#brahms hillshire x you

[and-knowing-is-half-the-battle]

Stay

Brahms Heelshire x fem!reader

Length: 1.6k

18+ only, mature content. Do not copy/repost

Warnings: dub con/non con, chasing, groping, overstimulation, biting, begging, kissing, restraining, squirting, cum eating, “loss” of virginity, p in v sex, creampie. Some possessiveness. No use of y/n.

Don’t ask how I got sucked into this fandom. I’m just a horny person, ya’ll. 

https://64.media.tumblr.com/faac1d2f5c6624be26e901cef4a2bf17/ca6020ad9b558133-36/s540x810/5fe05f4cc71b2536455f8857bdf4634701d25e31.gifv

Gif courtesy of: hereticstations (if it will load, dammit)

@hereticstations

"Get back here!"

His growl reverberated off the walls of the narrow passage as you scrambled to the small hatch that stood between you and safety. The seconds dragged as you pawed at the latch and dug your shoulder into the warped wood, knowing he was approaching.

You sobbed in relief when it finally popped open, the cool air swirling around your face and filling your lungs in contrast to the dusty, close air you crawled out of.

You were halfway out when his large hand closed around your ankle.

He pulled you back inside, your resistance no match for his seemingly superhuman strength. He tugged you securely under him, his form hovering over yours as you trembled. You watched the expressionless porcelain over his face, trying to read the shadows of his eyes. You saw him drink you in, his gaze registering your disheveled state. Your skirt had ridden up, a peek of underwear visible at your hip. The strap of your dress hung off your shoulder as your chest heaved from the scuffle. And your sweater had tangled up behind you, restricting your arms.

You were begging him before he opened his mouth.

"If I make you feel good, you will stay." He breathed, ignoring your pleas. He lowered himself onto you, using one hand to steady himself and leaving the other free to roam your body. You tried to wriggle away, but his heavy form pinned you just enough to prevent escape. His warm hand traveled gently up your bare thigh, slipping beneath your dress to slowly slide up your side and pause just below your breast. His eyes never left your face. You could feel them boring into you even as you turned away, your own screwed shut. As the tips of his fingers grazed over your bra, you became aware of his hardness against your leg, your struggling only resulting in stimulating him further. You clearly heard his breathing hitch, the sound amplified against the inside of his mask. 

The feeling of your soft skin against his at last made him drunk. He was torn between the need to savor every inch of you and the desire to tear into you. To take you apart the way you had done to him without a single touch. 

A moment of ferocity took hold of him as he turned you over effortlessly, tearing your clothes off you layer by layer. He found your soft cries of refusal strangely exhilarating. There was so much he had been denied over the years, and it was time for him to experience something fully. No more meager substitutions, no more partial glimpses between wooden slats, no more walls between him and what he wanted. 

You were but a doll in his grip as he manhandled you back over and rose up to his knees to get his first full look at you. He loomed, his broad chest expanding further with each heavy breath. You waited, breathless and frozen as he deliberately discarded his cardigan and shrugged his suspenders from his shoulders before bearing down on you again. Your brain jolted into action and you pushed against his chest, your efforts not slowing him in the slightest. 

His hands found your breasts first, a gentle grip as his thumbs brushed against your nipples, which peaked in response. He leaned forward, his gaze glued to your lips as you whimpered. 

“No, please, Brahms,” Your skin soon became sensitive to his touch and your hips jerked reflexively. He gripped your arms and pulled you up into his embrace, guiding your legs to straddle him. One of his large hands splayed against your back, effectively holding you in place as he continued to explore you. The nose of his mask trailed down the column of your neck as his other hand clutched your ass and he groaned deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest. He hesitated briefly before lifting his mask just enough to free his mouth. Between the dim lighting and his proximity, you only caught a glimpse of his lips before he dove in to lick and nip at your skin. You tried again to push away from him, your arms trapped between you, but his arms were iron as he bit into your shoulder and you cried out helplessly. 

His lips soon slotted over yours, his tongue invading your mouth. He tasted of mint with a hint of metallic blood, his tongue eagerly swirling over yours. He backed you into the wall before he grabbed your hips, guiding them to roll over him, your core catching against the crotch of his pants. You whined into his mouth despite yourself, feeling your wetness starting to gather. 

He felt foggy, his senses sharp but his mind falling further beneath the waves of you. Drowning and diving deeper without hesitation. He was instantly enamored with each sound, movement, taste. He found himself frustrated at the hindrance of his mask and without thought ripped it from his face, quickly returning to your pliant mouth. It was then that the smell of you came to his nose, and he breathed deeply, intoxicated. He looked down, both curious and electrified at the wet patch over his groin. You squirmed when he dipped his hand down to gather it so he could examine it closer. It stretched between his fingers, slippery to the touch, tangy to his nostrils … and it was in his mouth before he thought about what he was doing. 

His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he hummed appreciatively. When he dipped down again, his eyes not leaving your face, he pressed his fingers to your clit and a wave of heat rushed through him at the way your mouth dropped open with a moan. He moved his fingers instinctively, gauging your reaction and chasing your pretty noises. 

You weren’t sure of when you had given in, but your hands were tangled in his hair as you ground down on him. You had only taken a moment to adjust to his true face, much of it untouched by the scars. He pulled you from your thoughts with another passionate kiss, his other hand wrapped around your throat. A tightness was building deep in your stomach, your wailing becoming higher and more frenzied. You needed more, your hands scrambling down his back to push under the hem of his shirt. To feel his skin against you. The hand around your neck slid down, once again cradling your breast and swiping over your nipple in time with the fingers on your clit, now circling it with fervor and sending you over the edge with a breathless scream. 

You were gorgeous like this, clinging to him while he pulled you through your orgasm, gushing in his lap. Even when you melted against him, he couldn’t stop himself, his fingers playing you like he had a lifetime of practice at your keys. Your hips jerked against him and your sounds changed to whimpers, your legs pressing on either side of him, attempting to close. Your small hands found their way to the fly of his pants, tugging at the material impatiently. He reluctantly pulled his fingers from you, again cleaning them against his tongue before removing what was left of his clothing. You watched him with heavily lidded eyes, and he was the only man in the world. 

You felt painfully empty, your body screaming with need as he stripped, revealing his taut muscles, hairy torso, and his angrily leaking cock. You pushed against his shoulder and he obeyed, laying so you could climb atop him. You wrapped your hand around his shaft, a moan falling from his parted lips even before you guided him to your entrance. When you sunk slowly onto his girth, you groaned in unison at the tight fit. You leaned over him, trailing small kisses up his thick neck as you began to bounce on him, sounds practically exploding from his mouth. You took your time, letting you both adjust to the sensation of him entering you over and over again. He was a whining mess by the time you pulled back, circling your hips over him while his hands slid over your body, seemingly mesmerized. He caught one of your nipples in his mouth, both of you keening as your walls clenched down on him in response. When you sat upright and began bouncing again, the change in angle made you both breathless, and his hands flew to your hips in a bruising grip. He was coming undone: his eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging open, his chest heaving as he flung his head back, and you could watch it forever. 

He surprised you by planting his feet and fucking up into you, somehow hitting your g-spot with precision. You sobbed, starting to wilt, but his hand returned to your throat, holding you aloft as he wound the coil inside you with each stroke. It didn’t take long for you to fall apart on his cock, your pussy spasming around him as you screamed. He stared at you as you looked at him through tears, his grunts increasing in ferocity. His thrusts became sloppy and he choked on his moans as he spilled inside you, the warmth blooming as you started to come down from your high. He stilled and released his grip, and you flopped onto his chest as you both caught your breath. 

“You will stay now?” He broke the silence, sounding unsure as the haze cleared from your minds. 

“I will stay now,” You reassured, your fingers threading through his. He sighed in relief. 

“Yes. You are mine.” 

[slasherbtch]

☆ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬/𝐍𝐨

☆ 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐡𝐜

☆ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐫: 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭!

☆ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

✮ What an amazing joke. Brhams does not and never have gotten stuck in a wall. When he’s in a fit of rage, he actually breaks through walls/mirrors and punches doors with his bare hands!

✮ Let’s also take into account how old the house is. I'm a little surprised it hasn’t gotten blown over by the wind.

✮ While yes, technically, someone with his big ass build should be getting stuck—as would any normal person in such a cramped place but two thing’s for sure and one thing’s for certain, Brahms was not normal.

✮ He grew up living inside those walls because of his family. He had no other choice but to learn how to maneuver through them, to figure out where he could fit and could not fit as he grew to maturity. Not that he has actually matured mentally.

✮ When you factor in all of that, it’s just not possible for him to get stuck. He knows the ends and outs of the house—if one end gets blocked, he’s already running to the other.

✮ Now if we are talking hypothetically and that’s a big hypothetically, a mc nanny is most likely involved. If that’s the case, he will play victim. After all, you are there to take care of him.

✮ He may be taller than you, stronger than you and faster but like mentioned before—he hasn’t exactly reached that level of maturity. He still acts out when he doesn’t get his way or he’s being childish by throwing tantrums. He plays games often—finds it fun to confuse you or scare you. He will play the hurt kitten card if it gets your attention only on him, he has no shame—and he will play it well.

✮ Recently I read a headcanon from another writer that he liked to read the ‘Hero save the Princess’ books when he was younger and he often imagined he was the knight saving her. In reality mc is doing the saving; saving him from his loneliness, his lack of attention/affection and I guess, from being “stuck in the wall”.

✮ I put quotations because he’s not really stuck. He’s playing another game. Another one you're already tired of as you talk to him through the wall, reassuring him that everything’s going to be okay. It’s certainly okay but you’re gonna have to work for it to get him out of the wall before dinner time comes.

✮ He’ll talk to you in his child voice, urging you to come inside the wall and help him. He. Just. Can’t. Budge. As if your small frame compared to his was going to make him move. That’s like trying to move a mountain and mountains (yes they do; look it up) move when they want to, hence how when you get inside the wall through the closet—he’s not where you last spoke to him.

✮ You aren’t happy, you let him know that the game has to end. You threaten no goodnight kisses to show you were serious. He didn’t like that. Suddenly, you're wrapped in his beef arms, pressed to his chest as he stares at you silently. Where the hell did he come from?

✮ “Brahms sorry. He’ll be a good boy now.”

[cherryc1nnam0n]

More Brahms please?

Love you~Isabella

How about Brahms with a mommy kink? And a breeding kink? And lactating kink? And-

Okay calm down Kali... Thanks for the idea Isabella, have a treat~

Mommy's good boy | Brahms Heelshire x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Brahms is your good boy <3

Cw: Lots of porn, cum, praising, mommy kink, dom!reader, cock warning, sub!Brahms, whiney Brahms, spoiled Brahms, nursing, big dick, lots of cum, cum eating, belly bulges, mentions of pregnancy

"Mommy please!" Brahms said bellow a whisper as you sank down on his cock, slowly, too slow for his liking

"Be a good boy and stay still baby" you said, calmly sitting down on his never ending cock, it was so big it always bulged on your tummy

"But mommy-" you hushed him

"You're mommy's good boy right? Then stay still and mommy will give you what you want"

"Nngh" he whined, he didn't like waiting, but he had been a brat today and he deserved a little punishment

Y/n rested her hand on her belly, caressing Brahms' dick inside her and also, the baby that is growing inside her thanks to him

"Soon my baby bump will be bigger, are you excited for it Brahmsy?"

He nodded "Yes mommy, it makes me so horny to think I got you pregnant"

"Because you're a good boy baby" you started rocking your hips on him, his dick hitting your g spot so good it made your eyes roll back

Soon you started to bounce on him, skin slapping skin and wet noises filling the room

"Mommy, more please"

He grabbed your hips and held you up, snapping his own hips brutally into you, making you moan and whine

"Good boy Brahms!"

~•~

Some months before...

"Fuck, fuck, mommy, gonna cum!" He moaned, thrusting into you at an animalistic pace, the bulge on your belly disappearing and coming back as he took you from behind

"Brahms! So close don't stop baby!"

Soon enough he came inside you with no warning, he always did that, since you lived here alone with him and couldn't really leave the house to get birth control, he was fucking you raw and breeding you every night, you were surprised you weren't pregnant... Yet...

Your pussy was pumped with cum, an incredible orgasm crashed into you as his dick twitched inside you

"Mommy's cunt is so good"

"Look at the mess you made baby, you gotta clean it up"

Now on your back with your legs open wide, he was sucking his cum out of you, licking you clean while he rutted on the bed from how nasty and good it was

"Good boy Brahms, cleaning up your mess..."

~•~

You were sitting on the couch, a novel on your right hand as your left one brushed Brahms' hair as he sucked on your nipple

"No teeth baby"

"Yes mommy" he said going back to nursing while his other hand caressed your other tit

"Good boy Brahms"

He's your good boy~

[blossomgoff]

How did Greta not fold when Brahms was begging like this??? 😩

[ongit0]

Brahms x Nanny (y/n) (gender neutral)

“Don’t you worry, ma’am. I’ll take care of Brahms.“ You said as the white haired lady gave a sad smile. She gave a tight hug and whispered. “I’m sorry. It’s just, the last nanny left hysterically crying and well,” She rubbed the side of your arms before holding your hands. “We wish for you and Brahms to get along.” She assured you before passing the porcelain doll into your hands from her husband’s. “Rest assured that Brahms will be taken care of.” You said, hugging the doll, caressing its hollow but strong head. She nodded before heading out the large doors her husband held open.

You followed them out the massive house and stood above the large steps. You waved them off after they packed their suitcases in the back of the car. They gave a sheepish wave before the car moved out the massive gates. You sighed, looking down at Brahms. In a loud clear voice you said, “Don't worry Brahms. You’re with me now.” You kissed the top of the doll’s head.

You felt odd but if the poor elderly couple’s traumatic loss of a child is by replacing it with a doll. Why not? You were already attached to the doll as you were always attached to toys, especially stuffed animals.

Passing down the halls with your shoes clicking and thumping on each step with the doll in your arms, you hummed. You remained unaware of the heavy breathing in the walls as you mistaken it for the wind outside. You didn’t want to play the gramophone Ms. Heelshire instructed you to but had to get the ear worm out of your head. “Are you hungry, Brahms?” You said as after checking the time on your phone. You felt a bit foolish for checking the time on your phone when there were many grandfather clocks.

The prying eyes behind the walls stared at you, watching you speak to the doll, giving all your attention to it. You weren’t like the other nannies; younger, prettier, actually listened when no one was looking. You were much sweeter than the last nanny who covered his face. He was scared. She would leave him alone.

You carried him as you hummed a few songs, holding him nice and tight as if the doll was real.

The man behind the doll mumbled a small whine, pressing his shaky fingers against the wall. How much the doll was receiving affection so soon was a shock. He wanted more.

You kissed the doll's head again, softly pressing your cheek against the doll’s head.

You set the doll down as you paced around the kitchen. There was a new delivery boy you were told about but he was apparently running late. You shrugged, looking for whatever there was to make. You were considering a pb&j sandwich but you had lived off them for so long you grew tired. Maybe some pasta?

It didn’t take as long as you thought it would to make it. You grabbed a plate before recalling the rule of feeding the doll. You hummed, not wanting to get two plates out. You set the single plate down, serving yourself. You grabbed a fork and a glass to pour yourself juice. You sighed, grabbing the doll to wipe its hands with a napkin. “I have to keep you nice and neat.” I muttered as I set the doll on my lap with a napkin on its own. It was ridiculously large, clearly meant for a grown man to use but you didn’t mind. You grabbed the fork, twirling the bit of spaghetti in it. You brought the small bit close to the doll’s pale but rosy painted lips, careful not to stain it.

Up close you never noticed the small shattered fragment bits on its face, as if he had recently been placed together. Did they break him? Did the previous nanny hurt it? “You poor thing.” You set the fork down, hugging the doll.

The man tilted his head to the side. The nanny before him didn’t feed him, starving him for the past weeks she stayed. Yet here you were, the doll in your lap “feeding” him and talking to him. His small hazel eyes stared at you longingly. He approved of you the moment you walked in. You were immediately searching for his parents, asking who you were babysitting. Was he already on his mind even before you met his doll self. He was practically blushing the moment you greeted yourself to the doll, seeing you not laugh at it but instead greeting it with confidence. He almost wanted to cover his face from how careful you were when you dressed his doll. Your hands looked so soft, almost tickling his skin. The only person he only got touched was his previous nanny but stabbing shouldn’t be considered a gentle gesture.

He loved how you cleaned and dressed him to bed. His mother never instructed you to read or speak to him until he “fell asleep” but you did. For a brief moment he felt so safe, even if he was the one in the bed. He felt so loved, secure, safe. A small burning ache in his chest spread hearing you read out a bedtime story you had memorized. He pressed his glass on the wall, his eyes shut. He swore he could have fallen asleep when your voice stopped by a yawn.

“Good night. Brahms.” You said, leaving the dark room.

He went down the hidden walkways to the kitchen where you put the remaining left overs in an empty tupperware, putting the unfinished juice in the fridge as well. Maybe one day he could get the courage to eat beside you, if his parents approve of it of course.

His eyes were fixated on your blurred body, showering as he could only watch from the outside elf the almost transparent curtains. How you dressed in those soft pajama pants and a tank top, cuddling a pillow as you slowly fell asleep. He watched how your back raised and fell in each slow breath you took.

Just the first night and he wanted to hold your small frame against him. You were so much smaller than him, easy to hold in his sleep. All he had was the doll he wished was you. He sighed, his fingers threatened to break the wall before him that separated you from being his. You must smell nice, maybe even feel soft after your shower.

He watched you as long as he could before his stomach growled. He had completely forgotten about eating when you did. Guess he was jealous of his own doll.

You were so unaware of the man in your walls, sleeping soundly in your bed. The blanket had fallen off your shoulders, exposing your neck and shoulders. Brahms walked away from the room before he couldn’t hold himself together.

He ate the leftovers alone in the dark. He was so used to the darkness around him but this time was different. It felt colder, lonelier. Maybe because how attached he was to you even without exchanging any words. He felt so close to you the instant you walked in the mansion. Eating without you felt sickening. It wasn’t right. Being away from you felt so depressing.

He put the fork down and put the leftovers in the fridge again. He had lost his appetite knowing you were alone in your bed, hugging the pillow. It should be him, maybe even the other way around. It would feel better if he was holding you. You would like that, right? You must be feeling alone in such a big house. Maybe his company would soothe you.

He stood over your bed, staring down at you. He found it adorable how many pillows you needed. One for your head, another to hold, one between your knees and feet. You were like a koala holding onto the pillows. He reached to your ear, brushing his fingertips against the shell of your ear, making you twitch. He grabbed a small lock of your hair. He wanted to bring himself lower to inspect your hair but you might wake up to his breathing. He grabbed the scissors in pocket, snipping a few inches off your head. He lifted the strands to his face. Curious. Brahms lifted his mask over his head.

He stared at your hair, how it shined at each twist and curl. It felt so soft. It was slightly wet. The memory of you in that shower made his heart face, pumping blood and color to his face. He sniffed the strands of hair before bringing it to his lips. He sucked on the strands, wanting the water out of it and slipping onto his tongue. He pulled the stands out his mouth, slipping his mask down his face and leaving your room. It felt amazing, having a slight taste of you in his mouth. He wanted to smile and laugh like a child. He had a hand to his face, stopping himself from laughing but also embarrassed to have reached out to you so soon. If he had to be quite honest to himself, he really wishes for you to stay long enough until his parents approve of his decision to reveal himself.

You were made for each other - you felt alone and loved him. How could you not love him? He watched how you treated his doll. He loved you, everything about you.

He just hoped you didn’t run away like the other nanny. She was pretty, he had to admit. But she was mean. She hurt him, left him. Then she let someone else hold him and hurt him. You weren’t like her. He was smitten.

He sat on his bed, laying back and held the much smaller cotton stuffed doll in his arms. His body ran hot, the mask was suffocating. He really wanted to know how your skin felt against his. You must’ve felt nice.

He whined and gave small cries into the doll. It’s not fair. He really liked you but didn’t want to scare you. He really wanted to feel your kiss on his cheek, ruffle the top of his head, hum to him, holding his hand during lessons.

The man had unknowingly tired himself out crying, relaxing to sleep with those fake scenarios. Maybe one day they could happen. He’d be the happiest man alive to have you smile at him, not afraid of him.

For now, seeing you behind the walls until his parents give him permission will be enough.

art credit to Ijustwannahavefun on YouTube

[ahmnom]

Brahms heelshire At your service 😉 find the uncensored version here

[bunnysficsnstuff]

{Stay With Me} Brahms Heelshire x Y/N

Content: Break in, injury, blood, but mostly fluff :D

Word Count: 1431

AN: This is my first time writin smthn like this but if ppl like it ill def write more! If you have any suggestions for fics, more parts, or honestly just how to make this stuff more enjoyable just lmk!! I've never rlly used tumblr so I'm super open to all suggestions! Thanks and enjoy!!

It wasn’t long after y/n started nannying for the Heelshires that she suspected the old manor had to be haunted. She cared for the porcelain doll as if it were her own child since the moment she started the job. She didn’t find the Heelshires to be strange or obsessed, she found their care for the boy endearing and after their passing, she made it her duty to carry on the love they held for their son, regardless if he was just a porcelain doll to others, Brahms was her best friend every day from the very start of this job. 

There wasn’t much time after the Heelshires passed before y/n discovered the phantom in her walls. At first she thought the tip tapping around the empty home to be rats or maybe a possum that got trapped in the old structure of the home. She didn’t mind the idea of small guests so she started leaving small bowls of water and treats on the kitchen floor. Y/n continued the strict structure that the Heelshires left behind for her, carrying on the memory of the family that blossomed in these halls. That was, until the break in.

It was the middle of the night when something woke y/n from her deep sleep. She assumed it to be her ghostly friend or her untraditional pets. She checked her phone for the time, it was 2:34 am, she needed to get back to sleep soon so she rolled back over in bed. There was a loud banging coming from the foyer, nothing she had ever heard come from the house before. Y/n swiftly grabbed her cell phone and quickly threw on her robe and slippers before running out of her to find the source of the commotion. Y/n rushed down the hall and checked in Brahms room first, making sure he was still secured in his bed. She shut his door after deciding everything was okay in his room and headed down stairs. She thought, maybe she had just forgotten to close a window and the wind in the night knocked something over in the house. 

When y/n came to the bottom of the stairs she peered around to see what made the noise. When she glanced towards the front door she noticed the front door was wide open. Maybe it got blown open? Y/N thought to herself as she approached the door. As she came closer and closer to the disturbed entryway she noticed the splintering of the doorframe, this wasn’t the wind she realized, too late though. Before she could think to dial 999, she saw a crazed man jump at her from the shadows of the house. He grabbed her roughly and threw her to the ground, hitting her head as she landed hard on the old oak floors. She tried to sit upright and retrieve her phone but became increasingly dizzy. Before she fully faded from consciousness she saw another person storm into the room. This is it, they’ll kill me, have to get up y/n’s mind reeled before she collapsed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/n slowly gained consciousness again in the comfort of her bedroom. She initially thought the encounter must have been a wine induced nightmare but the aching spot on the back of her head shot fear down her spine. She tried to sit up but a large hand softly laid over her stomach, urging her to lay back down. The fear in y/n’s chest grew thick and hot, the man who attacked me she thought. She slowly turned her head to find the person attached to the large hand keeping her in bed. Instead of finding the deranged man who hurt her last night, she saw a familiar porcelain face attached to the body of a big man. “Brahms?” Y/n said confused, Brahms was her friend but he was just a doll at the end of the day, how could this be Brahms? The man gave y/n a small nod as he handed her a glass of water and two small pills “ibuprofen” he said softly “for your head”. Y/n took the two small pills out of the mans hand and cautiously put them in her mouth before taking the glass of water and taking a small sip to wash down the pills. “Brahms,” y/n started “what happened to me?” she asked carefully. She feared this may be the man who attacked her playing a sick joke. “Bad man hurt you.” Brahms started “I had to protect you” he said lovingly.

By the time y/n was well enough to move around on her own again, Brahms had cleaned up the mess he left in the foyer from killing the intruder and had taken his doll replica into the walls for safe keeping. It took time for y/n to trust Brahms was really himself, especially after such a traumatic event. “Did you carry me all the way upstairs?” y/n asked once she started to feel more comfortable. Brahms nodded “n’ I made sure to keep the cut clean” he said softly gesturing to y/n’s head. She let her hand softly find the sore spot on her head and realized it had been carefully bandaged. She may have been a bit fearful but something about his gentle nature toward her made y/n feel safe around Brahms. 

Brahms helped y/n down the stairs, she saw the front door was ajar and started to walk in its direction. She could feel the small pockets of sun seeping through the offset door and splintered frame. She quickly noticed a chair had been moved to face the door and a kitchen knife was posted on a side table next to it. “Have you been watching the door the whole time I was out?” y/n asked, concerned. Brahms nodded “Had to keep you safe” he said quickly as he rerouted them towards the kitchen. Brahms finally set y/n down in the kitchen in her chair at the dining table. Brahms has never been the best cook but, he’s watched y/n cook enough of his meals to know how to make the simple stuff. He put together two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, setting one down for y/n and setting the other infront of himself. “Thank you Brahms, I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long” y/n replied. Brahms didn’t like hearing y/n say those words, he just lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

Brahms hadn’t touched his food by the time y/n was done eating. “Brahms,” y/n started “why don’t you take off the mask and eat your lunch.” Brahms didn’t react, y/n shifted in her chair to more directly face him. She gently and slowly reached her hand out towards Brahms, fingertips grazing the edge of the mask as well as his coarse skin. Brahms quickly shifted and grabbed y/n’s hand roughly. Y/n was shocked, she had only been met with the softest of care from him so far, she didn’t think he would react this way. Brahms slowly let go of y/n’s hand “s-sorry” he stuttered out. Y/n swiftly got up and collected her plate, Brahms shot up quickly, he saw the startle in y/n’s eyes again. He corrected his pacing and slowly moved towards y/n. He gently took the plate from her hand placing it back on the table coming closer to her, placing his hand lightly on her upper arm. “Don’t leave” Brahms whispered “please” He traced his fingers down her arm all the way to her hand, guiding it back up to the edge of his mask. Y/n breathed shakily as she curled her fingertips under the mask's edge, lifting it up and over his dark curly hair to reveal his face, half scarred on the left side, pale and rough on the right. Y/n placed the mask down gently on the dining table with one hand and gently cupped Brahms face with the other, “I would never leave you, Brahms” y/n said with a soft and loving smile, “I chose to stay with you a long time ago dear, nothing could change that” she said softly, guiding Brahms closer to her. They stood still, embracing each other in the kitchen for what felt like a lifetime, Brahms could finally hold his girl, right here, forever.

[mx-pastelwriting]

𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙝𝙢𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙚

⭑ 𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙞𝙜𝙣 𝙐𝙥 ⭑

𝙍𝙚𝙙*=𝙎𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩/𝙇𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣/𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩!

𝙊𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚~=𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙡𝙚^= 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨/𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨

Request~ GN! Reader

Warnings: Cute Brahms, Fluff, Established Relationship

Request^ GN! Reader

Warnings: Hurt Comfort, Blood, Stabbed, Brahms Hurts Himself, Fluff at the End, Established Relationship

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

Request~ GN! Reader

Warnings: GN!Reader, Fluff, Being Tired, Studying, Established Relationship

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their work being copied, translated, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

[slasherbtch]

✮ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬/𝐍𝐨

✮ 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

✮ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐦𝐬. 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 (𝐢𝐬𝐡). 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐧. 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧.

✮ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐫: 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐜 (𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝) … 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫).

Brahms stares widely at your hips in a trance-like state as they fervently grind against his thigh. One of your hands rests on his chest, while the other covers his, that flick and tug one of your hardened nipples through the tight, fitted tee.

He’s still groggy from just waking up, yet he has long gotten over his shock at you taking initiative. His mind, heavy with sleep, can’t form a single coherent thought, other than letting you use him for your own pleasure.

How could he not? You look so pretty, face scrunched up in ecstasy, lips slightly parted, allowing soft pants to escape. Your moans fill the air, sounds equivalent to Brahms favorite music. If he knew how, he would replace it with you in a heartbeat.

Brahms immediately snaps to attention, hyperfocusing on your face and quivering legs, switching between the two as your jaw drops, releasing a drawn out curse. You’ve finally tumbled over the edge, soiling your shorts.

Watching you come undone was so sexy, the remaining sleep that paralyzed him lifted. In the next minutes that follow, he crashes his lips with yours eagerly and slips a hand in your shorts, groaning at the wetness that gathered.

You’re slightly winded as the positions switched and you find yourself on your back with Brahms hovering over you. He pulls inches away from your lips, just enough to hiss, “My turn,” as he impatiently tugs your shorts down.

Micheal’s surprisingly exhausted, his body movement limited thanks to a chase earlier tonight. But he was more annoyed than anything because those facts were what stopped him from fucking you right now.

Instead, he has to effortlessly bounce you on his thigh as you wiggle your hips with a flustered expression.

Your thighs clamped around his own weakly—Micheal was stronger. He will always be stronger. You were just so small and helpless compared to him. He could break you…

Watching your current expression, he wants nothing more than to have the chance to do just that—to have you withering beneath him as he looms over you, thrusting his big cock into you with no mercy. Your face would be scrunched up in both pleasure and pain. The perfect combo looks beautiful on you.

He tilts his head, silently taunting as your whimpers turn to moans. Your thighs lose their grip, your hips now eagerly grinding down with every lift of his leg. The frictions drive you mad, evident in the way your head is thrown back.

Were you going to come so soon? Micheal was amused. Who knew you riding his thigh for the first time got you so hot that you were coming in less than 20 minutes after him arriving home. It’s a real shame he doesn’t stop even after you do.

[crypticdesire]

TWISTED WONDERLAND

- ERIC SHOENHEIT - { filled up with love for you } - nsft top amab reader x sub eric shoenheit

{ behind the scenes } - nsft top amab reader x sub transmasc eric shoenheit

- MOZUS TREIN - { in sickness and in health } - nsft dom amab reader x sub mozus trein

- ROOK HUNT - { you, me, and the sea were meant to be } - nsft dom amab reader x yandere!mermaid rook

{ to go for keeps } - nsft dom gn reader x sub rook hunt

{ rook + odontophilia thoughts }

- VIL SHOENHEIT - { embracing the mess } - nsft dom top amab reader x sub vil shoenheit

SLASHERS

- BRAHMS HILLSHIRE - { general nsft hcs }

- BUBBA SAWYER - { general nsft hcs }

- JASON VOORHEES - { general nsft hcs }

- MICHAEL MYERS - { general nsft hcs }

- STU MACHER - { general nsft hcs }

- VINCENT SINCLAIR - { general nsft hcs }

MISCELLANEOUS YANDERE WORKS

THE KNIGHT { CAL } - I, II, III

THE ARTIST { VESPER } - I, II, III

GENERAL DRABBLES

nsft dom amab reader x sub priest

[dejafanwriting]

Don't leave me-Brahms Heelshire X(F)reader

THIS IS A WIP of a REQUEST from a friend. They asked me to post it because I wouldn’t unless I liked it but I don’t 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s been way too long in their opinion (I’m being held at g*n point to finish editing this) It has not been fully proofread and contains MANY errors but they wanted me to post it so bad, so now they get trash :P. One day I’ll finish it 👋

TW:Gore/violence/blood/mentions of child loss.

Part 2

——————————

“Don’t leave me!”

His scream echoes in your ears as you run towards the estate gates. Your feet, bare, dig through the hard gravel, adding small cuts to the flesh. Your lungs burn and scream for oxygen, but you try to ignore it and push through it. The stinging cold English air seeps through the thin long sleeve shirt and long skirt you're wearing, making it even harder to breathe. But you don't stop. Only minutes ago, an earth-shattering secret was revealed to you.

Brahms is alive.

He has been alive for the past 20 years or so. His death was faked. He’s been living in the manor walls this whole time. The same one you had been living in. All this time he had been there when you thought you were alone. He’s been watching you. You had been taking care of a life-size porcelain doll that was the embodiment of the so thought dead 8-year-old son of the Heelshires. But they lied. He didn’t die in that fire years ago. They hid the truth and now you are paying the price. You followed the schedule and cared for the doll just like you had been hired to do so for the past weeks. You pitied the old couple and did your best to comply with their wishes. You treated the doll like a real boy as best as you could, to the point where you even grew a bit attached to it. But now, all that’s left are its shattered remains.

It had been a normal day. You followed the schedule and cared for the doll. It all went smoothly, boring even. You had grown accustomed to life in the huge manor. It became easy. By dinner time, meal preparations were interrupted by a noise in the billiards room, whom you had thought was just Malcolm, who had forgotten to deliver something or just paying you a random visit

“There you are”

Cole's voice made your blood rush to your feet when you entered the room. You stared at him as he casually played pool and hit the white pool ball with the cue stick, making the sound of resin clashing fill the room as it collided with the other pool balls.

“It was a pain in the ass to find you,” He said, then turned to look into your eyes while pointing at you with the cue “But I got ya' now”

Your grip on the doll tightened and you watched him stand up to his full height. Fear slowly seeped into your bones as you took in the gravity of the situation. You had been avoiding him for months and even traveled to another country just to get away from him. He was a monster. He’d hurt you. You had even called the police on him and got a restraining order against him. But there he was, standing a few feet from you and threatening to take you back.

“Go get your stuff. I got us last-minute tickets and we need to board in about an hour.”

He ordered while standing inches from your face. You stared down at the floor as your body was screaming for you to move and do as he had said in order to prevent being hurt. But something in you had changed. Five months ago, you would’ve obeyed out of fear. You would’ve done anything to avoid a slap or a punch. But that fear started to wither. Being away from him and being alone for so long made you feel safer. Made you feel confident. Stronger.

“No…” you muttered softly

“What?” He said with slight disbelief and a puzzled face. It wasn’t the response he expected. Thinking 'had heard you wrong?' “What did you say?”

You lifted Your head to meet his angry gaze. It was almost impossible to hold eye contact with him. To look the devil in the eye. But you pushed on.

“I said I’m not going anywhere with you” you spoke more confidently and watched surprise cover his features. Something sparked inside you and all the fear left your body.

But it was a mistake. It blinded you from reality. You had no chance against him. You weren’t going to get away with it. There was no way you could’ve stopped him as he suddenly lunged at you and reached for your neck. As his hands circled your throat and tightened, instantly blocking your airway. And In an attempt to push his arms away, you let go of the doll in your hold. Your eyes widened at the sound of shattering porcelain.

“Br-a-hms..” You choked out in a plea. The doll you had been caring for as If it were your own child, was shattered into million pieces beneath your feet, digging into the soles of your shoes. You could hear the porcelain crunching beneath Cole’s boots as you struggled against each other. Your nails dug into his clothed forearms and you scratched with all the strength you could muster, slightly ripping the fabric and piercing his skin. Warm liquid gathered under your fingers as you tried to loosen his hold on you. But he was stronger. It was useless. Tears filled your eyes from both the lack of oxygen and clear realization. Cole was going to kill you. He was crushing your windpipe and you weren’t able to breathe. Numbness began to overtake you and all you could hear was your blood pulsing loudly in your ears. You began losing consciousness.

But before your eyes could fully close, you felt your body being pushed away followed by a sharp pain on your side from coming into contact with the hard floor. You began to gasp at the rush of cold air rushing to your lungs. It stung painfully and felt like you had swallowed fire. Wheezing, you rubbed at the sore spot on your neck, trying to alleviate the pain from Cole's crushing hold. You turned at the distorted sound of grunting and objects being broken as the ringing in your ears slowly began to lift. When your vision fully cleared, what you saw would only stop your breathing once again.

There, a few feet from you stood a tall man you had never seen before. He wore dirty-looking clothing and no shoes. What surprised you the most was the white doll-like mask he wore. It also looked dirty and cracked. You could barely make out dark bloodshot eyes that were slightly covered by dark disheveled curls. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, as he stared down at Cole’s struggling body. Cole looked distorted but was still attempting to get up.

You glanced behind the two men, at a large hole in the wall where a tall mirror once stood against the wall. Its glass shards were scattered all over the floor and tables. The inside of the wall was unexpectedly hollow and had what appeared to be a small hallway. A raspy cough unexpectedly ripped through your throat, making the masked man look in your direction, giving you a better look at the porcelain covering on his face. It was weirdly similar to that of the doll's face. You could also see lifted flesh along one side of his neck, all the way up and beneath his mask. You recognized it as burn scarrings. You shifted your gaze along his mask and your eyes locked with his— It only took you a fraction of a second to connect the dots.

The weird rules. The strange sounds around the house. The way the doll seemed to be moving on its own and your stuff disappearing. The mysterious fire that killed the Heelshires son. The man's mask having an uncanny resemblance to the doll.

His mask looked like Brahms because he was Brahms. He was alive and had been standing a few feet from you and staring at you.

Cole had recovered and lunged for his torso, pushing him to the ground and pinning him with his legs. A pained grunt left Brahms and you could see Cole digging something into his abdomen. Cole then lifted a bloodied fist, but before he could land a punch at Brahms's face, he was harshly shoved to the floor. Brahms was faster than him and took a hold of his hair, slamming Cole’s face to the floor and regaining the upper hand.

Cole was then face down on the floor with Brahms's body on his back and was being pinned down. His face was being lifted with great force then violently slammed down onto the floor with strength you had never witnessed. You swore the wood floors began to splinter at the force. His face was getting bloodier and more beaten. With each hit of his head to the ground, a memory of Cole's unforgiving actions flashed through your head:

The controlling Behavior

Smack

The verbal abuse

Smack

The punches and kicks

Smack

The loss of your child

SMACK

You closed your eyes as louder cracks reached your ears. It was most likely Coles skull cracking, and breaking with it, was the last chain he had over you. It was being shattered into pieces. Like he had done to your self-esteem. To your dreams. To you.

You opened your eyes when the banging stopped and the view almost made you gag. Cole's face was unrecognizable. His eyes were completely sealed shut by his swollen flesh, his nose disfigured, teeth broken and missing. Blood was everywhere. On his face. On his clothes. On the floor. On Brahms.

You stared at his blood-covered hands as he released Cole’s head and let it drop one last time. Trying to avoid the view, your eyes shifted to Brahms’s abdomen and caught a glimpse of a large bloodied stain on his dirtied white shirt. A piece of something dark was lodged into his flesh. Cole must’ve stabbed him with a piece of wood, you thought. Your thinking was interrupted when Brahms suddenly turned to you and made you jump at the sudden focus of attention. Chills ran up your spine at the sound of your name being called in that childlike voice you had heard before. The same one that had you thinking you had gone mad for hearing a child’s voice in the halls and through the phone. You went as far as to believe that the ghost of Brahms was roaming around the manor and calling out for you. But there he was. Alive.

"Are you okay?"

His concerned voice, which was mixed between high and low pitches, broken by his heavy panting, brought you back to reality. Cole was dead. Brahms killed him. He took him down within a few minutes and was obviously way stronger than him. Stronger than you.

Brahms’s didn’t move from his position on top of Cole's, now dead body, as his eyes scanned your exposed neck. You could see a pool of emotions swirl within his eyes when he looked at your marked neck before he turned his gaze away from you. And you took it as a chance to move and slowly stood up. His head quickly shot up at the sound of your movements and you froze before you could fully straighten up. Panic reflected on his eyes and he quickly scattered to stand up as well—but before he could, you ran.

Fear engulfed you once more and you sprinted to the closest exit and into the hallway. But before you could enter the foyer, two strong arms wrapped around your torso, stopping you and pulling you back. Your back was slammed against Brahms’s chest as he held you tight. Brahms let out a low grunt from the impact to his wound. But you kicked forward and clawed at his forearms for release.

"Let me go!!" You cried out. Your voice was hoarse and broken from the earlier abuse to your neck, making screaming painful. It seemed to have caught Brahms’s attention because his grip on you slightly loosened. You wasted no time and used the distraction as an opportunity to slam the back of your head to his face and pushed his arms away from your body. He stumbled backward but you didn’t bother to look behind you at his grunting form and continued to run towards the front door. Once you finally reached it. Locked.

"Nononono!" You cried in a panic as you pulled on the door handle. But it didn’t budge. It had been locked and the key that was usually inserted in the keyhole was no were to be found. You heard footsteps behind you and quickly turned. Brahms halted a few feet from you. His chest rising and falling and dark eyes staring at your distressed form.

You didn’t waste a second and darted towards the stairwell to your right. Going up two steps at a time. You had to get away from him. You didn’t know what he would do to you.

But you had seen what he was capable of.

He had just turned Cole's face into a pulp without much of a fight. He was much stronger than the man you had struggled against for months. You were in greater danger. Your body filled with a mixture of adrenaline and fear that fueled your movements.

As you continued running up the staircase, the lack of steps behind you didn’t go unnoticed. Still, you continued towards the first opened room you spotted once you reached the second level. When you entered, your eyes first landed on the moved panels off the wall. A familiar-looking hallway could be seen inside, just like the one behind the mirror from downstairs. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was chasing you from within the walls. That's how he was able to reach you so fast. The sound of movements inside the walls and rapidly approaching shadows shook you out of shock and your body rushed to push the closest dresser towards the opening. The heavy wood tilted to the ground and landed with a loud thud in front of the opening, successfully blocking him off.

You shot towards the hallway once more, set towards the kitchen, in order to exit through the back door. But before you could reach the stairs, you heard heavy steps in that direction. Brahms was fast. He was able to be on the other side of the house in a matter of seconds, even while wounded. When you heard his steps near, you ran towards a second room. You had no plan on what to do and were simply choosing flight instead of fighting. It was obvious you couldn’t put up much of a fight. His footsteps sounded right behind you but you didn’t turn until you entered the room. You quickly went to shut the door, but a hand reached between the crevice and Brahms pushed the door open. You tried to slam the door back and pushed your whole body weight against the door, but it wasn’t helping you much.

You slipped back slightly and it allowed Brahms to push his head between the opening. You quickly looked around the room for something that could help. An old telephone on the table right next to you caught your eye. You quickly reached to grab for it, and with all your strength, you slammed it against his head, making Brahms slightly stumble backward and his strength faltered. You quickly shut the door and locked it. You then moved the table in order to block the door. You took a step back, panting, looking at the door.

"Ah!"

You yelped when the door handle started to violently shake. Brahms began to pull and pound on the door. You quickly turned and ran towards the window. You gripped the edge and with all your strength tried to lift it. Bit it didn’t even move one bit. Mr. Heelshire's words rang through your head while you continue to struggle to push the window open.

"Regrettably, the last tradesman we had, managed to paint the windows shut"

"FUCK!" you cursed out in defeat. You stepped away from the window, your hands gripping your hair in frustration, and tears threaten to form in your eyes. The door handle continued to shake and the banging only intensified. You searched around the room one last time, looking for another way out. Then, a small light caught your eye. It came from between a panel in the walls that had been slightly moved. You bolted towards it and pushed it aside. You kicked off your shoes to soften the sounds of your steps before unhesitatingly ducking inside the walls. You quietly but quickly slipped into the small hallway. The banging noise became faint as you slid deeper inside the walls Brahms had used to move about the house. Both the thought and the cold from the wooden floor sent shivers up your spine.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just wanted to put as much distance between you and Brahms as you could. You were afraid. Cobwebs wrapped around you and the smell of dust reached your nostrils. Thin rays of light seeped between tiny cracks in the wall. Once you turned for the third time, you came across a door that led to a small staircase that wrapped upwards. You quickly moved along the walls and up the staircase. You only slowed down when you stumbled upon a dimly lit room.

Your eyes danced around as took it all in. The room held everything someone needed to live. A small fridge, a microwave, and canned food on small shelves that also had plates and cutlery. A small sink with a mirror hung on the wall by bookcases. Many objects hung and were scattered around the place. You had been standing in the room Brahms had been living in for the past 20 years. You scanned the small place and your eyes caught a figure on a small bed by the corner.

"Is that... my dress?"

You whispered in disbelief. There on the bed, covered in a dress you had deemed lost, was a life-size doll made out of pillows. It was also wearing your locket and bracelet you struggled to find for days. The figure was meant to resemble you. Your hands shot up to cover your mouth in shock as disturbing thoughts ran through your head. You looked away and around more and found a stack of letters on a small table by the bed. You carefully reached for the top letter which was stamped by the Heelshires. Your eyes skimmed through the letter and your heart sank to my stomach.

The Heelshires had known all along that their son was alive. They lied to you. Not only that, but they were "giving" you to him to love and keep. And they would not be coming back. Bile rose to your throat. It was all too much to take in. your pulse quickened even more and you felt like fainting, but you couldn’t stop now. You took a step back and tried to calm down your body.

"What the hell is going on!" you snarled between your teeth, trying to keep your voice low. Everything was just taking a turn for worse. The Heelshires were most possibly dead and left you to deal with their adult son whom everyone thought had died in the fire. Not to mention he had just killed your abusive ex. And you didn’t know if he had been the only one he hurt. The thought made your skin crawl.

You had to keep moving because you could hear movements approaching the small room. You stuffed the letter in your skirt pockets and continued on up a small platform with stairs. There was a hole in the walls and a ladder that led down was against the opposite wall. You ducked inside and quickly began to descend. When you reached the bottom, you jumped through another cavity and continued moving inside the walls. More light seeped through the cracks. You stopped to look between the wood panels, trying to figure out your location. You scanned the room and figured you were on the bottom floor by a lounge room. The thought of Brahms spying on you through the gaps in the wood filed you with both uneasiness and anger.

Brahms's figure suddenly passed by your place in the wall inside the room as he searched for you and you yelped backward at the sudden appearance. Your back bumped the wall behind you, the noise alerted him of your position. He called out for you once more in the child's voice. But you didn’t respond. Instead, you continued to scuttle through the tight walls. As you entered a small room filled with pipes, you were startled by the loud sound of wood crashing and breaking. Brahms had run through the wall and inside the small room. you ducked under a big pipe and turned to see him pushing off wood boards from his body. You didn’t wait long and continued on through the tangle of pipes and away from him. You caught a glimpse of a small door with a keyhole letting moonlight seep through. You wasted no time and reached for it and pushed and pulled on the door in desperation, but it didn’t budge. You froze as Brahms called for you in that clear high-pitched child voice he imitated. The memories of the voice through the phone receiver and in the halls haunted your mind. His begging for you to "come out and play" when you locked yourself in your room upon first realizing the doll had been moving around. And the pb&j sandwich you thought a ghost prepared for you as some sort of a peace offering. you turned to look back at him as he called your name again.

"Come back" His voice cracked and lost that child pitch. You could only stare in fear at him crouching and peeking through the pipes that blocked him from reaching you. You didn’t know what he would do to me if he caught you but you weren’t about to wait and find out.

"I'll be good, I will" He begged between breaths. His voice was now that of a grown man. Deeper and more clear. He moved closer. "I promise"

"No!" You yelled back trembling. "Get away from me!"

He stopped his movements and seemed taken back by your volume. You turned to continue pushing the door and struggled with the doorknob.

"Get back here" He growled. His voice dropped lower and got closer to you as he slid under the pipe.

"No!" You screamed. Tears began to prickle your eyes in panic. You slammed your shoulder on the door to no avail. You then shifted your body and continuously kicked at the door as he continued to crawl closer to your struggling figure. His approaching sounds only fueled your kicks. With one last harsh kick, the door finally slipped open and you hurried to push it fully open.

"YOU GET BACK HERE!!"

Brahms screamed as you scurried out and landed on your arms and knees onto the foliage-covered ground. You took a last glimpse behind you at his rapidly approaching figure before you propelled yourself upwards and began to full-on sprint away from him. Twigs snapped beneath your bare feet as you scuttled through branches and bushes. When you cleared the brambles, your heart sunk at the sound of Brahms crying out.

"Don't leave me!!" His voice was loud but trembling. You swear you could almost hear the pain in his plea.

But you won't look back. You’re getting out of here. You can't let him catch you. He's going to hurt you just like he hurt Cole. He's trying to manipulate you just like Cole. Your mind is filled with the horrible things that Cole did to you and the fear only intensifies. You can't have that happening again.

Your body only moves faster when you see the gates approaching. Thunder rumbles and lightning illuminates your path as sharp raindrops fall against your face. A cold rush of wind pushes you towards the exit.

But your mind and body seem to be working against each other, because when you finally reach the gates,

You stop.

Heavy breaths pull from your lungs as many thoughts race through your mind. You had spent the past weeks living a lie. You dedicated your time to caring for a doll the Heelshires called son while their real son lived locked away, hiding between the walls. He has been devoided of the outside world for twenty years. He didn’t die and the fire was all a coverup. Malcolm had told you that Brahms was suspected of killing a little girl when he was only 8. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the possibility of a child ending another's life. Your heart hammers against your chest and you begin to feel dizzy. The Heelshires forced him to live within the walls of his own home and away from civilization. He was just a child. Your chest aches at the thought of a small scared child having to endure that. Even if he had been raised a spoiled kid that always had it his way, it wouldn’t prove that he was capable of killing another kid.

"It's not fair!"

You huff out in desperation and ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms.

His parents most likely treated him differently now that he lived within the walls. By the scars you saw on his body, he was probably burned in the fire the Heelshires definitely started and they possibly even forced him to wear the mask. You can't even begin to think how horrible life has been for him all these years. He's not at fault. Yes, he killed Cole. But it’s possible he did it in order to protect you. You were the one to cry out for him. Cole would’ve killed you if he didn’t interfere. And he also got hurt in the process. For you. Cole stabbed him in the abdomen, maybe even impaled a major organ. He could die..

"Shit! No! NO! Stop it!" You curse at yourself in frustration and pull at the roots of your damp hair with your hands, digging your nails into your scalp.

You had been the one caring for him these past weeks. Even if you didn’t know he was alive and was babysitting a fucking doll, he was still relying on you to follow the schedule in order to survive. He tried to make you believe the doll was haunted, but only to ensure you didn’t discover his existence and followed the rules. Brahms Only wanted someone to care for him. This whole time, he hadn’t hurt you. What if he wasn’t trying to do so now. What if he's just scared you’ll abandon him like his parents did?

"I can't leave him...."

You take a deep breath and before you can step past the gates, you turn back towards the manor.

—————————————————————————

Part 2

[stitcheswashere13]

how do you think the slashers will react to their S/O doing a "Kissing Booth" for charity? What would the slashers do about it?

Could you include Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer and Thomas Hewitt? And I would like for you to add your choice of slashers ;)

I know it's a weird one, but I thought it would be interesting to see

lol! sorry, I got to this a lot later than planned Tumblr was glitching a lot! I added Brahms & Tiffany to the mix because I feel like he'd be a mixed one to write about lol.

on to the story!

Warnings!- Clingy slashers (mainly in Brahms) violence/ murder. & Fluff.

Slashers x kissing booth.

Brahms Heelshire!

Brahms loves the sweet caring side of you, he loves the fact that you are doing charity. However, he hates the kissing booth. He will try to convince you to sell lemonade and cookies instead. Brahms would even spin you around and give you a kiss and hand you 20$ while muttering "There, now you have a kissing booth here, how about you do cookies instead? I don't want my love getting hurt." If you insist to Brahms that you can only do the kissing booth or want to do the kissing booth, he would hesitantly agree to it but only on a few conditions.

Malcome MUST come with you to keep any creeps away

ONLY Forehead or cheek kisses NO Lip kisses or any other kiss, those are only for him.

Only if you promise him, you won't leave him and you'll come back for hugs and kisses.

Those are the only rules Brahms gave you as he sent you away with Malcome, already waiting for your return. (Yes, he did threaten Malcome to watch you, and to not true anything funny with you he will make his pet cat love him more the Malcome.)

Jason Vorhees!

Jason likes the idea, he just has to watch you from the trees. Jason will do this because 1. He doesn't want you getting hurt and 2. so if a creep comes up he's going to slit their throat. (He would probably grab out their wallet and give you whatever cash is in there). Before running back to the woods he would check that you are ok. Pam would be right by you with a sign that says "Don't want a kiss? How about a pie! 5$ Each." You two made a whole lot of money (Pam's Pies sold so quick and she was so happy people liked her pie.)

Micheal Myers!

Micheal isn't fond of this idea, but he says it's ok. He agrees but he has to stand by as a "little" attack dog. If a creep comes up he will do what Jason would do and kill them and take their money to give to you for the charity. If you get few customers because of the small town, when Micheal goes on a killing spree every person he kills's money would go to you and the charity. After you are done for the day, expect Micheal to be a bit clingy, he would want lots of hugs, kisses, and cuddles.

Bubba Sawyer! & Thomas Hewitt!

(I put these together because they would do the same thing.) So Tommy and Bubba both wouldn't mind the kissing both, both of their hearts would melt at you sweet jester and both of them would give you a kiss on your face and then hand you 10 dollars to make sure you have a nice start. The only difference they would do is that Tommy if he had to work in the field or help Mama Mae, would have Hoyt right by you. Hoyt (though being a fake sheriff) Would scare away any creep. Vs Bubba who if he had to leave to go help, would have most likely had Drayton out with you to scare the creeps away and attract the good ones or he would throw Nubbins out there to scare away the creeps. However, if no one is free then he will resort to Chop top, which Chop top would both scare the creeps away and also kiss a few people for money. (75% of the money only Chop top makes will go to charity and the rest would go to him lol.)

Tiffany Valentines!

Tiffany loves the idea and goes out with you with some Swedish meatballs to sell right by you. Any creep that comes out would be killed by Chucky and the money he gets from that person would go to you and Tiff. for charity. (Chucky would also buy some Swedish meatballs from Tiffany because he fucking loves her Swedish meatballs.) Glen would love to help but he sure as hell is not gonna help Chucky with the killings and won't be the one being kissed in the booth so You and Tiff. put him to be in charge of counting and organizing money, he loved his little job so much. Chucky and Glen were even laughing and having a Father-Son bonding time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

END NOTE! Thank you for the request! Sorry if it is a bit short! Request are open, I just may get to them slow! That's all I have to say for today sooo! Have a Very lovely day!

[ongit0]

Excuse me but 👀 I just finished The Boy (2016) and honestly, I have a fixation on Brahms

[ahmnom]

I’m obsessed and I have no clue why 😭😭 sorry to my followers lmao

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Brahms Heelshire (5/5)

Word count ; 3.0k

*Edited:3

“Brahms! At least wait until we’re sitting down,” I scolded lightly as I swatted at him.

Brahms had already stolen his plate of casserole and was starting to cut into it. So I couldn’t help but prevent him from doing so - even though I knew he wouldn’t start eating until I was looking away.

We went over to the table, and he sat at the opposite end of the long table. We made eye contact for a prolonged period of time. I knew he was waiting for me to turn around, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know what my captor looked like, and the curiosity was growing with every meal made.

“You can’t see my face, Y/n, look away,” he squeaked, squeezing his fork tightly.

“…Why? You can’t always wear that mask,” I retorted eagerly. I noted that during the past week, my anxieties had greatly decreased, despite the frightening circumstances. So I had the bravery to talk down to the man from time to time.

“…Because Y/n won’t like Brahms’ face. Brahms doesn’t want to scare Y/n,” he answered, sincerity laced in his voice.

“…Oh.” I was caught off guard by the innocent honesty. “Well, I won’t be. I want to see your face, Brahms.”

He visibly tensed. He dropped his fork and reached for the mask carefully. He paused just as he was about to tug it off, and our gazes connected. My heartbeat accelerated. There was an odd amount of intensity in the air.

“Go on,” I prodded once more.

With that, he pulled it off. I was rather surprised to see that instead of a creepy old man, it was the face of a roughed-up, scarred but handsome, young man. The right side of his face was scalded, most likely from a fire once upon a time. But even with such an imperfection, he was amazing to look at. A handsome face to match his strong figure.

He frowned and went to put the mask back on. I startled myself as I reached forward. “No! No, please don’t wear the mask. You look better without it… Brahms.”

His unkept eyebrows raised and he gently sat the mask on the table. “Really?”

I already knew that I was blushing intensely. I stuttered, "W - well, yes. You have a nice face and stuff.”

He was caught off guard, and he became bashful. Clearly, he was pleased to hear it, as he pulled away from the mask and went to gorge down on the food. I had to knock myself out of my stupor, still shocked from the sheer attractiveness of my captor. That was a major red flag for me - I mean, who found comfort in their kidnapper? That’s right up Stockholm syndrome alley.

The meal was silent as usual. Thank god for that, because I was way too flustered to comprehend words. I couldn’t help but occasionally glance at him, entranced by the dashing scar that covered half of his face. I mentally slapped myself every time, knowing better than to gawk at a murderer.

“Y/n?” Brahms suddenly spoke, having finished his meal.

“…Yes, Brahms?”

“Can I play the piano for you?” he requested shyly, using his child-like voice.

“You can play?” I asked curiously, rising to my feet, starting to clean up.

“Yes. Can I?” he pleaded eagerly, taking some of the dishes from me politely.

“Of course, Brahms. I didn’t realize you could. It suits you, though.”

Making my way towards the kitchen with Brahms trailing obediently behind me, I dropped off the dishes in the sink. The entire time while I was washing the dishes, Brahms was keen on getting touchy with me. It was unnerving at first, but I eventually leaned into his gentle caresses.

I scrubbed the silverware as his fingers danced over my waist. He felt and grabbed at my side, and his chest pressed against my back hungrily. Tingles were sent up my spine as his fingers drifted up to my shoulders and then my neck. He caressed my exposed flesh for a moment before fully wrapping his arms around my midsection. I almost spaced out when I felt his head bump against mine, the glass mask pressing into my hair. I became acutely aware that he was sniffing it. One of his hands came up and played with it, twirling my locks in his grasp.

From all the needy affection, I knew that my cheeks had to be incredibly flushed. A burning sensation gathered in between my legs, one that I cared to halt, so I sloppily dried off the last dish and stepped the side, away from Brahms. He was clearly disappointed, letting out a mewl, but I refused to go any further with him.

If anything, I sensed annoyance, an he stepped closer to me. I had to crane my neck back in order to meet his intense yet loving stare, one that I almost longed for. His masked visage was drawing closer.

I pressed my hands to his chest and once again created distance. “Are you going to play the piano for me?”

Brahms let out a low sigh. “Ah, yes please, Y/n.” He grasped my hand and intertwined the fingers before pulling me to the study.

I was getting rather comfortable with how touchy the man was. Clingy, needy, but oddly cute. And I hated that. How my brain was rationalizing his actions. How good he was treating me. How touch-starved and lonely I was, so much so that I easily threw away my trauma. I hated how good I was with him.

Upon entering the study, he pulled me to sit next to him on the bench. My heart raced in my chest as our arms brushed against one another. I held my breath as he started playing.

I was entranced with Brahms playing. His fingers were graceful and he didn’t waste even a moment to ponder what to play. It was as though he was one with the piano; his playing was beautiful. His fingers glided across the keys, the pacing perfect. What he was playing was one of Beethoven’s pieces that I’d become well-acquainted with during my stay. It started off peaceful, quiet, and then accelerated to booming, roaring action. His playing conveyed so much emotion, and I was positive this was the first time I had seen Brahms focus completely away from me.

He slowly came to a stop, finger lingering on the final key. He turned to me, eyes begging for attention and compliments. I recovered and met his gaze. “That was beautiful, Brahms.”

He let out a quiet squeak of delight, turning his body towards me. “Can I get a reward for being a good boy?” he requested bashfully, playing with his fingers.

“Well, what type of reward, Brahmsy?” I replied with a tilt of my head.

“Kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“Kiss.”

I bit my lip. Oh, how badly my body wanted to say yes. I wanted to completely erase any marks Malcolm had left on me. And Jason. Both of those… scumbags. Besides, it would just be a kiss; it’s not as though I’d caught feelings for the man.

“Fine.” I carefully reached to his mask. “May I?”

Brahms nodded.

I took it off, blushing as I investigated the details of his face, from the dimples to the wrinkles. My hands traced his recently shaved neck and I cupped his cheeks. My heart was beating so loudly I wouldn’t have been surprised that Brahms heard it too. I leaned towards him, and Brahms reciprocated eagerly, crashing his lips against mine.

The kiss started off small and sweet, lacking movement, but he quickly gained confidence. He grabbed my waist and back of my head, deepening the kiss. My body was on fire and I couldn’t help but return the passion, letting myself fall deeper into the kiss. Our lips molded together perfectly, more perfect than they ever had with Malcolm or Jason. I fully enveloped my arms around his neck.

Before I knew it, Brahms suddenly stood up, picking me up with him. I shrieked, breaking the kiss, but I was quickly tossed onto the love seat. My back pressed into the pillows and I kept my legs wrapped around his ribs. I pulled his lips onto mine again, falling completely into him. Oh, Brahms was making me feel a certain kind of way.

Brahms was grinding against me, and pulling away from the kiss, he made a trail of butterfly kisses against my neck. He pushed himself against me fervently, and I felt a bulge beginning to press into my crotch. My stomach was fluttering and I was massively turned on from the desperate attention the man was thrusting upon me.

Moans escaped from my lips, making Brahms attack my neck further. My hands found themselves gripping at his shirt, trying to feel at his bare chest. I explored his toned body thoroughly and he began to do the same, fingers grabbing at my chest and massaging my breasts.

I stopped myself before falling into a haze of attraction. I suddenly pushed Brahms away, both of us panting furiously. I wasn’t going to let it happen. I wasn’t going to fall into old habits with a man who was holding me hostage. I should at least get to know him better first —

“Please, Y/n,” he cried quietly.

His childish voice immediately turned me off and I scowled. “You - you got your kiss, no more. I’m not interested in doing that. You still… you still killed people. You still did bad things, Brahms, so don’t think I’m letting you into my pants that easily.”

Brahms let out a mewl of disappointment, pulling away. He stood up properly and readjusted his tank top. I sat up and fixed my shirt, casting my gaze away. “Besides, next time you try that, don’t talk like that. It’s weird and creepy. No woman would want to have sex with a wanna-be child,” I scolded, hiding my attraction with intense reprimands.

Brahms bowed his head and nodded shamefully. “Sorry, Y/n,” he sniffed.

I instantly became mortified. Was he crying? I blubbered, "Wait, no, don’t cry! I was just tense, don’t be like that.”

Brahms let out another sniffle and turned away. Oh, why was I being sympathetic? I sighed and rose to my feet. I hugged him from behind, securely wrapping my arms around his waist. “Seriously, it’s not worth crying about. Nothing to be done about it now.”

His shakings came to a stop and he appreciated the hug. After a few minutes, he stated, "Sorry, Y/n.” He seemed to be back to normal, so I ended the hug.

“Stop apologizing,” I stuttered. “It’s whatever. I… can I go for a jog now?”

“No,” Brahms boomed, turning to face me. He glared threateningly, and I instantly became wracked with terror. All the wholesome hodgepodge had made me forget that the man was scary. A murderer.

I took a step back, my heart racing for a different reason. “O - okay. T - then what do you want to do, Brahms?”

“Read to me,” he requested coldly, a menacing warning in his tone.

“R - right away, then.”

I went to the bookshelf and picked a poetry book. Brahms followed behind me, breathing down my neck. I hated that the notion caused my fear to turn to attraction.

I went to sit down on the loveseat, but Brahms beat me to it. I lost my balance and plopped on his lap, and before I could move off him, his arms wrapped around me and locked me in, trapping me on his lap. He still had a raging boner that was pressing into my butt.

“Read,” he demanded, pulling me closer to him. He placed his head on my shoulder, nuzzling into me.

“Y -yes, Brahms.”

~~~

I reopened my eyes once Brahms gave me the go signal. The man had a towel wrapped around his waist and I eyed him up and down, feelings blooming in my chest. I’d lost count of how many days, weeks, had passed since it had just been me and Brahms; I had yet to find a time to run away, hell, time to even think about it, as Brahms managed to consume every moment of every day.

And I hated that I didn’t mind it. I didn’t mind when he kissed me, cuddled me, sniffed my hair. In fact, I had grown to enjoy it. I felt loved, even if his actions were obsessive and maniacal.

Brahms had just finished showering, and I, of course, had to be in the bathroom with him. I couldn’t help but admire his physique, toned and muscular, better than any of my former partners had.

Brahms even took off the mask when showering. He smirked at me, almost as though he knew my thoughts. I huffed and turned to the mirror, starting to brush my teeth. Brahms changed from behind me, shuffling and moving around.

He finished before I did, wrapping his arms securely around my waist and, as usual, sniffing my hair. I paid his actions no heed, spitting out the remaining toothpaste and splashing my face with cold water.

I exited the bathroom and Brahms followed me loyally. The phone suddenly rang. Brahms glared at me, but I dismissed his small temper tantrum. “It’s just Ryleigh,” I reminded him, throwing myself onto the mattress.

I picked up the phone. “Hey girl, what’s popping?”

“You sound energetic. Isn’t it late there? Gosh, don’t tell me you’ve had sex, you’re only this way when you’ve had a nice dicking,” she instantly answered.

I rolled my eyes. Brahms laid down beside me. “I’ll have you know that no, I did not have a nice dicking. Or any dicking whatsoever. I’m not that way anymore.”

“Touche. Anyways, I got a job, and you won’t believe where.”

“Here in Britain, right?”

“You weren’t actually supposed to guess,” she whined. “But yes! Oh my god, I got a job working as a camerawoman for Love Island. That’s, like, my dream job that I never knew I had. I don’t start until next month, but I’ll be damned if I don’t go visit my bestie right away.”

I let out an excited gasp. “You’re kidding. Seriously? Love Island? The hottest, sexiest reality t.v. show? Girl, you gotta get me on that show —“

Brahms let out a growl fro beside me, enveloping me in a hug. I sighed and rolled my eyes once more.

“Weren’t you going steady with grocery boy, though? I guess you haven’t mentioned him recently. I should’ve known he wasn’t your type.”

“Yeah, it just didn’t work out. And when you’re here, I will be needed a knew grocery boy, so you’ll be that. Please?”

“Girl, of course. Anyways, I have some packing to do and a flight to sign up for. Good night, love you, sleep well, babes!”

“Good night, love you too. Call me tomorrow morning, ‘kay?”

I placed the phone on the receiver, flipping myself over. Out of habit, Brahms laid his head on my chest, and I played with his damp hair. I hummed a bit, serotonin in my veins.

“What did she say?” Brahms asked, trying not to reveal the jealousy I knew was there.

“She’s moving to Britain. She got a new job and everything,” I explained excitedly. “I know you still don’t trust me, Brahms, but pretty please let me go out on the town with her. I can even introduce you two! Don’t you want me to be happy?”

Brahms sent me a glower and huffed. “You’ll try to run away.”

“I haven’t even tried once.”

“Because I’m always with you.”

“You need to trust me, Brahms, and how can you ever do that if you don’t let me have some freedom?” I argued.

Brahs went silent, snuggling into my chest further. I sighed, realizing such a disagreement wouldn’t be solved tonight. I’d brought it up before, since I wanted to get back into jogging. I even proposed that he could come with me. But he shot down the idea. I felt like I was slowly chipping away at him, though, as he wasn’t as quick to argue earlier.

I wasn’t sure when the change had occurred, but with time, I’d grown to like Brahms. It was as though any memories of his previous misdemeanors had been completely forgotten. Not only forgotten, but excused. I had excused everything he’d done. Had I actually fallen for the man? Once upon a time I shuddered at the thought, but now… I just felt a vague sense of guilt.

I pushed Brahms off me. I went over and flicked off the lights. I stretched once more, heeding Brahms as he called me over. Brahms was impatient, but his behavior had grown on me. He was even teaching me a bit of the piano.

I went under the covers and turned on my side. Brahms mimicked my actions. He wrapped an arm around my waist and nuzzled his head into the back of my neck. Our legs intertwined, and the man let out a content sigh.

I did as well; it felt nice to be smothered every night. I felt… loved. I was acutely aware of how crazy the situation was, but I couldn’t help it. I had fallen for Brahms. I had yet to voice such thoughts, but maybe, just maybe, he’d be a bit more relaxed if I did.

“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered, placing a kiss on my neck.

“I love you too, Brahms,” I caved, pressing myself against him. I instantly froze when I digested what had passed through my lips. Brahms froze as well, clearly shocked by my reciprocation.

“Really?”

“I guess so.”