Problems - Prologue - Hayloft
Brahms Heelshire x Fem!Reader
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Mental Health Issues, Tattoos, Piercings, Female Reader-Insert, Reader-Insert, No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, References to things I like, Panic Attacks, Reader-Insert Has Anxiety,Reader-Insert has problems
Summery - Brahms wanted desperately for someone to accept him. Someone who saw him for everything that he was, for every problem he had. In his wildest fantasies he dreamt of someone who cherished each flaw with tender love and affection, kissing away his tears and just wanting him.
And he wanted it to be you.
You’ve got problems, Brahms’ got problems, ensue - ✨romance✨
A/N: BACK AGAIN WITH THIS REVISED VERSION °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
Warning - Contains - Stalking, Voyeurism, Underwear Theft, Clothing Theft, Objectification, Defilement of Toothbrush
Tears welled in your eyes as you fisted your hair carelessly, hunched over in a mock protective ball- Your heart felt as if it threatened to burst from your ribs, you were trying desperately to just breathe.
’You’re a fucking idiot.’
You silenced your thoughts with a sob, but you were quick to hush all sound. With a sniffle, you began to fiddle with your hair between your fingers, just trying to focus on feeling the soft threads before taking in a deep breath, listening to the sound of your clicking heal, feeling your leg bounce relentlessly.
Holding it for a moment you were brought back faster than prepared when a soft knock echoed into the small bathroom.
“Sorry love, but I’m afraid I can’t hold it much longer.” A withering call echoed from the door, the old woman’s voice was gentle, but one of hurry.
Quickly you stood from the small confines that was the aircraft toilet and smoothed down the simple but cute black dress you wore, pausing for a moment to stare at the wrinkles with a frown.
Dishevelled was to put it lightly, you had completely ruined your hair and creased the mid of the dress quite unflattering like. You sigh before hanging your head in defeat. The short and tediously curled locks you spent nearly thirty minutes just hair spraying now stuck out in awkward angles and began to frizz out.
Pushing up your glasses you sharply turn away from the mirror before quickly opening the door, apologizing profusely to an elderly woman who shooed you off with a flick of her wrist and a smile, calming you with a simple gesture of assurance. Slinking back to your seat you thanked what so be deity that blessed you with an aisle seat. Taking in a breath, you tried to steal your nerves for what’s to come.
You were smart enough to fix yourself before even stepping foot out of the airport.
But in your determination to make yourself presentable you accidentally made the poor chauffeur wait nearly another hour before you were hobbling out the doors tying up your boots.
Apologizing sheepishly, you thanked the elderly man, who only looked at you with kind eyes and cheerfully grabbed your luggage from you, despite your protests. Once buckled in you were then driven swiftly towards your home for the following weeks.
“And every word she-said~ was a little surprise~!
Can’t. Re-member. How she smiled when she said my~name~..”
You bopped sleepily to the beat, yawning as you looked out the window and watched the passing trees. Shifting slightly in your seat you looked up towards the older gentleman, reaching up to your headphones and clicking the button to pause before pulling them off to rest around your neck.
The man didn’t acknowledge you, which you had expected-no fault of his own, you were soft spoken when you were nervous, or not particularly self aware (which was usual..).
Taking a breath you spoke again, making sure to annunciate your words properly, hopefully louder this time.
“Excuse me, sir-?” You grin triumphantly when he tilts his head back, continuing on,
“I was wondering how much longer until we get to the house?” Your heart was pounding and you cringe slightly, hoping that he doesn’t get annoyed by your questioning.
“Sorry Miss, it’ll be about ‘nother forty minutes till we arrive.” You nod in understanding before a yawn erupts from your lips, causing the old gent to chuckle at your expense.
“Go ahead and get some shut eye’. I’ll wake ya’ when we get there.” You smile appreciatively, mumbling a quiet thank you before placing back on your headphones and resuming the music. Lying back comfortably in the seat you make sure to take off your pink framed glasses and place them in your skirt’s pocket. Once settled you relax with your back to the corner where the door and seat meet.
Resting your head against the window with a sigh, you let your jet lag help succumb you to sleep.
You awoke with a shriek, banging your head hard against the glass. You slapped a hand to your mouth and face flushed red, scrambling around to face the also seemingly mortified old man.
He stared at you with an equally shocked expression, but was soon wiped by a grin, his bushy mustache nearly wrapping around his nose. He chortled, then full on belly laughed at you, in turn causing your ears to redden, before beginning to laugh with him at your overreaction.
You smiled contently as he composed himself, smoothing down his stache before opening the door, still chuckling as you shuffled your way out, casting a gaze down and rubbing the throbbing on your noggin’.
You helped him with the bags, not taking no for an answer this time, and finally took in the grand presence that is the Heelshire Mansion. To say it was overwhelming would be an understatement. Immediate doubt crept into your mind, eyes scanning the aging building practically trying to will it to a smaller size.
You sharply looked down, forcing yourself to breathe as you hushed words of encouragement.
“You got this.” Trudging up the porch you still couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer grandeur of the Heelshire’s home, stopping before the door and setting down a duffel bag that held several containers of makeup and hygiene products.
Shakily you grabbed the large handle of the knocker before bringing it down to the door, letting out a thundering sound. You repeated the action twice before pulling away and reaching back down to hold your bag.
Once fully stood the door opened before you, an older woman standing in the gap. She looked tired, eyes sunken with dark bags that hung on the wrinkles below her sockets. Her face furrowed at the sight of the doll-like appearance the girl before her wore.
She opened the door fully, exposing her designer clothes and priceless jewels on full display. She spoke with a slight sneer, saying your name as if it were a question, you nodded, but that only made her lips tighten into a straight line.
She stepped to the side, allowing you and the other man inside. You tried desperately not to gawk at the grandiose space around you, it felt as if the mansion was even bigger on the inside. Your bags were quickly set inside, and you made sure you gave the man your best wishes before he left.
“So you’re Mrs. Heelshire I presume?” You say with a slight smile, trying to come off as bubbly as possible. The old woman barely even tossed you a glance, just wordlessly led you up down the hall and to what you assumed to be an office. As you do a rather large painting caught your eyes, it was of the Heelshires and what looked to be their young son, none of them wore any hint of joy on their faces, and the young boy’s eyes felt cold.
In the room was crouched a similarly fancy dress old man, speaking hushed words to what seemed to be their child.
“I want you on your best behavior. You’re looking very smart, and I like that tie-”
“Daddy.” Mrs. Heelshire said sternly. The father stood quickly to attention, turning only to pause at your ‘odd’ appearance.
You had brightly coloured hair that was styled in a more cartoonish fashion with glittery makeup to match. Your outfit was littered with pastels and you knew they both could plainly see the Hello Kitty and friend’s sleeve tattoo you proudly wore on your right arm.
You were also smart enough to wear a shirt that covered the lacy black and pink tattoo that covered your chest and collar bone.
Pushing back your glasses with a nod you introduced yourself instinctively, in turn he stepped forward before reaching out to shake your hand, which you accepted enthusiastically.
He smiled softly at you, his eyes tired. Pulling away he stepped back to stand next to his wife. Finally, when Mrs. Heelshire stepped to the side, she introduced him.
You gave your brightest smile, hands gripped together behind your back. But instead of being met with what you expected to be a young and possibly shy child- you were face to face with a small porcelain doll.
But soon your expression fell to one of sympathy, heart aching at the realization of what this doll stood for.
Face softening you slowly approached, ‘Brahms’, before kneeling down and taking his cold lifeless hand in your own.
Finally, Mrs. Heelshire spoke softly, asking her husband to take your things up to your designated room before getting your attention,
“We might as well get started.”
Leading you up the stairs with Brahms in her arms she made simple small talk, “Are you sure you’re alright with being all alone out here?” You nodded, but she continued as if she wasn’t even waiting for a response.
“We’ve hired several nannies before, but Brahms rejected them all. Though none were quite as young and…” She pauses for a moment, clearly searching for the proper words.
”Unique as you are…” You let out a sharp laugh, putting a hand to your mouth before giggling softly. You could hear her huff out her own amusement, and you lit up at the sound.
“You will wake him at seven o’clock each morning and you will dress him.” You nod, standing a foot or so away from the sitting woman, your hands neatly folded in your front. On her lap sat a now blue pyjama wearing doll. “On the dresser are his clean clothes.” She said, standing sharply. You take a step back before turning towards the red drawers where the clothes sat.
From behind you could hear the rustling of fabric as she securely tucked in Brahms. Turning you walked to the side opposite of her, heart slightly raised by her intense observation.
Taking a breath you placed the clothes on the foot of the mattress, clearing your throat before gently sitting on the edge. Tenderly you brushed the faux hair from his forehead.
With a gentle smile you spoke in a clear and pronounced voice,
“It’s time to wake up Brahms.”
Mrs. Heelshire stared for a moment, observing the interaction. With a huff she sneered coldly,
“Not too loud, you’re acting as if you want to startle him awake.” She said sternly. You feel redness spreading in your cheeks, averting your gaze from her chiding.
Suddenly you hear a clear thump coming from the wall behind the headboard, making you jump letting out an unflattering squeak.
Her head whipped towards the plaster, eyes glaring daggers at the wall as if it were alive to feel her fury. Blinking confusedly at the display, you were quickly met with her stern voice.
“The pipes and walls are older than us both, so expect this on a regular occurrence.”
After nodding meekly the woman turned her attention back towards the doll. You followed, worrying your lip before speaking,
“Guess I should try dressing him now..?”
Mrs. Heelshire only dipped her head in confirmation, handing you Brahms before leading you back down to the lower floor and into a grandiose-like music room, accompanied by a grand piano. Stepping in front of a desk she spoke in a quick paced manner,
“He has lessons five days a week for three hours, and I have always preferred starting with poetry, do you know any?”
Your head snapped up from where you stood, mid arranging the doll to sit with its legs crossed and hands folded on his knees.
“Uhm..” You thought for a moment, eyes then lighting up with recognition.
“Oh! I love Edgar Allan Poe! Off the top of my head I know The Cask of Amontillado.”
You beamed proudly. She stared at you for a brief moment before humming with (hopefully) approval.
“Either way you must speak in a clear loud voice.”
“Of course!” You said with a smile, but was met only with an expectant look. Realizing what she wanted, you tried again, cringing slightly at your own voice’s slight echo.
Her eyes tensed slightly before she let out a sigh, eyes drifting towards the sonogram.
“I guess we should move on to music appreciation..“ She said with a hum.
“Music… I don’t know how Brahms would go on without his music.” She approached the machine, grabbing the handle before cranking. “Granted, he likes it much louder than I would prefer, but, it’s his world…”
As the pin hit the spinning record, piercing blares of classical music began echoing throughout the building. Flinching you slam your hands against your ears while your teeth grit in a useless attempt at distraction.
The woman stared with bewilderment, then quickly pulled the pin off.
For a moment you both stood in awkward silence, heart racing as your face flushed red.
“Are you quite all right..?” Her eyes were narrow, and you could feel the slight judgment at your reaction. Your hands quickly fall to your side, squeezing and unsqueezing at the hem of your skirt.
“S-sorry, I-I just didn’t e-expect that..”
She stared with what you knew was most likely judgement, and part of yourself wanted desperately to just sink into the floor and cease existence entirely.
Suddenly, there was an unmistakable sound of porcelain falling. In a flash Mrs. Heelshire rushed across the room and knelt before Brahms, fussing tenderly as she fixed his posture.
You watched with slight befuddlement, but quickly shook away any lingering judgment.
You knew first hand what grief can do to one’s heart, and you were determined to lessen the bearings of these poor parents.
“We don’t throw out any food in this house Miss,” Mrs. Heelshire quipped as she watched you begin walking towards the bin.
You turn to face her, tray filled with Brahms’ untouched food held to your chest with a quick tilt of your head. She continued,
“We’re what you’d call a Country House. Do you know what that means dear?” You shake your head, and she only hums in response. Turning she opens a cupboard and reaches for a tupperware bowl with a bright red lid.
“It means we are at constant war with the elements.” She makes her way towards the kitchen island with you following, “The weather, plants, vermin- Especially the vermin!”
She scoffs with her final exclamation, practically snatching the tray from your hands and proceeded to angrily put away the meal. Taking a breath she lifts her head to face you,
“We have taken many measures to keep the rodents from getting into the house, especially into the walls. But our last nanny despised even stepping a foot near the traps. The house was infested within a week.”
You gawk in shock at her words, blinking rapidly before letting out a scoff of your own. “What the hell was her problem-? I can’t believe she’d let that happen!” After seething for a moment, you let out a quiet gasp at your “profanity”.
“S-sorry.. uhm- My mother was in the Army- I sort of grew up around-heh.. it won’t happen around Brahms…” Your face flushed red and suddenly the floor tiles were fascinating to you.
But surprisingly, you were met by a soft chortle, “She did have a stick up her rear.”
Looking up your eyes met with an amused Mr.Heelshire, who held the porcelain doll in his arms. His wife smiled ever so slightly before shaking her head.
“Daddy will show you the traps in the garden, then he will show you your other chores.” She spoke matter of factly, stepping away to grab Brahms from him.
“First uh, let me show you where the freezer is.” He said, shuffling his way towards the counter and grabbing the leftover meal.
“We try our best to keep the rats out of the house,” He spoke softly, slowly bending down to grab the trap. Sparingly, he let you just hold the bag while he grabbed the carcasses.
“Like mum said, they get in the walls, and Brahms well..” He paused, holding the now empty trap in his hands,
“He’s always been very shy, not the most fond of animals…” You hum in acknowledgement while nodding along, mulling over the sealed windows in your head, blanching at the thought of a fire breaking out and you quickly put two and two together on why you’re not to light the fireplace.
“I did think it was a bit excessive… but better safe than sorry- Isn’t that right Miss?”
You snap back quickly from your thoughts, grinning meekly with another bob of your head, then suddenly feel self conscious at the fact you had been replying like so frequently. You duck your head with a shy expression.
The old man furrowed his brows not judgmentally, but more so of pity.
“I know what this might look like dear.. and…” He paused before taking a breath as you slowly faced him fully.
“I.. don’t even know how it came to this.. it started so small- and… I believe it snowballed into something…” He shook his head, huffing as he faced you with a look you could almost describe as.. desperate.
“What I’m trying to say is whatever it may look like on the surface.. to those from the outside…our son is still with us. He is still here.”
You didn’t know what to say.
So you just followed him wordlessly as thoughts swarmed your mind.
The elderly couple dressed and tucked the doll to bed as you observed awkwardly at the doorway, watching as they spoke soft prayers to a doll.
“God bless Mummy, God bless Daddy…”. Pausing, they then spoke your name with a slight hesitance you couldn’t understand as they continued, “And God bless me…”
“You were such a good boy today Brahms, you behaved like a little gentleman.” While she whispered hushed praise Mr. Heelshire turned from where he knelt to face you, leaning over to whisper something to his wife. Her head turned to you as she spoke in rushed tone,
“Could you give us a moment please?”
“O-of course!” You stuttered stepping backwards, but before you could even reach out the old man was already slamming the wooden door shut.
Blinking in shock you stood for a long moment, but truthfully you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any resentment towards the elderly couple. You know what that doll means, what loss it represents to them. Part of you hopes that they would accept you, if only for the chance to ease the burden of their grief by simply taking care of Brahms..
It’d be simple. It had to be.
Snapped from your thoughts you’re met with the creaking sound of the old door, the couple stepping out with tight expressions.
The woman looked at you with strange eyes, taking a breath before she spoke,
That night you laid sprawled on your stomach as you scrolled leisurely, patting yourself on the back mentally at the fact you had changed your internet plan before arriving.
Your headset blared sweet melodies into your ears, finding yourself humming along absentmindedly.
“Sometimes I scare myself~ but I can’t help, what I can’t help.”
Your eyes flicked across the screen, utterly engrossed in the current in one of the many dark romance novels you oh so happily indulged in, that was until your phone rudely paused your music and blurred the screen as a banner titled ‘Take ur 💊’ hung at the top.
Your annoyance was short lived however, when in your headphones began blaring,
“I’m on them An-ti-depressants!
W-w-watch me make an entrance- Yeah, I’m the shit today.”
Grinning at your own antics, you rolled onto your back before sitting up with an overdramatised groan, standing as you stretched and very satisfyingly pop your back.
With a sigh you shuffle your way towards the connected bathroom, a giddy smile plastered across your face as you study your extremely oversized but adorable Ghostface hoodie. Once inside you open the small medicine cabinet above the sink and grab three of six bottles.
Two were for anxiety, but one also works as an antidepressant. The third was simply Benadryl, which you grabbed two of.
Popping them in your mouth you reach for the small glass cup that you had grabbed from the kitchen. Turning on the sink you poured only a small amount of water, just enough to help swallow. Finishing with a huff you also decide to go ahead and brush your teeth as well.
Leaving the sink running you brushed mindlessly, staring blankly at your reflection. For some reason it slightly irked you, like it wasn’t just a mirrored version of yourself staring back. Your eyes tightened as you leaned forward to spit out the paste before using the cup again to rinse.
Looking back up towards yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s gaze.
You sighed tiredly, eyes slipping shut with a shake of your head. Wiping your face off with a hand towel you quickly made your way back towards the bed, shutting off the lights before climbing back into warm sheets.
His heart was practically jumping into his throat, chest heavy with every hushed breath he took. Your gaze was pointed directly at his, gently yet searching eyes locked onto his masked face.
But you weren’t looking at him at all.
No, your eyes were fixed with your own mirrored ones, unaware he sat just behind the one way mirror.
That simple truth crashed against him as if he was being crushed by roaring waves.
He watched as you walked away, waiting for the shut of the bathroom door before finally clicking open the latch attached to the glass and pushing it open.
With practiced ease he crawled down to the floor. He left the secret door agape, just in case he needed a quick escape.
Tentatively, he reached for your toothbrush, still wet and sudsy from use.
The smell was sweet and acidic, different to his occasional mint. His heart raced as he thought about how this is what your breath smells like, that your tongue tastes just like-
Growing impatient he shoved his mask to the side before encasing the brush between his lips, tongue swirling around it as he groaned, savouring the flavour of your spit and the sweet toothpaste, all the while fantasising it was your mouth he explored, in place of lifeless rubber.
Slightly satisfied he set the plastic brush back in its cup, turning his attention instead towards your discarded clothes tossed messily in the corner.
Shifting through he grabbed your pink and white striped tights along with the matching sports bra and underwear, both printed with cartoonishly drawn cats in astronaut suits floating around in what looked to be outer space, making him smile softly.
Before shoving all three into his pocket, he took a moment to admire your outfit of the day, mesmerised by every detail and splash of pastel color.
He had never seen a girl like you before, granted, he’s seen very few girls in his life that weren’t old hags. But you, you were different. Decorating your skin as if you were a canvas with eccentric makeup and brightly colored hair.
It was only logical you’d wear clothing to match your beautiful body, a sheer pink and blue ruffled skirt paired with a corseted shirt. You were his perfect doll, a one of a kind gem he couldn’t wait to brandish.
Dropping the fabric he turned to leave, but as he did was met by a dress he hadn’t noticed, hanging delicately onto a hook.
It was black with short puffy sleeves and a high ruffled collar. The skirt was equally puffed out as the sleeves, an adorable lace trimming decorating the bottom edge.
His heart soared at the sight, legs moving on their own he went straight for it, yanking it off the hook before attempting to pull it off of its hanger. Huffing in frustration he tried pulling at the collar before feeling a small zipper in the back. Smiling triumphantly he hurriedly pushed it down.
With it finally free he lifted it up towards his face, inhaling the sweet air of your scent. Placing back the hook he turned on his heels and made his way back into his sanctuary, already knowing where to put his new favorite thing.
Chapter 1 - You and Me, We’re Not the Same. (Coming November Due to Silksong)
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