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softmangoes · 9 months

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night visits | brahms heelshire x reader

18+ only

summary: you've been having trouble sleeping a month after you started working at the heelshire manor. it's time to figure out why.

includes: fem domme! reader, face sitting, teasing, a very subby and needy brahms

You felt it again. The hands. In the dream, they roamed over your body, tracing the curve of your shoulder, gliding over the smooth expanse of your abdomen, slowing only once they came to your inner thighs. You shuddered as icy fingers crept closer to the warmth there as if they wanted to gently pry you apart, make you pliable. What would happen, you wondered, if you were to spread your legs?

Before you could get an answer, your eyes snapped open to the emptiness of your room - which was quiet save for the usual rustling within the walls. In your groggy stupor, you realize that your blanket had been cast aside, leaving your legs bare to the cold winter air. Was the heater acting up again? You wondered, slightly annoyed. Sooner or later, you'd have to ask Malcom to find a way to get it checked.

But for now, you brought the covers over yourself and fell back asleep.

The dreams had started at the end of your first month at the manor. The Heelshires had just left for their vacation, telling you that they would be back soon once they had enough of the coastal air. By that time, you had just started to get used to the strange routine they had set for you, so your days would be spent lounging on the divan with a book in your hands as the sound of a piano floated from the record player across the room.

But on that first night, you could have sworn you felt someone touching your hair. It started out as a gentle prod, a delicate brush over the stray strands that had stuck to your cheek that soon turned into what felt like someone slowing running their fingers through your hair.

In the morning, you simply dismissed it as a dream. You were alone in the house, after all. Still, you squinted at yourself as you brushed your locks in front of the mirror.

It's an old house, you told yourself. Strange things happened all the time in old houses.

You looked at the doll sitting on the chair across the room. And this house was certainly no stranger to the unusual.

"Maybe it's sleep paralysis," your friend said, her voice crackly over the bad reception. "I used to get it all the time in college. I'd feel breathing on my neck and things trying to grab me."

Your eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. "You think so? I guess it makes sense - it's a little creepy being along without the old folks around," you said, tapping the spatula against your mouth. Malcom was due to stop by at any time with the weekly delivery of groceries and you still had to plan for dinner. "Well, what do I do, then?"

"You try to open your eyes," she said. "Or move your feet. It's your body that's asleep, so shifting yourself should wake you up."

Later that night, you kiss the doll to end your daily ritual.

"Good night, Brahms," you murmured, wrapping the blanket around him. "You better not be up to any trouble."

Maybe you were going crazy. Maybe it was sleep paralysis. Maybe it was all because you hadn't slept well in a while.

Whatever it was, sleep found you nestled in your blanket and took you easily.

Sometime, somewhere amid the realm that separated consciousness and slumber, you felt a hand slip between your thighs.

You stirred at the sensation of a palm sliding over your vulva and what felt like a thumb pressing against your clit.

Something strange was happening.

You opened your eyes slightly and saw the shape of a man outlined in the moonlight.

It's a dream, you thought, shutting your eyes. It's only a dream.

After a minute, the hand removed itself from your shorts and you heard a faint creaking and then the familiar rustling within the walls.

In the morning, you slid your hand under your panties and found yourself sticky with wetness.

"I don't know what's going on," you lamented, leaning back against the pillow. "For fuck's sake."

Your thoughts wandered to the man from your dream. His broad shoulders. The curls in his hair. His large hand grasping you, his cool fingertips pressing against your seam.

You had no idea if what you were going through was just a dream, but perhaps it could be your fantasy.

Slowly, your fingers moved through the slick and your core embered as you made gentle circles around your clit.

Perhaps moving for this job had been stressing you. Perhaps you weren't prepared for how weird this position turned out to be. Perhaps you were just in need of some sort of release.

"Fuck," you gasped as your hips bucked against your fingers. Your other hand fisted the sheets as your climax shuddered through you, sending little shocks from your clit to your thighs.

Satisfied, you rolled over and sighed, chest heaving from the exertion. Your eyes fell to a crack in the wall. In the back of your mind, you wondered whether or not you were truly alone.

Curious, you slipped your shorts back on and walked to the wall. You pressed your ear against the old plaster and heard the familiar creak of wood along with an exhalation that sounded a lot like breathing.

Smiling, you decided that you were going to try something new that night.

After you capped off your daily routine of taking care of the doll, you brought the covers over your chest and closed your eyes.

Instead of drifting off to sleep, you waited.

After a while, you heard a rustling sound come from near the dresser across the room and the creak of footsteps padding against the wooden floor.

There was a man in your room.

Fear would have been the expected emotion to come over you in such a situation, but you could only feel the static of anticipation dance across your skin.

His breathing was soft, as if muffled by something. Within just a few moments, you felt goosebumps prickle your arms as your blanket was moved aside, exposing you to the cool air.

You felt a weight shift the bed. He was trying to come closer to you - perhaps he was testing how bold he could be. Fingers tentatively slid beneath your shirt, feeling the expanse of your abdomen before settling to cup your bare breast.

You fought against an inhale at his touch and instead, you wrapped a hand around his wrist and opened your eyes to find yourself face to face with a porcelain mask.

Surprised, his eyes went wide and he let out a muffled yelp. You thought he would have fallen back to rush to whatever hole he had crawled out if you hadn't tightened your grip on his wrist and pulled him closer.

"More," you demanded. "I want you to touch me more."

You watched as his eyes flicked from your hand to your face as if nervous. A gulp resounded from his mask as he nodded quickly, squeezing your breast as you worked to unbutton your shirt.

"There," you said, the sides of your silk shirt draped haphazardly over your chest. "You like what you see?"

As if in reply to you, he moved closer to you. He was tall and strongly built, the fibers of his work shirt clinging to lean muscle. You figured that he could easily overpower you.

Maybe he would, if you told him to.

"Good boy," you said, shivering at his thumb grazing your nipple.

So this...must have been Brahms. The real Brahms. Somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to feel shocked. All you could feel was the hunger for him to lay his hands on you.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, looking at the soft curls that fell over his mask.

He paused before giving you another nod. You raised your hand and ran your fingers through his unruly curls, causing him to pant.

"Mmm," he rumbled, his eyes rolling back at the pleasure of your touch.

"You poor thing," you cooed, dragging your fingernails down the length of his nape. "How long have you been wanting this?"

With a swift motion, you wrapped your legs around him and flipped him onto his back. He gasped in surprise, his hands holding your thighs to steady him.

"How long, Brahms?" You pressed, raking a hand across his chest, eliciting another delicious groan from him. "Tell me."

"Ev-every night," he croaked, his voice hoarse with underuse. "Aft...after the first month."

With your palms pressed against his chest, you lowered yourself so that your face hovered just above his. His eyes, wild with shock, scanned you nervously.

"Every night," you said slowly, giving weight to each word. "I tucked you into bed. And for a month, you kept me from having a good night's sleep."

You moved to the shell of his left ear and whispered, "I'm going to take back everything you took from me. Do you understand?"

He nodded, this time even more quickly.

"Please," he said quietly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"First things first," you said, tucking your fingers underneath the edge of his mask. "I want to see more of you."

His hand curled around your wrist as he shook his head.

"Bad," he said, almost panicked. "Very bad."

"Don't you want to be good for me?" You teased, sliding a thumb across his smooth porcelain cheek. "A good little boy - just for me?"

"Mm," he said, his voice high with excitement. "Good," he continued, hooking his thumbs beneath his mask to lift it from his face. "Yes, good."

Malcom had told you that years ago, that there was a fire at the Heelshire house.

You saw the flames in the rippled scar tissue that was spread across the right half of Brahms' face.

"Bad?" He shook beneath you, eyes welling with tears. "I look...bad?"

"No," you said, cupping his scarred cheek. The silvery skin was smooth. Even with the burn, he was handsome. The soft curls. His bright eyes. The strong jawline. You brushed your mouth against his, feeling his warm breath on your face. "You've been a very good boy."

At your praise, he crushed his lips to yours - the action hungry and desperate as his wet tongue probed your mouth.

"Been," he panted in between breaths, bunching his hand in your hair. "I've been wanting to taste you."

You rocked your hips against his groin, causing him to moan against your mouth.

"Well?" You said, sinking your teeth at the hollow of his neck. "What do you think?"

"More," he gasped, his hands moving to the waistband of your shorts. "I want, ah, I want more of you."

Quickly, you slipped your shorts and underwear, tossing it aside.

Once you finally discarded your shirt, he marveled at the sight of your naked form.

"Please," he begged, his fingers pressing into your hips. His eyes were glazed with desire. "I want to...taste you."

Not wanting to deny him, you lifted yourself so that your thighs hovered above his face.

"Thank you," he said, his strong arms wrapping around you before pulling your pussy to his mouth.

You grabbed the headboard for stability as his cold tongue desperately lapped at your clit. When you tried to pull away, shuddering at the intensity of his hunger, Brahms only tightened his hold on you.

"I want," he stammered against your wetness. "I want you to, ah, say...say my name."

"Fuck," you grabbed his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth.

He groaned, his tongue exploring your slit. Thighs shaking, you had his name pressed against your teeth.

"Brahms," you whined, fucking yourself against his tongue. "I need more."

"Mm," he nodded as he traced small circles around your clit, your core tightening as the climax shuddered through you.

You moaned his name, thighs twitching with aftershocks until you leaned back and fell over beside him.

Next to you, he wiped at the slick on his face and licked it off his fingers, relishing the taste of you.

After a moment, he rolled to face you.

"The sounds you made," he murmured, hands roaming to your thighs. "So pretty," he continued, making the pads of his fingers wet with your honey. "Let me hear them."

You gasped as he slid two fingers into your warmth, feeling yourself stretch to accommodate him. It had been a long time since you had been touched like this, and all you could do was rock against him, your body still sensitive from the orgasm you had a few minutes earlier.

"Brahms," you clawed at his shirt, panting. "I want to make you feel good."

"Okay," he said softly, leaning back against the bed.

"Take off your shirt," you directed. Obediently, he slipped off his cardigan and top, revealing a lean chest covered in dark, curly hair.

"Cute," you said, straddling him, feeling the length of his excitement against your thigh.

"You think...I'm cute?" He blushed, raising a hand to cover his face.

It was so strange to think that he was almost frightening earlier this night, but so pliable for you now.

"So cute," you took his hand away from his face so you could kiss him deeply, your hips rocking slowly against his.

Against your mouth, he whimpered at the friction.

"It feels good," he groaned. The sound of it was almost guttural, like a growl. "More," he begged. "Please." He dug his fingers into your hips, grinding you against his cock.

"Brahms," you took his hands in yours. "Be a good boy and take the rest off."

With a nod, he slipped off his pants, revealing a rock-hard erection.

"Oh," you said, marveling at the size of it. "What a pretty thing." You teased, rubbing the tip along your seam. "Can you feel how wet I am for you?"

"Please," he panted, almost whining. "I'll be good. Just...let me take you."

You groaned as his head met your slick clit. "But you're being so good for me right now," you told him, bracing yourself against his chest as you teased him near your entrance.

"Please!" He cried, taking your hips and slamming you against his cock.

You gasped at the length of him, but you could barely brace yourself as he started bucking into you hard.

"I've been bad," he said, wrapping an arm around you to secure you to his body. His breath was hot against your chest as he bounced you.

"But I can be good for you," he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking on it gently as he worked at it with his tongue.

"Brahms," you moaned, grabbing his curls as he fucked you relentlessly.

"I want you," he licked. "I want you all to myself." His arms tightened around you.

You couldn't help but churn your hips against his. Fuck, it felt good.

You bit your lip as your core tightened. You were about to come.

"Kiss me," he growled, and you brought your mouth to his as the climax rocked through the both of you. Thighs shaking, you could feel him twitch inside of you.

With a sigh, he loosened his hold on you and you leaned against his chest.

"Was I...good?" He asked once his breathing began to slow, his voice quiet.

"Did I do good for you?"

You gave him a peck on the cheek - although from the look on his face, it seemed like he wanted more.

"It was amazing," you told him.

Eyes wet with tears, he wrapped his arms around you. "D-don't ever l-leave me," he said. "I don't...ever want you to leave me."

"Shush," you pressed a finger to his lips. "I don't know where you got that idea," you said, bringing your mouth to his neck. "I think I'd like to have you to myself for a long time."

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x you #the boy 2016 fanfic #slasher fic #this is my first smut ever so i hope it's ok??#also i absolutely adore this needy creepy boy ugh i just want to ruin him #anyway pls enjoy this very self indulgent piece #no beta we die like men #my writing

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dawnbreakersgaze · 6 days

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Excuse me but the idea of MC and Xav sitting on their respective balconies and texting each other The Tea while people watching in their neighborhood is both so silly and so endearing to me.

So let's go on a small adventure, shall we?

Warnings: None.

Just fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.

The late morning sun was already warming you through the windows of your tiny apartment before you'd even stepped foot outside. It was finally mid-spring in Linkon, which meant you could enjoy your late breakfast on the patio without having to worry about a stray chill or errant frost dampening your weekly Saturday 'brunch' plans.

Opening the patio door with your granola bar in one hand and phone in the other, you settle into the cushioned bench that overlooked your apartment courtyard and took a deep breath. Sometimes it felt like winter was neverending in Linkon, but you could finally feel the tension of the gripping cold that had settled in your bones start to slowly bleed from you.

After getting comfortable, you finally pulled out your phone, and quickly found your brunch 'date's' contact info, sending him the customary "Get up it's people watching hour" text.

[Hey Xav, you up? I'm already on my balcony?]

It doesn't take long for his reply. This has been your weekly tradition for a few months now. Ever since you had both just so happened to see that kid getting dragged down the street by the monstrous hound, it had become something of a... habit for the two of you to text each other the funny happenings on your street when you were home. Not that either of you were particularly prone to gossip, but the simple domesticity of it was oddly comforting after a long week of getting slogged on by wanderers.

[Yeah I'm up. Give me a sec]

The soft ping of your notification broke the peace, followed shortly by the shuffling of his patio door sliding open from above you. Sure, you could simply call out and greet him, as the acoustics out here are great and the soundproofing is atrocious, but the silence is cozy, and the atmosphere almost feels magical. This is your ritual, after all.

It's a bit like a storybook scene, you think, the two of you sharing a moment in time together yet still separated by some outside force. Maybe it was silly, but the fabricated longing almost made it feel romantic in a way that you're sure your neighbor would find ridiculous.

When you hear his footsteps above you come to a halt, you immediately notice something in particular is missing, however.

[You forgot your coffee Xav. Are you gonna be able to stay awake?]

[How could U tell?]

[I didn't smell any burning 🤭🔥]

He doesn't reply, but you can hear the huff he makes over the railing as his footsteps retreat, fading behind the sliding door once again. You don't even try to hold back the laughter his reaction elicits from you, hopeful the concrete carries it to him easily.

When he finally does reemerge, faint smell of bitter charred beans on the wind, his phone is already buzzing with the morning's newest additions to your people watching portfolios.

An older man you'd long ago dubbed "Green Thumb" who liked to frequent the flower garden outside your apartment complex was already taking photos of the new stargazer lily blossoms that had just opened this morning. So enamored by the vibrant petals, he didn't even seem to notice the couple he'd backed into who'd happened to spill their groceries all over the sidewalk. You heard Xavier call "Watch out!" From above you when he'd recognized the impending impact, but at your distance, it was no use.

[That was nice of you Xav. Too bad it didn't help 🫠]

[I can't believe they didn't see Green Thumb. He was so hard to miss. Even when Ur distracted U still see better]

[HEY! I'm not the one who sleep walks! 💀]

[And yet I'm always there to guard Ur back partner]

He's right of course, though you're not going to tell him. Xavier likes to play the part of a soft and harmless little thing, but it doesn't take much to stoke the hunter into burning hotter than you intended. His evol might be light, but you know better than anyone that light, under careful concentration, can start a blazing fire if you're not mindful. His teasing isn't ever harmful though, so instead you decide to simply poke the bear.

[Only because I'm starting to suspect you like it back there]

The distinct sound of a phone accidentally hitting the concrete marks the end of that thread.

Its not long before another of your regulars, pair of young kids Xavier had called the Trouble Twins arrived on scene. Aptly named for the number of times their poor mother has chastised them for chasing the ducks and picking the flowers, the siblings were quite the rambunctious duo. Today they seem to be a few steps ahead of their vigilant mother, rushing into the park with high-pitched hollers and improvised swords made of small branches they'd found. Today's unfortunate conquest seemed to be the pigeons that were being fed by the local grannies.

[They look like a pair of knights today don't they?]

[Knights? Don't knights usually protect people?]

[Maybe they're protecting us from the pigeons]

[Xavier those old ladies look pretty mad idk. That one even tried to chase the boy and almost caught him!]

The pause in messages was punctuated by his soft laughter above you, carried on the spring breeze. It was so warm, so genuine, so comfortable. You didn't need a mirror to feel the heat bloom in your cheeks; the overwhelming sensation of ardor flooding you at the the very sound.

[You're right. He needs more training. A good Knight should never be caught by an old lady]

[.... I don't think that's the message here Xav]

The rest of your morning goes back and forth like this for another hour. Watching your favorite people pass by, concocting new and interesting stories for them as they pass your balconies. Xavier has very interesting and oddly insightful opinions on those around him, considering you don't really recall seeing him with many friends. None the less, his company and companionship on your balconies has easily become your favorite part of the week. The only noises between you are the laughter that passes back and forth as the texts volley from one to another.

Finally, as the afternoon sun starts to become an uncomfortable heat, your phone chimes once more.

[I'm getting kind of hungry]

[Oh good. You're warning me this time. Thanks!]

[What?]

[No. I was going to ask if U wanted to go to lunch. With me, I mean?]

And just like that, the storybook was snapping shut. No longer a fragment lost in time where two people gazed at the same scene together from two separate places, but a tangible moment you could step into. Something intimate and real.

Perhaps you stayed in this thought a moment too long, or your silence below him made him second guess himself, as the chime of your phone snapped you out of your daze again.

[I didn't mean to impose if U have plans]

[I know it's Ur day off too]

Fumbling with the suddenly slippery device, softly cursing, and praying he didn't hear, you quickly hammer out the only thing that's been playing in your head on repeat-

[Yes absolutely! I'd love to grab some lunch I'm starving]

[Meet me downstairs in 30?]

#look i had 3 hours of sleep and i chose to this idk why #written in a single go like a psychopath #and now im going to bed gnight ♡#lnds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love & deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier lnds #xavvy baby #kay writes #this text was just too cute I had too i was over come with emotions #god why is Xavier so adorable ugh #so soft boy sometimes i love himb #also-#not proofread we die like men #sorry im Le~ tired ill edit tomorrow

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