Slasher X Reader Oneshots | Book 1

45. Brahms X Reader

          ✨Requested by jack_obscure✨
                             • • • • •

  It was the middle of the night when you were woken up by a hand on your shoulder. It took a moment for the fog to clear from your sleepy mind before you realized it was Brahms. He often slept in the same bed as you, liking to hold you or be held while he went to sleep. You reached over to the bedside table and switched on the lamp.

"What's going on, Brahms?" You asked.

  "I don't feel good."

  You were surprised to hear him speak in his normal register, rather than octaves higher to sound like a child. There was a terrible hoarseness to his voice, one not caused from sleeping.

You turned over to properly face him, seeing that his mask was still on his face. His dark eyes traveled over to you listlessly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his chest. You pressed the back of your hand around his neck, feeling how hot he was.

  "You're burning up, honey," you said. "Let me grab you some medicine."

Brahms made a noise, something akin to a whimper. He weakly reached out for you and you grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

"I'll be quick," you promised.

You got out of bed and, true to your word, you tried to gather everything you thought you needed as fast as you could. You grabbed some medicine for his fever, plenty of water to drink, and a damp cloth for some immediate temperature relief.

You returned to the bedroom, carefully setting the things down on the bedside table. You crawled back onto the bed with Brahms, his gaze following you tiredly.

"Can I take your mask off?" You asked gently. "It will probably help you feel better."

  His resolve thoroughly sapped, Brahms didn't have the strength to argue against you. He nodded once and laid still while you carefully pulled the porcelain mask from his face and set it aside.

You had rarely seen Brahms without his mask, even after all this time, so seeing more than just his eyes was always slightly jarring. You were so used to the porcelain visage of the doll replacing his face, the scars from the fire and his patchy beard were strangely unfamiliar.

You retrieved the cloth you had wet and lightly pressed it around Brahms' face, hoping to cool him down somewhat. Brahms' eyes drifted shut contentedly as he let out a sigh. You tried to focus on the areas of his face that the flames had left untouched, knowing he'd be able to feel it better.

You dragged the cloth down his neck and to the area of his chest his shirt left exposed. You continued for a while more before you stopped and put it back on the bedside table. You took the bottle of Tylenol and a bottle of water. Brahms had opened his eyes once again.

"Here, let's get some medicine in you so you can start feeling better," you said. "Can you sit up by yourself?"

Brahms looked at you for a moment before he shook his head no in a childish manner. You only smiled and took his hands in yours, helping to pull him up. It took some effort on your part, but even sick, Brahms was a lot stronger than he looked.

Now that he was sitting up, you noticed he was still wearing his knitted cardigan for some reason. Silently, he let you pull it from his form and set it aside with the mask, leaving him only in his undershirt. You offered him the Tylenol and the water, which he took with little coaxing. It seemed Brahms was just as eager to feel better as you were.

As you returned the items to the bedside table, you felt a little tug on your sleeve. You looked over and Brahms was staring at you expectantly.

  "What's up, sweetheart?"

  "Hold me?" He asked quietly.

  You smiled warmly at him. "Of course."

  You climbed back under the covers and Brahms was quick to snuggle against you. He shimmied down in the bed until his head was level with your chest. You knew he liked it when he was able to hear your heartbeat, especially when he didn't feel well. He was quick to wrap an arm around your hips and you returned the favour by threading your fingers through his hair so you could stroke through his dark curls.

"You're not too hot like this, are you?" You asked once he was settled.

"No," was all he said in response.

You suspected Brahms didn't like the sound of his own voice, the way it was supposed to sound, so he was limiting his words. He probably would until his throat could sustain the high register he usually confined it to, to keep up the facade he was always so desperately trying to hold together.

You were more than happy to play along, at least for tonight. Tonight, Brahms was just a sick boy who needed someone to care for him. You would gladly play the role for as long as he needed you to, until he felt okay again.

As you continued to pet his hair, you could hear as his breathing grew slower, as his arm became heavy on your body. You smiled, knowing your Brahms was falling asleep. You were careful not to move, not wanting to disturb him. You closed your eyes and felt yourself similarly drifting off as you held him close. You hoped a good sleep would be enough for Brahms to kick whatever bug had gotten into his system. If he didn't feel any better in the morning though, you knew you'd be more than willing to nurse him back to health.

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wow another update so fast!

we gettin this bread

i don't know if i'm entirely happy with how this one turned out?? but it's one of those cases where the words just came out like this and i don't know how to change it so that i was happier with it

idk does that make any sense to you guys xD

anyway i hope you guys still enjoyed it! any feedback is greatly appreciated☺️