Hi! I wanted to know if it was okay to follow you! I’m seventeen and I know many people don’t like minors following them, so I figured it would be best to ask
-🍄Mushroom Anon
Hi dear 🍄 anon! I mostly post NSFW work that I rather minors not interact with. I do post sfw writings but it’s less often. I can’t force ppl to follow or not follow me, but I do add the warnings and tags for your(and other minors) safety. I would recommend to avoid my NSFW posts but It would be hard since it’s what I post more.
I REALLY appreciate you wanting to support me and follow, but I’d me more comfortable if minors didn’t interact with my mature 18+posts. For mine and others peace of mind.
Thank you sm for asking and I hope you have a great day- MUAH🖤 🍄!
Back at it again with my bs. Manny errors I feel lazy to correct rn but here's me wanting to post more. I'll go over them later. Also, I'm not a doctor so the medical treatments described will be inaccurate.
TW: Blood, gore, mentions of violence, reader having a life crisis, and a pinch of nswf :P. bit of a praise kink thing going on. bitch boy brahms ahead Minors Please DNI.
Wordcount:3k+
Taglist: @sowhatariyana, @carnationhcs, @auggiehuds (I have a taglist now apparently :0)
Part 1
"Just great".
You grumble to yourself when a raindrop falls on your face. The rain is just perfect for the mood. It really adds to the gloomy scenery. The lightning illuminates the path towards the manor and the thunder rumbles softly in the distance. The gentle rain droplets fall against your figure and the blowing winds ruffle your skirt and the surrounding foliage. It’s almost dramatic. Like a scene from a movie.
As you walk barefoot on the harsh gravel back towards the manor, you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shield your body from the cold. Your feet and arms are painfully freezing but your mind and heart are far too busy trying to calm down to even care about your current condition.
"This is a bad idea..."
You quietly tell yourself as you reach the driveway of the manor and continue towards the front door. But before you step on the porch, you recall Brahms locking the doors, meaning that entering through the front door wouldn’t be possible.
And neither was exiting....
"What the hell are you thinking!!?".
Your nails squeeze into your arms as you scold yourself. Not even 20 minutes ago, you had been running away from a man that everyone thought had died twenty years ago but lived inside the Heelshire manor's walls, killed your abusive ex, and had been chasing you to do god knows what to you.
But now, you were willingly going back towards possible danger because you blamed yourself for his injuries and pitted his state of life. You felt guilt.
He had been relying on you for the past couple of weeks for food and care. You were his only company. No one else knew of his existence other than his parents. But they are gone. And judging by the letters you had previously found, the Heelshires weren't coming back...
He has nothing else. No one else.
'You’re really going mad huh?' you interlay question yourself.
The rainwater drips from your face and you cringe at the feeling of your damp clothes against your skin. A sudden flash of lightning startles you and brings you back to your present dilemma. How to re-enter the manor. And considering if you should even go back inside.
Another flash followed by a distant rumble falls, and with a deep sigh, you turn to head towards the manor's side door. Malcolm would occasionally use the door to bring deliveries when he forgot his back door key and you wouldn’t hear his knocks. The door was always kept locked, which could only mean the key was somewhere hidden outside.
You immediately begin to look for the key when you approach said door. You lift the small doormat and look under, but find no sign of the key. You then check under the small potted plant to your left. Nothing. Inside the porch light holder. Nada.
"What the hell?" You exclaim as you continue to look under nearby decor and go as far as to check under rocks. But no key. "GOD DAMNIT!". You yell in frustration and throw the eighth rock you had checked under.
Your irritation begins to build more. The rain was only falling harder and the wind was picking up. You were running out of options.
You had considered the back door a possibility, but just like the front door, it was most likely locked. You couldn’t climb up to the second-story balcony in this weather, and even if you managed to, no doors would be unlocked considering that you would religiously maintain them as such. There was also the fact that the windows were painted shut, so there was absolutely no way they would open. 'screw you, you tradesman fuck'. The only way left for you to enter the estate would be the same way you exited...
You hug yourself as the memory of crawling through the walls and under the pipes while being chased by Brahms sends shivers down your spine. And once again, make you question your 'oh-so-stupid' decisions.
Not wanting to go through the small cramped space again, sends an idea to your mind. You slowly turn towards the rock you threw behind you and then back towards the glass panel on the door. If you break the glass, you could reach inside and unlock the door; technically breaking in.
"oh, what the hell", you sigh and turn away from the door to walk towards the rock. You hesitantly pick it up, feeling its rough edges on your palm as you clench it and place your fist on your forehead, and sigh. "You’re really about to break into a rich ass house aren't you?" you tell yourself. With one last deep sigh, you raise your hand that holds the rock and turn towards the door.
But before you can throw the rock, it falls from your hand when you're startled by a tall shadow that now stands behind the door.
You hold your breath and stare at the looming figure through the distorted glass panels. The lack of light makes it even more difficult to make out any details. Your heart pounds against your chest and you are frozen in place. The rain falls heavy against your figure, but you don't dare move an inch.
A startled gasp leaves your lips when you hear a soft 'click' coming from the door lock before the figure slowly disappears. You stand frozen for a few more seconds, staring at the door, before your body finally decides to move.
With trembling hands, you reach for the door handle. You take a few more seconds, catch your breath, and reconsider everything that has happened in the past hour or so.
Many thoughts and images race through your head and you close your eyes to try and sort them out.
'what the hell is wrong with you?!. Are you seriously going to go back in after you fought so hard to get out?!' your grip on the handle tightens. 'he needs my help' you try to argue with yourself. 'HE KILLED COLE' your mind basically screams. Your knuckles are impossibly white as your argument In your head persists. You cycle through the events but keep thinking back on Brahms’s state. "He needs me"...
You loudly grunt, shoving all your thoughts away, and in a flash, push the door open. Your body is propelled forward and towards the floor as a gust of wind basically throws open the door, pulling you along. You land on your hands and knees and the howling wind spills into the minor. Your embarrassment overtakes your shock and you push yourself up quickly, and turn to shut the door.
You hold yourself up against the door breathing heavy, trying to catch your breath. Your damp hair and clothing are more noticeable now that you're out of the rain and wind and you can feel the weight of it pulling you down.
Your eyes shift down towards the door lock and you reach to turn it but your hand is met with a wet substance. And that's when you see it.
Blood.
Your heart rate picks up once again and you're immediately reminded why you returned. "Brahms..."
Your head whirls behind you and you squint your eyes through the darkness and catch sight of the trail of blood that is littered across the hardwood floor. You slowly follow it away from the entry and towards a small hallway. You enter the dark hallway and continue but stop in the middle of the hall where the blood trail abruptly ends—but before you have time to question it, you feel a presence behind you.
You quickly spin around but then freeze in place. The soft moonlight that seeps through the large windows behind him emphasizes his tall dark form. There at the other end of the hall, Brahms stands just a few feet away from you.
Alarms go off in your head and scream for you to run, to get away from the possible harm he may cause you. But you stay in place.
"Brahms..." You speak but it's barely above a whisper. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your palms in an attempt to keep yourself from running away. "I-I came back..f-for y-"
Before you can mutter anything else, Brahms begins to walk toward you. The stained porcelain mask that covers his face slowly becomes more visible with each step. Your heart rate picks up for what feels like the thousandth time today as his figure slowly approaches you. Through the darkness, you can see his shoulders rising and falling from his heavy breathing. When his towering figure stands right in front of you, you advert your gaze towards the floor in order to avoid his stare.
"I-I came to h-help you..." You stutter. Your eyes squeeze shut when you feel him move closer to you, towering over your shorter form. His face moves closer to your head, barely touching your hair with his porcelain mask...It's almost as if he's breathing you in.
You open your eyes and you come face to face with his rapidly rising and falling chest. Due to the proximity, you can see the sweat glistening on his chest and the hair that peeks past the off-white tank top he wears. You can't help the small heat that rushes to your cheeks when you notice his built body, even through the baggy clothes he wears.
You quickly advert your gaze away from his chest and catch sight of the red stain on his clothes. That's when you see it. The bloody wound on his abdomen.
"You're bleeding!" You gasp out a bit louder than expected, making Brahms jump and take a step away from you. His eyes widen and stare at your trembling hands as they move towards him.
"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. " You apologize. You slowly reach towards the wound. His gaze burns into your hands, making you pause just centimeters from his body.
"Can I?" You softly ask, not wanting to cross any boundaries. Oh, The irony of your situation. You're really asking him if you can touch him when he had been chasing you through the house not long ago. But to be fair, he did get hurt trying to save you.
You look up towards his stare. You're close enough that you can see the green in his dark eyes and notice the bloodshot red in his right eye. His own stare dances between your features, trying to read your expression.
"P-please. I want to help. It could get infected if we don't tend to it." You say, trying to calm the turmoil in his eyes. After a few seconds, he responds with a slight nod.
With that, your reach for the fabric of his shirt and lift it a bit to better look at his wound, not missing the way his breathing quickened when you make contact with his flesh. You try to ignore it and study the slash on his abdomen. It's messy and swollen and although very slowly, it is still bleeding.
"Let's get you to the bathroom, there's a first aid kit there. We need to get it cleaned and stop the bleeding" you say. You look up at him and he's already staring down at you. Your eyes catch sight of his clenching hands at his side.
"Come, " you slowly reach for his hand. He doesn’t pull from your grasp, so you take his wrist and softly tug. "We need to do this as soon as possible"
He stands for a few seconds, staring down at your connected hands. You swear you can hear his heart rate, but you dismiss it as your pulse in your ears. His face turns to yours and he slightly tilts his head, almost in question at your actions. You give him an encouraging nod, and with that, he follows as you guide him towards the nearest restroom.
Once you enter, you guide him towards the tub and motion for him to sit on the ledge. You take a step back from him and even sitting, he is almost at eye level with you. His height should scare you, but in some way, it intrigues you. It makes you wonder how he was able to manage to live in such cramped spaces while being over 6 feet tall—And not to mention his not-so-small physique.
You realize you have been staring at him lost in thought and only remember you're still holding his wrist when Brahms lifts his free hand to take a hold of your rain-soaked sleeve. It's now your turn to stare down at his hand on you—There's still speckles of dried blood on them.
"Your clothes, they’re wet"
He states in his childlike voice and it startles you a bit. Hearing the voice of a kid coming from a grown man in his twenties is very odd to you. And it's even more freakish when you previously believed the voice belonged to the ghost of a dead 8-year-old.
"Y-yea, the rain was pouring pretty hard" You give an embarrassed chuckle and pull away from his touch. A low disappointed huff escapes Brahms when you let go of his wrist.
"You’ll catch a cold." He says, still in that voice, with a tilt of his head, dark brown locks falling over the porcelain of his mask.
"ill change later. Right now, I need to tend to your wound"
Before he can protest, you quickly turn towards the sink to look for the first aid kit. You catch a glimpse of your appearance in the mirror. Your hair is still wet but beginning to frizz up, and it lays a mess on your head. Your skin looks a bit pale due to the cold and you can already see eyebags beginning to form under your eyes.
‘you look like utter crap' you tell yourself.
Your eyes catch sight of Brahms’s reflection as he stares at you checking yourself out. You clear your throat and quickly smooth your hair down before looking under the sink for the kit.
You take the kit and return to step in front of Brahms. You lay the kit on a near-surface and open it, taking out the things you'll need to clean his wound. You then turn to him in order to start but a sudden realization hits you like a truck— you can't access the wound with his clothes in the way.
" You n-need to take off your shirt. O-or else I won't be able to access the wound" You tell him, trying to avoid eye contact.
"Okay" He replies., the childish tone still not leaving his voice.
You hear shifting and look up to see him beginning to slide off his green cardigan. Your eyes immediately are glued to his biceps.
'Jesus! when did this man have time to hit the gym?' your thoughts run wild. You suppose that having to move about and maneuver through the walls would be enough physical activity to build muscle. 'or good genes perhaps'
You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a soft pained grunt leaves Brahms as he tries to lift his white top.
"Here let me help!"
You shoot up quickly and take hold of the edge of his tank top. You slowly lift it, careful not to disturb his wound. He lifts his arms, and you pull the tank top off completely and throw it in the pile along with his cardigan. Your face turns beet red for the hundredth time when you're able to fully look at his uncovered upper body.
Not wanting to stare for too long, you turn to grab a damp cloth, and when you turn back towards him, you go straight to cleaning his wound. You have to bend down a bit in order to wipe off the blood and dirt from around the abrasion and you can feel his stare on your every move. When you get near the wound, a soft jolt leaves his body.
"S-sorry.Does it hurt?" You ask him.
"No, just surprised me" The child voice replies.
"You can talk to me in your regular voice y'know?" You look up at him "you don't have to use that voice anymore". His eyes shift between your own stare, contemplating your words.
"O-okay" He breathes. His voice shifts from the higher pitch down to a lower more natural-sounding one. His normal voice sounds much deeper and…better.
"Good" You give him a soft smile before turning back to finish cleaning up the wound.
After it's all cleaned up, you're able to see the wound better. The bleeding finally stopped and It's not as deep as you had originally thought, but it was starting to swell up due to the trauma. You reach for a bottle of disinfectant and dab some of the liquid on a gauze pad. "This is to make sure it doesn’t get infected. It might sting a bit"
He gives you a small nod before you dab the product on the wound. Immediately, Brahms reacts with pained grunts. His hands grip the edge of the sink as you continue the stinging treatment.
"It's okay. It's okay." You soothe as you quickly finish disinfecting the wound and pull the gauze pad away. "There, I'm done".
His eyes are droopy and his chest is heaving. The color on his neck turns a bit paler due to the pain. You quickly reach over for a gauze patch and place it over the wound, covering it in order to allow for it to begin to heal. And before you can think about it, your hand reaches to brush away the curls from his masked forehead.
"There, all done. You did very good." You try to reassure but it comes out a bit more like praise.
His eyes shoot wide open and stare into yours. You freeze in place and stare back into his eyes. A glint of something you can't quite name fills his gaze.
Your hand still on his messy curls, shifts lower onto the cold porcelain of his mask and stops to caress his covered cheek, palm brushing against the hairs of his beard that peek out from under the mask. His own larger hand slowly reaches up to take a soft hold of your much smaller wrist and leans his face into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes as he drinks up your touch. His own touch sends sparks through your skin. Your free hand reaches up to rake through his dark curls.
At this, you can feel the shiver that travels through his body. His breathing comes out more like a pant and you can hear his breath hitch when you slightly scratch your nails against his scalp.
A tinge of sadness suddenly fills you as a thought crosses your mind. Brahms had probably been deprived of human touch for as long as he's been living inside walls—Deprived of any human company other than that of his parents. And even then, they probably didn’t really pay much mind to him.
Instead, they treated the doll like it was a real boy when their actual son was living within the walls of his own home.
"You poor thing" you soothe in a sympathetic voice, continuing your caress. "You must’ve been so lonely"
His eyes softly open to look up at yours. They’re glossy and his pupils are dilated. His breathing becomes heavier with each stroke of your hands on his curls.
"it's okay, I'm here now"
You slowly lean closer to his face. Your lips touch the cold porcelain of his mask, leaving a small kiss on his forehead. You can feel his body slightly tense under your touch. The hand on your wrist slightly tightens and a choked whimper leaves Brahms when you pull away. The sound alone sends heat through your body.
"kiss"
Brahms speaks, his voice ragged but holding the childs tone again.
"What did I say about speaking in your regular voice?" You softly raise a brow at him.
"k-kiss" he breathes in a broken whisper. In his normal voice.
Your hand leaves his curls to rest on his other masked cheek. You lean down and place another soft kiss on his right cheek. His free hand also reaches up to wrap around your other wrist. Your lips leave his mask, but you don't pull away completely, leaving you face-to-face with him.
"More," he says, barely above a whisper.
"Where are your manners?" You tease with a soft grin.
"P-please, more", he softly pleads, his eyes teary with what can only be described as desperate need.
As you lean closer, you can feel his hands almost pulling you towards him, but not quite forcefully. You gently kiss his other cheek, lingering for a few seconds before moving and leaving a second kiss closer to the lips on his mask. Your own heavy breaths mix with his as you move closer, barely touching the porcelain of his lips.
"One more....please"
You comply with his request and crash your lips to his, moving your warm lips against his still cold ones. He presses his face closer to you in an attempt to reciprocate the one-sided kiss. Needy moans escape his throat and his hands pull at your wrists, almost fearing that you will pull away.
But eventually, you need oxygen, so you break the kiss to catch your breath. Brahms also sounds out of breath and you push back to see his neck and naked chest flush pink. Your eyes move down his chest and past his abdomen, where you catch sight of his clothed arousal.
Brahms calls your name in a needy, out-of-breath moan when he sees you staring at his trousers,sending heat to your core.
"I'm here Brahmsy" you soothe, moving your body closer to his, making him have to part his legs, and slide between them. "I'm right here". You press your body flush against his, allowing some friction between you and the hardness in his pants.
A desperate whine leaves Brahms and he releases your wrist to hug your torso closer to his body. This allows you to move your hands to hold the back of his head and pull it towards you and press his cheek against your chest.
"Let me take care of you"
sorry for edging you, babes :p. Don't worry I'm already working on the next part
May I make a request for Thomas hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and you can pick whoever else!
for his S/o who is an axe thrower and in general very good with axes? usually that's their main weapon when they're going hunting for victims
Yay, my first official ask! And ofc you chose my fav texas boys! (I chose my boy Jason too because I feel like it was fitting for the theme lol). Sorry it's a bit long I got carried away. Thank you and hope you like it
is it axe or ax? because google says it's both but my spellcheck apps tell me otherwise. I'll use both just in case :p
Warnings: My usual potty mouth :p. Mentions of violence and blood. (A bug gets killed in Tommy's🧍🏻♀️sorry in advance) Just typical slasher stuff
Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and Jason Voorhees with an Axe wielding S/O 🪓
Thomas Hewitt 🤎
First of all, and this goes without saying, all of these slashers will express some level of concern with their s/o wielding any type of weapon.
For Tommy, he would be in the middle of the three.
Not super concerned, but enough to be worried you’d accidentally hurt yourself.
Even if his S/O was extraordinarily skilled at throwing an ax, he would still be scared for their safety.
But don't get me wrong, he would be amazed at your skill.
It would be a hot texas afternoon when he saw you first show your skill.
The both of you had gone out to collect some wood for Luda Mae's wood stove and you decided to tag along with Tommy and offered to carry the chopping axe he would use for splitting the larger trunks after he cut them down with his chainsaw.
He would be a bit wary of you holding the axe but wouldn’t 'voice' his concerns. Only watched you to make sure nothing happened.
He'd be a bit confused when he caught sight of you inspecting the axe, turning it over, and checking how heavy it was. He'd be even more surprised when you'd comment how "It's got a nice weight" and "it might need to be sharpened soon"
But what really caught him off guard? When the both of you sat down under a small shade to rest after having pilled up all the wood, you pointed at an annoyingly noisy cicada that was on a tree trunk a few feet in front of your spot on the ground and told him "I bet I can hit it from here"
He'd given a rumbly chuckle and motioned you to go ahead and try.
But instead of throwing a rock like he thought you would, you reached for the axe next to him and threw it at the tree, sticking the axe on your target and making the cicada past tense 🧍🏻♀️
He'd sit stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it when he'd see you cheering and saying how you still "got it".
If you expressed enough interest, he would go as far as to make your own small throwing range and make targets out of wood slabs. (Using his own chainsaw-wielding skills for something else)
He'd also go out of his way to find an axe fit for his S/O's liking.
Also, it would bring him a bit piece of mind knowing that they’re equipped to defend themselves in case a 'trespasser' attacks them.
And such was demonstrated when one tried to escape and his s/o used their axe to stop him. Yea, let's just say he stopped in his tracks to lay face down and closely check out the grass 👀
Best be assured Hoyt will ask you to help 'deal' with trespassers more often after that.
Overall, Tommy would support his s/o's love for axe throwing ❤️
Bubba Sawyer🧡
This big sweetheart would be the least concerned out of the slashers.
He'd be pretty chill about his s/o having a gift in the ax-throwing arts.
He'd be the most amazed as well.
Quite frankly, he'd be more concerned for the safety of his brothers
Why you may ask?
Well because the first time he saw his S/O's great skill was during a quite rowdy family dinner.
It all began when Nubbins thought it was a good time for show and tell, and emptied out his never-ending sack/bag of trinkets right on the table. Various items spilled out and some even fell off the table. But the most noticeable? A mother freaking hatchet.
"Where the damn hell did ya' get that?!" Drayton would ask.
Nubbins would then inform you all how he got it from some guy who was 'passing by' and was now unalive outside the property.
This was new information for the rest of the household.
The older Sawyer would rise in anger and begin yelling at his brothers, including Bubba, about how they failed to inform him of this and even began to get physical by throwing food at them.
But you being you, were quick to defend your hubby and state how he also didn’t know. Thus creating more chaos during dinner.
One thing leads to another, and before Drayton could hit Bubba with his stick, you reach for the hatchet on the table and aim at the piece of wood in his hand and throw it. Successfully cutting it in half, just above his fingers.
The brothers would all freeze and then slowly turn in sync to look at the axe stuck in the wall and then back at your fuming figure.
Drayton would stare at his intact hand like👁👄👁
He would then calm down and Bubba would just stare at you in awe. Happy that you'd stand up for him but also astounded at your aim.
Since then, it wasn’t uncommon to see you walk around with the hatchet in a makeshift holster at your side.
The oldest Sawyers would be more careful with what they say to your dear Bubba when you're around, in fear of angering you and earning themselves an ax to the face.
Bubba would frequently point at random objects or spots and ask for you to throw the axe and hit them. Sometimes as a way to playfully 'test' your aim.
He would celebrate your bullseyes with you and would even carry you and spin you around. So cute.
You would also accompany him more often to deal with the 'passerby’s'
If you offered to teach him or even play a small game he would be a bit hesitant at first, scared that he would end up hurting you.
But would then ease in after much reassurance.
In conclusion, Bubba would even go as far as to encourage his s/o's love for axe throwing ❤️
Jason Voorhees 💛
Now this man,
THIS Man would be the most concerned out of the three.
In the beginning, he wouldn’t even let his s/o near any of his own weapons in fear that they might get hurt.
if he could, I bet he would go as far as to baby-proof the whole cabin. THE WOODS!
So how does his S/O achieve using their skill?
After countless of begging and nagging of course.
You'd have to convince this man and reassure him that you won't get hurt.
This would take months 🧍🏻♀️
But eventually, he would break.
At first, you'd have to agree to only use an axe under his supervision.
Surprisingly, he would let you choose any of the many types of axes he has in storage,'left behind' by campers 👁, as long as it wasn’t to heavy or something, you didn’t pay attention to what he was signing because you were to busy checking out all the cool axes.
You chose a dope ass tomahawk
There would be a designated throwing range/area for you designed and approved by him.
He would mark targets on trees and hang objects for you to hit.
He would also make you wear gear that campers 'left behind'👁
Gloves,steel-toed boots, and even a climbing helmet wtf
But you'd go along with it as long as you got to throw a darn axe
When you finally, FINALLY, get to throw an axe, he's sweating bullets and all worried.
But you throw that thing like there's no tomorrow and hit the furthest away target dead in the center.
He just stands there like 🧍🏻♀️
After a couple of throws and bullseyes, he becomes a bit less worried, JUST A BIT. He still all mother hen on ya.
After a while, he would let up and let you throw without having on more protection that the pope's security team.
Aaaaand eventually without him watching over you like a hawk.
But what really loosens him up was when you'd use your skill on a trespassing camper.
One had been tougher than expected and fought back, bodyslamming into Jason and gaining the upper hand.
The camper was about to stab Jason with his own machete,
but dearest oh dearest,
you chopped that mofos hand (unlike with Drayton) with one clean throw before he could hurt your man.
The stunned silence that came out of our Jason was louder than his usual silence.
After that whole situation, Jason allowed you to join him as a 'scout' to deal with campers.
He's still all panicky about it but learns to trust you and your skill.
With all that being said, Jason would learn to accept his s/o's love for axe throwing ❤️
-----------------------------------
I just noticed that i wrote about three slashers that mostly don't talk.
I took some artistic liberties on this one.
If you guys have any requests, feel free to send them my way. MUAH!
Hey I'm wondering if you could make a part2 to the please don't leave brahms heelshire,you just have really good writing but if you don't want to it's up to you, your choice.
It’s already in the works 🤭 I’m just working on some other stuff, but I’ll probably be posting part 2 soon. Thank you!!!
Summary: Reader has been suffering from back pain and Tim comes up with an idea to help.
WARNINGS: NSFW(fingering, oral, unprotected sex), some fluff, Praise kink, pet names, teasing, body worship? pleasure dom Tim? slightly sub reader?. I suck at warnings. ['g-spot' is unisex/GN], Language, MINORS DNI. Tim being an absolute sweetheart for his s/o. Big strong Tim makes brain go burr
Wordcount: 3000+
Notes: This is my first time actually posting smut :\ never had the guts to put it out there. Please let me know what you think. Muah :*
[This fic has not been proofread. Please ignore my grammar and punctuation mistakes English is not my first language]
tim/Masky simps come get yo juice
"I fucking hate this job". You grumble under your breath as you, not so effortlessly, drag the bloodied body of an unfortunate trespasser through the dark Slender forest, all while your back and neck scream in pain due to the strain on your muscles.
"I don't think this counts as a job if we don't get paid for it". Tim replies with a low chuckle at your side whilst effortlessly carrying a body over his shoulder. He makes it look so easy and it only contributes to your bad mood.
"Here should be fine", The masked proxy says and drops the body from his shoulder "Rake should be able to sniff them out". You follow along and set the bodies together.
"We should get going before he decides we are also on the menu," you tell the brunette while wiping the mud and blood from your gloved hands. Tim does the same and the both of you turn back and begin to make your way towards the mansion you had begun to call home.
"Ugh, I need a hot bath". You exclaim with a heavy sigh while rubbing the back of your sore neck, trying to ease some of the tension in your muscles.
Being a proxy for the Slenderman was a very demanding "occupation" if it could even be called that, so you were constantly left with aches and sores that seemed to never go away. For the past weeks, you’ve had a particularly constant back pain that had been making your life more miserable.
"Your back still giving you issues?". Tim asks and momentarily shifts his gaze towards your sulking form.
"It feels like it's never going away". You complain and kick a stick from your path. The crunching of leaves and twigs snapping beneath both of your boots fill the quiet cold night of the forest. The both of you walk in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Tim breaks it.
"If you'd like, I could come by your room later and rub your back for you". He suggests and turns to you.
You stop in your tracks and It takes you a couple of seconds to process his request. You study his body language, waiting for him to laugh or show any signs of it being some sort of dirty joke. But he was sincere and showed genuine concern. You blink a couple of times behind your own mask before finally replying.
"W-well it does sound nice, but aren't you busy later?". You ask rubbing the back of your neck, and this time not because of the pain.
"I can ask Brian to finish some of my tasks, he owes me a solid for covering for his ass last time he wanted to take the day. That way I can have more time with you". He replies with a shrug.
Your face heats up at his casual response and you thank the lord for your face covering. While Tim wasn’t the big affectionate type, he would show his love for you in acts of service. He also wasn’t the most available person timewise, so his offering to make time for you stirred something in you.
"Then I'll be waiting for you". You happily reply.
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It had been a couple of hours since you returned to the mansion. You finished one last task before you headed to your room to take a very much-needed bath and rest up. Tim on the other hand, still had other things to do, so he had been out for the past 3 hours or so.
But as promised, before the night ended, the proxy made his way to your assigned room. Tim knocked on your door in a familiar pattern, letting you know it was him before he slowly opened your door and entered.
You were lounging on your small beanbag in the corner of your room sketching away in your notebook, having only your desk lamp on for illumination. Some rock music turned to a low-volume played on your phone. You turn at the sound of your lover entering your room.
Tim greets you with a soft 'hey' as he takes off his sand-colored jacket and hangs it. He then takes off his mask and places it on your nightstand.
"Hi". you greet him with a smile once he turns his unmasked face in your direction, his handsome rough features barely lit by the light of your lamp. "Brian cover for you?".
"He was bitchin' about it, but yea". He replies while kicking off his boots and placing them by your door. The both of you would often spend the night in each other’s room, so you kept spare clothes around for sleeping. Tim made his way to your dresser and grabbed some clean clothes. "I got this from the infirmary, Doc Smiles said it's good for muscle pain relief," Tim says. He takes out a small bottle from his pocket and tosses it to you. You catch it and inspect it closely. The words "sore muscle" and "relief" are like music to your ears.
"This better work because I'm ready to rip my spine out". You tell him with a hopeful sigh.
"Alright then c'mon", Tim, now in fresh clothes, offers out his hand for you to stand. You put your sketchpad down and take his hand. After your bath, you had changed into one of Tim's shirts that fit pretty loosely on your form, and a pair of comfy sleeping shorts. Tim guides you to your bed and lets go of your hand once you're at the edge.
"Lay down and get comfortable". He says with a soft adoring smile that filled your tummy with butterflies and lightly guides you with a hand on your hip. Gentle Tim is something that never fails to get you flustered.
You comply and lay face down and rest your crossed arms and chin on your pillow. You feel the left side of your bed slightly dip under Tim's weight as he sits on the side. You hear the 'pop' of the lotion bottle and feel him shift. Tim's hands are gentle as he places them on your back to lift your shirt just above your shoulders.
"Where does it hurt most?". He asks while slowly gliding his cold hands on your exposed back, making you shiver at the contact. This earns you a soft chuckle from the brunette.
"T-there". You say with a slight grunt as he touches the sorest part of your lower back. Tim hums in acknowledgment and removes his hands from your back to reach for the lotion. He squeezes some onto his hands and rubs them together before placing them back on your back. You’re immediately hit by a soothing cool sensation and you let out a sigh of relief. He begins to slowly rub your back and you can't help but let out another sigh.
"Feels good?". Tim asks with a smirk on his face. The slight menthol scent reaches your nostrils and relaxes you even more.
"Feels like heaven". You manage to mumble out, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow. Tim chuckles once more at your reaction.
He continues to work the lotion all throughout your back, massaging the knots out of your muscles.
"You should consider ditching the whole killing thing and become one of those massage therapists". You say and look back at him over your shoulder.
"If I did, then whos going to do my job?". He asks with a smug smile adorning his features as he continues his motions.
"You said this wasn’t a job if we don't get pa-aaaid ah!" Your sentence is cut off by a moan of pleasure when Tim applies comfortable pressure to your most affected area. You shut your eyes and your face burns when you hear Tim's deep chuckle as he continues to manipulate the muscles. You fail to conceal another slightly louder moan as he goes over the sore spot. The sounds you make combined with your face contorted in pleasure send heat to certain parts of Tim's body and seem to please him even more than you.
His hands begin to drift lower on your body and it sends blood rushing to your sensitive parts. You feel the bed shift and the heat of Tim’s breath hit your exposed upper back.
"You really have been in pain haven't you?". He asks, his voice low and deeper. There's a hint of concern and guilt in his tone. But you can't help but focus on his warm breath against your skin.
Tim brings his lips down and tenderly kisses your skin. The stubble on his chin softly scratches at your skin and sends sparks throughout your body. All your can manage is a weak “mhm” while he rubs lower down your back.
Tim places another gentle kiss further down your back while slowly moving his hands just above the waistband of your shorts.
"I should've asked for a massage sooner ahh~" you tell him between breaths. Tim's lips move lower and so do his hands.
"You shouldn’t have to ask. I'm the one that should’ve offered sooner. It's clearly been affecting you". He speaks lowly, his apologetic undertone pulls at your heartstrings. But the thought of how much he cares for you drives you crazier. Tim's hand motions momentarily stop and he shifts up, closer to your head.
"Let me make it up to you", He breathes into your ear and moves his large hands lower, gently caressing your ass through your shorts. "How's that sound, doll?".
You can't help but let a whimper escape your lips as he massages you a bit firmer. Your skin heats up and you can feel yourself become more turned on.
"Can I take care of you? Replace the pain with pleasure? You want that, baby?". He asks. His voice is husky and he's breathing a bit heavier. Almost pleading for an answer. Hoping that you’d let him alleviate your stress. That you’d let him be the one to help you.
Your heart races and unable to formulate words, you whimper out a soft 'yes'. Tim breathes out a soft relieved sigh and moves to kiss the back of your neck a couple of times. His hands continue to kneed your bottom but become a bit firmer with each kiss.
"I'll take good care of you, beautiful".
You let out a surprised gasp when he teasingly nips at your flesh with his teeth, but it turns into a moan when his hands palm at your heat through your clothing.
You bury your face into your pillow and hug it harder when his hand slides beneath your shorts. You can hear his breath hitch when his hand doesn’t come into contact with more fabric.
"No underwear huh?", He lowly chuckles as his fingers brush between your thighs and the exposed flesh around your entrance. "You really wanted this didn’t you?".
Your cheeks flush redder, if even possible. You'd be lying if you said the idea of having your back rubbed by Tim would end up in sex never crossed your mind. Besides, it wouldn’t have hurt to remove extra clothing just in case.
Tim removes his hand from beneath your clothing, but before you can whine out in protest, he takes a hold of the waistband and tugs down your shorts, the cold air hitting you in a flash. Tim couldn’t help but internally chuckle and admire the goosebumps along your newly exposed flesh.
"Cold?", He asks. "Don't worry baby, I'll warm you up real soon". He soothes and palms the tender flesh of your ass, warming you up and getting rid of the goosebumps as promised. Tim then brings his fingers up to his mouth, coating them with saliva, before bringing them near your entrance.
You inhale a sharp breath as he slowly slides one thick finger into your entrance and slowly begins to pump in and out, before adding a second digit. Your walls clench around his fingers, pulling a groan from the brunette, while they continue to slowly work in and out of your sex.
"You feel pretty warm to me. You sure you cold?". He teases. You can only respond with low muffled moans as his slick fingers spread you open.
His pace quickens and you cry out his name when his fingers hit that spot inside you that makes you fall apart. Your hips jerk back onto his hand and move against his fingers, following his pace. You moan out in pleasure as you chase your climax. You can feel the spring coil within your core and your walls trembling.
"That's it, baby, let go". Tim coaxes you while trying to hold back his own moans. "F-f-f-uck, you're doing so good".
His praise is the final straw before you feel the spring snap, and come undone around his fingers. Your muscles tense and your strangled moans are swallowed by your pillow as the waves of pleasure overtake you.
"There you go", He says while keeping a steady pace, letting you ride your climax. "Relax, beautiful".
Once you slowly came down from your high, Tim's fingers slide out of you. You cant help the small whimper you let out due to the sudden loss.
"Shh it's okay, baby, I got you". He soothes and carcasses your soft flesh.
You feel the bed shift and his body move away from your side. But before you can question him, a moan rips from your throat when you feel his tongue on your heat.
Using his hands to spread apart your legs, Tim laps at your entrance and hums against your sensitive flesh as he saviors your orgasm on his tongue, sending waves of pleasure to your core.
"Ready for more already?". He teases against your flesh. His tongue moves in slow flicking motions against your sex.
"P-please..." You breathe out through clenched teeth as you feel the pleasure between your legs.
"Please? Please what? Tell me what you need, beautiful". He says before delivering a deliciously long slow stroke.
"Tim ahh~!" You cry out his name and arch your back, bringing your heat closer to him.
"Alright, baby, I'll take care of it" He murmured. His body shifts once more and this time you look over your shoulder as Tim starts to remove his shirt revealing his softly sculpted torso. You admire the hair on your lover's strong chest for a few seconds before your eyes move lower and land on the large tent in his sleeping bottoms. You can barely make out the small damp precum spot by the tip of his erection. His eyes immediately shift to yours at the sound of your whimpering and catch your line of sight
"This what you want, baby?" he moves his hand to palm himself through the fabric of his clothes "You want my cock inside you?" He asks.
"Please, Tim", You cry "I need you". You push your ass up towards him. Begging for him to come closer and give you what you need.
"How can I deny my baby anything when they look so beautiful and so ready for me?", His words go straight to your core and pull a soft moan from your throat.
After what feels like painfully endless teasing, Tim finally moves closer to you. His hands tug down at his bottoms, freeing his cock from its confines, and kicks off the piece of clothing. You make a mental note to burn those darn sleeping pants later.
"I'm keeping my word and taking the best care of you" Tim groans and gives his length a few pumps. "So now, let's fix that pretty back of yours".
You turn your head back to grip your pillow as you feel Tim's strong arms take a hold of your hips, pushing your ass up and pulling your body closer to him with ease. You both let out a moan as his cock rubs against your entrance. Thanks to your previous release and Tim's saliva, you're nice and lubed up for his next move.
"You're so ready for me". He says and guides his cock closer to your sex. With one last stroke, he slowly sinks down into your opening. You let out another synced moan as his cock is swallowed by the warmth of your walls.
After a few seconds of adjusting, Tim pushes your back down with one hand, pressing your chest further against the mattress, and pulls your bottom half even closer up to him with the other, making you rest your weight on your knees rather than your thighs. You feel the muscles in your back deliciously stretch at his action and let out a loud moan. You can only pray that all the household members are still out doing their tasks.
"That feels good, baby?" He asks and gives one quick thrust, fully sinking his whole length into you.
"YES! ahh~ yes!". You cry at the sharp weave of pleasure and frantically shake your head at his question.
The sight of your pleasured distress makes Tim's cock throb deep inside you. His chest fills knowing that he's the one ridding you of pain and discomfort, the one making you feel good.
"Please, baby". you basically beg, breaking him out of his trance.
Not wanting to deny you pleasure, Tim rocks his hips against you and begins a slow but rhythmic pace as his cock deliciously stretches your walls. The room is filled with the erotic sound of skin slapping along with your combined cries of pleasure.
"Just ah~ look at you. So beautiful". Tim grunts between thrusts. You cry out louder when his cock slightly rubs against your core. Knowing just what you need, Tim picks up the pace and thrusts deeper into you. The familiar spring inside your core begins to coil once again. "I'll give you what you need, baby".
Tim's arm reaches for your pillow and slightly lifts up your bottom half by the waist, just enough to allow the pillow space to rest between the bed and your pelvis. Your cheek presses directly on the mattress and your back arches, even more, pushing your ass closer to him.
This new angle allows for the tip of his cock to hit your g-spot directly. He then places one hand on each side of your head, successfully caging your body beneath his broad frame and allowing him to anchor his powerful thrusts.
The pleasure becomes almost unbearable as Tim pounds into your sex at a brutal pace. You claw at your bedsheets and you cry out in pleasure, mostly consisting of Tim's name and incoherent words. Your walls flutter around Tim's cock and the coil threatens to snap.
"Go ahead, baby", Tim presses his head against your upper back and nuzzles into you, his sideburns and stubble scratch at your flesh. "Cum on my cock"
With a final few deep thrusts from his cock, you reach your peak with one last cry. Tim continues to plunge into your hole as you ride your second orgasm of the night. Your vision blurs and your body is encased in ecstasy that sends shivers all through you. You can feel his length twitch inside you and his pace becomes slightly reckless.
Tim's orgasm is not far behind. Your walls convulsing around his cock pull him further in, and with one final thrust, he becomes undone inside you. You feel his body tense above you and he buries his head in your neck. Moaning out your name along with a couple of praises and kisses as he fills your insides with his release.
Tim holds that position for a few minutes and once the both of you have regulated your breathing, he slowly pulls out of you and a soft moan escapes the both of you at the loss of connection. Tim gives a few kisses to your back, checking up on you before raising from the bed and fetching a damp rag to clean you up, littering feather-light kisses along your sensitive flesh. He then cleans himself up and puts on a different pair of sleeping pants.
Once you regain the strength to finally move, you pull Tim's shirt back down your body, and turn to face your partner. A love drunken smile is plastered along his handsome features as he takes in your relaxed form.
"You look so beautiful" You whisper with a lazy smile of your own and reach out towards him with grabby hands. He immediately complies and lays beside you, pulling you into his strong arms.
"Look whos talking", He groans into your hair and caresses your skin, "You're the one that looks like they can give an angel a run for their money".
You cuddle into each other and you lay your head against his chest, listening to the still softly playing music combined with his steadying heartbeat, before a small giggle escapes your lips.
"What is it?". Tim asks you with a chuckle that rumbles from his chest.
"My back doesn’t hurt anymore". You perk up with a giggle.
The both of you pause for a few silent seconds, before bursting into a fit of laughter.
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BONUS:
"No fair". A very grumpy Brian grumbles under his breath.
After complying and paying back his owed favor, the yellow hooded man tiredly sulks up the last few steps and onto the floor he shares with the rest of the proxies and heads towards his assigned room in the Slender mansion.
A series of muffled cries and groans make him stop in his tracks when he passes your room. Immediately knowing what that indicated, the proxy lets out a stream of curses.
"You fucking white-masked bastard!!" He growled before stomping off to his room.
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I may or may not have gone crazy on this one. The word count is crazy for such filthy writing.
Let me know if you have any ideas, suggestions, or requests.
