#this is terrible

Summary: Brahms has a hot dream about you and makes it reality... without your knowledge

Notes: Brahms is a touchy freak, he cums instantly inside reader, he doesn't pull out

You'd kissed him and gone right off to bed. That was hours ago, now. By now Brahms knew you were dead asleep in your room, probably wearing just a shirt and underwear... probably vulnerable and unaware.

He tried to shake the thought.

It wouldn't go.

He'd been awake for about 15 minutes now. At first, he was too shocked by the dream he had to even do anything except lie there. So he lay there, feeling antsy and hot from his dream. He knew he should've stayed in bed, but he couldn't help it. It's now like you were strict about it, but he knows that's what he should've done. Stayed in bed and went back to sleep.

Now he grabbed his mask from the nightstand, slipped it on and got out of bed. He headed for your room. The dream that had woken him up so antsy had been one about you. One where he was with you. With you in your bed, gently touching you and holding you, kissing you, feeling you, fucking you. It felt so real that he almost expected to wake up in your bed the morning after.

There was no way he was falling asleep again after that dream. Brahms knew he should try to, so he lay there anxiously for 15 minutes, feeling like he needed to move. He wanted to feel the way he did in his dream again, even if it was a distant memory now as it faded from his mind. It was too late for you to still be awake for sure. That's why he tried to convince himself that he should go back to sleep, that there was nothing you could do about him having a dream anyway, that there was no way you'd let him make his dream reality.

But, being the sickly desperate man he was, his neediness got the best of him. The need to see you. The need to feel you. The need to fuck you. It was the middle of the night, but he didn't care. He crept down the halls, the floorboards not letting out a single creak under his weight. Not the way they would if anyone else were to walk the halls. No, he was dead silent, even knowing how to navigate the corners and halls in the dark, labyrinthine manor. That's what he'd gained from being confined within these walls his whole life, a miracle he hadn't gone insane. More insane... anyway.

Brahms reached your door and silently pushed it open, only a bit. He saw your sleeping figure and a shiver tore through him, but standing in the doorway wasn't enough. He crept into the room, quietly closing the door behind him as if there were anyone else in the mansion to impose on his late-night stalking.

He stood at the side of the bed, lustful eyes savoring every curve and contour of your body, every rise of your chest with breaths that fell from your perfect lips, every shift your body made as the sheets fell scantily over you. And that was his plan, stand there and watch you with a rock hard cock. He didn't really know what else he could do... but this wasn't helping anything.

He reached his hand down into his pants, gripping his stiff cock and slowly stroking it using the pre he'd leaked just at the sight of you as lube. He breathed roughly in pants under his mask, trying to stay quiet enough not to wake you. He couldn't help but get closer, imagine that his hand was yours... anything of yours. But that was no good. Your skin wasn't rough like his, and your touch wasn't shaky and unsure. He needed you for real.

He reached his free hand out, pulling the sheets away from you fully to see your body clad in an old oversized band shirt and underwear. He shakily put his free hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles into it, stroking it up and down. He took his hand, now sticky with precum, away from his cock and latched it onto the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers; only enough to let his cock fall free. Brahms took both hands to your thighs, suppressing a whimper at just the feel of your skin.

You stirred slightly and he quickly pulled both hands away, taking a quiet step back like that would prevent you from waking. He stood there for a few moments, watching you. When he concluded that you wouldn't move anymore he hooked his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up and spreading them. He knew this was a terrible idea but his brain was clouded with lust and thoughts of you. And now you were close enough to touch... close enough that he was touching you.

He put one knee up first then the other, losing to kneel in front of you on your bed. The whole time he was cautiously quiet, trying not to wake you. He let your legs gently drop on his shoulders, leaning down to lay his head against your collarbones for a moment with one hand resting on your chest. His breath came in pants, his heart pounding. He was so close to you that he couldn't hold back anymore. He didn't care about being quiet or not waking you. He wanted you. Wanted you bad and wanted you now.

He leaned back up, pulling away to see your eyes starting to flutter open. He panicked and made just about the stupidest decision he could. Brahms held you down by one shoulder, even though you weren't fighting him, and tried to push into you. He promptly realized your underwear blocked his entrance so he pushed them to the side with his free hand and pushed into you as hard as he could. Both you and he let out gasps. He didn't anticipate that you would feel this good. Nothing felt this good.

You had woken up by the time he tried to push into you the first time, but you didn't fight. Your eyes fluttered open as you came to and you began to realize your predicament. Your legs in his shoulders, him holding you down and frantically trying to fuck you. You couldn't even comprehend that, only having woken up moments ago. "Brahms?? Brahms, what are you doing?" you began to mumble but were abruptly cut off by him ramming his rock hard cock into you.

You let out a gasp and tried to speak again but were quickly interrupted by another wetter, warmer feeling and your name being yelped out on Brahms' side. It took your mind a moment to realize what had just happened... he came inside you. He thrusted twice and came inside you. He didn't pull out, but he collapsed onto your chest and grasped you tightly, still panting roughly and shaking slightly.

Brahms heard you try to ask what he was doing, but it sounded distant. All that was on his mind was the feeling of you. Apparently, it was on his mind too much because after shoving it in you he very quickly tried to thrust, got around to it twice, and then had his orgasm tear through him. He whined quietly and then pushed into you as hard as possible, crying out your name and releasing inside you. He didn't pull out, he didn't realize he was supposed to. All he wanted was closeness, and that felt close. He hoped you weren't mad, so he simply cuddled up to you to await what you had to say.

You leaned down and buried your face in his hair, smelling his musky, sweaty, desperate scent. You stroked his hair with one hand and wrapped the other around his back. You figured he'd be back at this as soon as he could... maybe you'd actually get off on it too when that happened and not get woken up with surprises creampies. You sighed, no longer sleepy, and muttered "You really had to interrupt my sleep for this?"

"Sorry..."

"No, you aren't."

"No, I'm not."

And you stayed like that in the moment. It wasn't a shock to you that he wasn't sorry. He was a spoiled little brat and he thought everything he wanted already belonged to him just for that reason. You didn't mind too much... but you'd have to tell him to wake you next time.