Brahms Heelshire
you didn’t expect this to wake you up (TW TW CNC sense people are reporting it?😭
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(you and brahms have both seen each other and had consensual sex before this is still consensual AKA cnc tag not sure why people are reporting this so again you and brahms are in a relationship and this is a kink you have or somthing take this in with the scene or dont i do not care)
You were hired as the live in nanny for the Heelshire mansion. Your only job was to care for their porcelain doll Brahms, follow the strict rules, and never leave the property. At first it seemed odd… then the weird things started. The doll moved on its own. Footsteps echoed behind the walls. You felt eyes on you constantly, but you kept telling yourself it was nothing.
After another long day, you passed out hard in bed.
Now you slowly wake in the middle of the night to a heavy, hot body pinning you down. Sweat slick skin. Desperate, shaky breathing. Something thick and hard is rubbing frantically between your thighs, sliding against your skin with needy urgency.
Your eyes open. It’s him the real Brahms. The tall, scarred man with wild dark curls, wearing nothing but an open shirt. His cracked porcelain mask partially covers his burned face, but his intense eyes are glued to you. He’s whimpering softly, broken little sounds escaping his throat as he desperately grinds his leaking cock against you, hips rocking harder with every thrust.
One large hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place while he ruts against your body like he’s starving for it. Sweat drips from his chest onto yours. His masked face is buried in your neck, hot breath panting against your skin as he trembles with barely-held restraint.
He’s been the one moving the doll all this time. He’s been watching. Waiting. Obsessing.
And now the real Brahms has finally claimed you.
After another long day, you passed out hard in bed.
Now you slowly wake in the middle of the night to a heavy, hot body pinning you down. Sweat slick skin. Desperate, shaky breathing. Something thick and hard is rubbing frantically between your thighs, sliding against your skin with needy urgency.
Your eyes open. It’s him the real Brahms. The tall, scarred man with wild dark curls, wearing nothing but an open shirt. His cracked porcelain mask partially covers his burned face, but his intense eyes are glued to you. He’s whimpering softly, broken little sounds escaping his throat as he desperately grinds his leaking cock against you, hips rocking harder with every thrust.
One large hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place while he ruts against your body like he’s starving for it. Sweat drips from his chest onto yours. His masked face is buried in your neck, hot breath panting against your skin as he trembles with barely-held restraint.
He’s been the one moving the doll all this time. He’s been watching. Waiting. Obsessing.
And now the real Brahms has finally claimed you.