#brahms the doll

[differentlovelover]

Overstimulation

Brahms Heelshire x reader

You walked over to your room and you decide to take a nap for the hour since you were done with Brahms and since you put him down for a nap.

You didn’t expect him to join you so soon. But you didn’t mind it either, he was the one to change his mind quite often. He cuddled behind you holding you close to close as he closed his eyes, his breath from his lips tickling your neck as you relaxed to his touch. “Y/n..” he mumbles gently as he pressed against you. “Yes Brahms?” You open your eyes “can we play” he frowns gently as he nuzzles against your neck “we haven’t in a while and I miss you” he pouts quietly.

Brahms can be very sassy at times..maybe all the time but you grown used to it now. Especially when he askes you a question he’s gonna get what he wants at the end. That’s why you were pinned under him as he thrusted his cock in and out of you quickly. Ofcourse this is what he meant by playing. What else is he talking about. You cried into the pillow as he grips your hips ramming his cock deeply into you not caring how much you tried to slow him down.

“B-baby” you gasped as you cried into the pillow, bharms looked at you and smiles “it’s okayy~ I’m going fast as I-I can momma” he whines gently as he thrusted deeper causing the bed to creak and the walls get knocked on every thrust. You grip the bed as you came on his cock. He looked down as he slaps your ass “bad bad” he shakes his head as he thrusts faster “I’m not done momma. You have to wait” he pouts as he pulls all the way out then flips you on your back then slams back in.

“B-Brahms!” You cry as you arch your back. He uses your shoulders as handles as he pushed you down on his hips then he thrust fastly. He looked at your face as he pants behind his mask. He wanted to kiss you, he pulled his mask up slightly and leans down kissing you deeply and sloppy. You moan against his lips as you grip his hair your legs hooked on his hips and your walls tightening again. It’s almost like he didn’t feel it because he still hasn’t came yet. “O-oh god I can’t take it no more” you cried as you look down at him going in and out of you. You came once again, now you felt doozy as you squeeze your thighs together. Your chest bounced as he thrusted up into you fastly, “p-please s-stop” you moan as you throw your head back shaking under him. He looked at you waiting for your word that you both agreed to be said if you couldn’t take it. He didn’t hear it so he kept going.

“M-momma gonna cum.~” he whines as he digs his head in your shoulder. “M-momma gonna cum hard” he whines louder as the bed shook more aggressively. You nod as you weakly lay there getting used like some doll. You didn’t mind though. You and bharms have overstimulated each other before. “G-god Brahms c-cum already” you cry softly. He whines as he thrusts got sloppy. He gasped as he pulls out then thrusted in his cum, he kept ramming his cock until there was no more cum. He pants as he grips the pillow next to your head. “I-I’m I’m all done momma” he whines out softly. You shook under him as you look up at him “‘m-m..m good boy b-bharms” you shake as you felt yourself doze off to sleep. Brahms looked down at you and shook you slightly “momma.” He seen that you was sleep as he sighs and just snuggles up to you with his cock still in you. He mumbles against your neck “thank you momma” he takes his mask off then nuzzles into your neck covering you both as he falls asleep with you.

[pedzs]

Two panel Brahms and Greta F•A•N•A•R•T 🥹

I don’t have anything to add, please enjoy✨

[neick-hitlz]

I'll be a good boy, I promise...

04/01/2024

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..." 

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you. 

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house." 

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder… 

He couldn't wait any longer. 

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again. 

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria. 

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!” 

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?" 

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look. 

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.  

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…" 

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command. 

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction. 

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…" 

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more. 

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms." 

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you. 

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good... 

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short. 

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more. 

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him. 

At last, you had become one. 

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you. 

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he! 

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes. 

He will be such a good boy for you.

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[calmcoldevening]

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

[arson-with-brahms]

As someone who is both…I’d let all of them hit

[cupids-scream-queen]

-> Brahms Heelshire x f!reader

-> Prompt: breeding

Warnings: breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it for the holiday season), blindfold, rough-ish sex, slapping, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, idk it's smut guys.

Summary: Planning for Christmas at the Heelshire's required a lot of patience, decorations, and money. When you asked Brahms what he wanted for Christmas, the answer he gave wasn't one you were expecting.

Christmas was coming, and there was many things to do. You decided to decorate the manor, after all, you weren't sure how much holiday cheer Brahms was used to getting.

The Christmas decorations were beautiful, the house big enough for you to get one of those ridiculously huge trees you couldn't get back at home. Decorated with beautiful, twinkling bulbs and strands of incandescent lights, it was truly a sight to behold.

"Brahms? What would you like for Christmas?" You were sitting on the couch, knitting a new cardigan to replace his old one. He was resting on your lap, the yarn occasionally touching the porcelain mask.

"I don't know," He replied, his eyes staring up at you. "What could I have?"

"Oh, like clothing, candy, toys…" You trailed off, hoping he'd take the hint and pick something usual.

"A baby," He looked at you, his gaze unwavering as you looked at him, trying to process what he just said. A baby?

"Like, a human baby? Or a puppy…?"

"Human. Yours," He touched your stomach, confirming that that was where he wanted the baby to come from. You.

"Brahms, I can't just pop out a baby…there's certain--activities--you've got to do beforehand," He shrugged, unbothered.

"I know. We'll do them." It wasn't a question, and you weren't sure how to handle the situation. Why did this man want a child?

"Are you sure that's what you want?" You asked, and he nodded, very sure of himself.

"Let's get started," He sprung out of your lap, taking you knitting out of your hands as he roughly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, something that was becoming increasingly common in your relationship.

"Brahms, shouldn't we--"

"You said I could have anything," He threw you onto your mattress, already climbing over you to grab the black silk blindfold you kept on your nightstand for times like these. "And this is what I want."

He slipped the blindfold over you, pressing a finger to your lips, silencing whatever sentence you were trying to say. He wasn't in the mood for games, or your protests, he simply wanted to have a baby. And, to him, you were the perfect person to provide that. Your pussy was already wet, and he smirked as he slipped a large hand down, touching it, providing you with friction you so desperately craved.

"Brahms--"

"Shh," He roughly handled your pussy, his fingers rubbing up against your clit as you struggled to take your pants off. He wasn't going to let you, not this easily.

He started to take your shirt off, delicately making sure not the remove the blindfold. He delicately removed your pants, your body naked save for your undergarments. Your bra was red, your soaked panties green--it was like you were taunting him with the idea of what he wanted.

He slipped his mask off, you could tell by the noise it made as he set it down on the table. His rough hands started to trail along your body, occasionally a wet kiss would show up somewhere.

"You're taunting," He kissed you on the lips, his facial hair tickling your nose as he deepened the kiss. His hands went to unclasping your bra, throwing it over his shoulder and immediately grasping your tits with his hands. Rubbing his fingers over the nipple, he got the sensitive bud to perk up, and he started to kiss his way down to your breast.

You moaned as he licked your nipple, his left hand going to grope your other breast and his right hand circling your clit. You moaned as he slipped one finger in, and then another, as he started to scissor your pussy as he continued to lick and suck on your tits. Leaving bite marks, sucking hickies into your skin, everything he could do to mark you as his, he did.

He gave your nipple one last suck before he licked from your breast down to your pussy, enjoying you squirming underneath him. His fingers were moving faster, making you gasp and moan his name, your fingers running through his hair.

"Ready?"

"Y-Yes," You gasped out, your body aching for more than just his touch. You needed him, all of him, and you were going to get it, and you knew he'd give it to you. He needed you just as much--he needed to be inside of you.

He laughed, darkly, pulling his fingers out of you. Gathering the slick from in between your folds, he slathered it on his cock, and licked the excess off his fingers. He then shoved his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself as he lined himself up with your cunt and pushed in, stretching you.

"Ah-Brahms," You moaned around his fingers, his cock warm and filling you up in the most wonderful way. He pet your face, his hands warm and rough and fulfilling.

He smiled to himself, his dick all the way in your soft, warm pussy. He started slowly, thrusting carefully, his dick sliding in and out tantalizingly, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot. The soft, spongy walls of your pussy clenching around his cock.

"Feel s-so good," You moaned, your cunt coated in precum, your slick all over the sheets. Brahms only grunted in response, strening himself to not break you. "N-Need m-more..."

That was what Brahms needed, and he suddenly dug his hands into your hips, leaving marks in the shape of his fingerprints. He thrusted into you roughly, his dick reaching even farther into your pussy. You arched your back, Brahms shifting his hands so that they cupped your back, forcing your legs to go on either side of his shoulders. He was balls deep, his groans every time he thrust in you were heavenly.

"You're mine," Brahms grunted, and you moaned his name, confirming that you were his. He pulled out of you almost completely, before slamming his dick farther into your pussy, resulting in you to scream out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Yes, Brahms, I'm y-yours," You whimpered, and Brahms slapped your tits harshly, before slamming into you again. He was rough, his thrusts no longer calculated, he was chasing his high and you knew it.

"I want you to have my babies, I need you to fucking be mine," Brahms was leaving marks all over your body--handprints, fingerprints, bruises, bite marks--all of it, marking you with a cacophony of colors, various shapes and sizes. You were his, you were to be marked as his, and you were to bare his children.

"I-I will," You gasped, and Brahms slapped your face again, marking you with a red handprint. You didn't care, his roughness was only making him come closer and closer to orgasm.

"I want to see you pregnant," Brahms groaned, pushing himself farther into you, your pussy clenching around his thick length. "I need you to have my baby."

"G-God, yes, Brahms," You called out, your hands gripping him, leaving tiny crescents of your fingernails. The pain only made him more aroused, his dick moving faster, his thrusts more sloppy as he felt himself getting closer. Your pussy clenched around him, as if to tease him.

"Call me Daddy," Brahms instructed, plowing himself farther into you, his cock creating a bulge that neither of you noticed.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," You moaned, your back arching again as you came, your pussy clenching around him, you fingers digging farther into his flesh, drawing blood. Your mouth made more obscene noises, your breathing heavier. Brahms let out one more groan, cumming in you with ferocity. He shot heavy, thick loads into you. It was warm, running out of your pussy as he filled you with his hot cum.

"You'll get pregnant, right?" Brahms moaned, shooting one last load into you.

"Yes, Daddy," You replied, your fingers letting go of his skin. Tiny dots of blood dotted his shoulders, his back a mess of scratches. Your body was equally damaged, his handprints all over you, his bite marks covering your torso. "I will."

"Good." He breathed out, collapsing on you. "I'd like that."

"I would, too," You mused, his dick still inside of you. He let out a few heavy breaths before you realized he fell asleep, his cum still inside of you.

You listened to his soft snores, and felt yourself drifting off. Perhaps, yes, you'd like to raise children with him. He was a gentle man when he wanted to be.

"Merry Christmas, Brahms."

[brahmsh]

A conversation between Billy and Brahms.

[small-sinclair]

Because I haven’t read any Brahms Heelshire—

Brahms x y/n

Contains: reader is afraid of storms.

Thunder shook the mansion as lightning broke through the windows, cussing y/n to jolt up from bed. They looked around and hugged their knees as they listened to the storm outside. This wasn’t a storm they were used to, and being in a new house made things worse. They closed their eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but thunder clapped again and they jolted out of bed and headed straight for Brahms’s room.

Under the covers, the doll laid in his pajamas, glass eyes opened and looking up. Y/n rounded the bed and laid on the other side, going under the covers and holding the doll close. They closed their eyes as the storm rattled the house again.

From the closet, Brahms watched through the cracked door. His eyes glossed over y/n’s shaking body as he heard them whimper at the noise. Lightning lit the room, causing y/n to flinch and hide under the covers.

Though he prefers to wait to show himself to a nanny, he couldn’t stand the sight of them being scared like this. Y/n has been such a good person to him. They follow the rules, cook and clean with care, hugs the doll as if the doll was their child, sings and kisses it good night— it’s night far that they’re suffering alone with an object. He breathed out slowly before stepping out of the closet and crept towards the bed.

His heart breaks a little when he hears them cry under the covers as the storm. Gently, he kneels next to the bed and carefully placed a hand on their shoulder to comfort them, but y/n’s shoulder jerked as soon as his hand touched them.

As soon as they flew the covers over, he was crouched on the other side of the room, holding his hands out. He listens as y/n screams and coward back under their back is again the bed frame, but almost relaxes when they see his mask.

“Brahms?” They chocked out through tears.

He nods, his child voice answering, “Yes.”

Thunder crashed against the window, earning a yelp from y/n, and they brought the covers up to their chest. Brahms looked at the window them back at y/n.

“Brahms… sleep with… y/n?” He asked, his voice light and childish. “The storm is… scary to y/n.”

Y/n looks at the window then back at Brahms. They put the doll on the floor then opened their arms. Was there a man in the same doll mask? Yes. Was he going to kill them? No… right? But, he did offer to sleep next to them. Feeling like a child, y/n nods and welcomes Brahms into their hold.

Brahms laid next to y/n and put the covers over their shoulders. He felt them dig their face into his chest as they silently cried in his shirt. The storm will pass soon, he knows it, but his nanny is afraid. His glass mask rests against their hair and breathed in their scent.

“You’ll be okay,” he says in his real voice. “I swear to you, y/n.” He’s a gentleman, a good boy, just as his mother taught him to be. “I’ll keep you safe from the storm.”

He pulls them closer to his chest and closed his eyes. He’ll stay here tonight, y/n.

That’s a Heelshire Promise.

[dilophosauridae455]

I promised Brahms in a dress so here is brahms in a dress.

[krooschl]

brahmsy. my birthday special.

[1423nam]

I'm always late to the party with movies but I watched The Boy. Have to draw Brahms at least once in my lifetime..

[pedzs]

“Did your angel ever betray you?” FANFIC 🖤

@yaztheangel uploaded a new chapter of The Mask of Beauty and Rage, and I just had to capture a moment from it! So happy its back!

Read it on AO3 🖤

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(Pt. 2)

PART 1 - PART 3

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con/non-con, non consensual touching, somnophilia, Brahms is basically in heat

word count: 1,9k.

author's notes: I had to cut this part because it was getting too long and I wanted to stay in the 1k words limit... So... Part 3 👀??? Lmk

Brahms had no idea how much time had passed. All he knew was that it had felt like ages—long,  torturous ages—until he considered it safe to leave his hiding place. His breathing was still ragged as he carefully stepped into your room, his erection pulsing insistently in his pants, aching with every step he took towards your bed.

There you were, sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence, oblivious to the tumult of emotions you had stirred up within him. He had never seen you pleasuring yourself before. Did you touch yourself thinking of him? Envisioning a “real boy” keeping you company? His erection twitched at the thought. Oh, he could have helped you. He could have given you what you needed, if only...

You stirred in your sleep and he froze, holding his breath for a few moments.

Since your arrival, he had spent many a night standing in the darkness of your room, watching over you, hypnotised by your beauty and the soft cadence of your breathing. 

This time however was different. He could clearly feel it. The agonising aching in his pants was proof of that. 

Brahms had never allowed himself to get so close to you when he needed to tend to his own needs. He didn't trust himself. He didn’t trust what his twisted and perverted mind could come up with as obfuscated by an insatiable desire as it was; an intense yearning that he found himself able to suppress less and less each day, the more he watched you, listened to you, longed for you...

He didn't even know why he had entered your room. He'd simply opened the secret passage in the walls and moved towards you, drawn like a moth to a light source. 

He'd tried to crawl back inside the walls, to touch himself and cry your name as loudly as he was capable of, certain that you wouldn't be able to hear him, just like every other time he'd jerked off at the notion of you. He had attempted to ignore what he had just witnessed by leaving you alone... but he couldn't. His body refused to obey. It seemed as if you had enchanted him, as if your body was calling out to him, luring him in... 

Your words kept on echoing within his mind, your wish lulling him like a chant, instilling hope in his whole being, pulling the strings of his flesh like a master puppeteer.

You wanted Brahms to be real. He could grant your wish. He sought to grant your wish and make you happy.

You shifted position once more, this time lying on your back. The sheets slid slightly away from your body, exposing a portion of your torso and highlighting the curves of your breasts.

Brahms inhaled sharply through his nose. His gaze swept over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed form and what he could glimpse of the rest. As he swallowed drily, his Adam's apple bobbed hard in his throat. He could feel his resolve waver, his will crack. 

He could do anything to you. Anything his messed-up mind would push him to do. He could take anything that he wanted from you. Everything he'd ever craved. You were so beautiful... so vulnerable... lying there at his complete disposal…

The darkness would be the only witness. 

His feet moved by themselves, his hand trembling as it reached out to you. When the tips of his fingers brushed over the bare skin of your shoulder, he shuddered. It was as delicate to the touch as velvet, even softer than he had anticipated.

He leaned in closer, his mask nearly touching the top of your head, as he took a short sniff of your scent and moaned in delight. His erection throbbed at the familiarity. How many times had he reached his release point, sniffing the garments he'd stolen from you? However, breathing it in directly from your skin was hundreds of times better.

His fingers caressed your hair, then trailed the outline of your arm, slowly working his way down till he met the hem of the covers.

His gaze diverted to your face. You were sleeping so soundly. It seemed unlikely you would be waking up anytime soon.

His fingers didn't shake any more as they carefully pulled the blankets down, revealing your upper body. 

Brahms felt his heart leap and pound wildly, as if it was ready to burst his chest open. Yet the pain in his pants was far worse. It urged him to take action .

He clasped his hand around your wrist and pulled it toward his pants. His mask barely concealed the whine he let out once your palm made contact with his bulge. His entire body trembled with overwhelming desire. 

It felt like a sin. Something he would be chastised for. He should have been put off by the mere thought of it, yet this only made him more eager. More excited to let his perversions finally take the reigns. He couldn’t hold back any longer. 

The bed creaked slightly when he climbed onto it and onto you, encasing your legs between his. He leaned down and inhaled your enticing scent as he ran his nose along your neck and down your collarbone. His hands moved to your chest attracted to your body like magnets, palms closing around your breasts, groping the soft flesh from above the thin fabric of the nightgown you were wearing.

The cool touch of his porcelain mask travelling down your skin made you stir slightly in your sleep, your neck craning to the side allowing him more room, as if you were inviting him to keep probing your skin. He ripped the mask off his face with a grunt and dug in, lapping at your neck with hardly contained hunger. He heard you hum quietly in response and took it as a sign of approval. As his lips trailed on the surface of your skin, he travelled downward, slipping his fingers underneath the neckline of your robe and peeling it down. The sight of your exposed bosom heightened his burning desire, causing his erection to twitch unrelentingly. 

He couldn't help but kiss your breast, his lips lingering on your delicate flesh, wrapping around the sensitive tip. He moaned in pleasure, his hips jerking forward again, pressing against your body.

His careless movements caused you to hum louder and move again in your sleep, sluggishly kicking your legs. As a result, the covers fell further away from you, revealing your thighs. Your robe had rolled up in the process, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

Brahms stared down in awe at your figure, barely managing to hold back the guttural cries that threatened to spill from his mouth and startle you awake. He felt lured in by the sight of your thighs and in an instant his hands were on you again, fingers digging in your tender flesh. 

"Oh, my Y/N." His voice cracked with unbearable yearning as he moaned your name.

"Mmmh-?" 

He could hear you but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to wake you up, or maybe he didn't care anymore. He was too caught up in his heat-filled mind to bother worrying about anything else. 

He dipped, pressing his lips on your knee, and climbed up in a frenzy, leaving a wet trail of kisses and nibbles on your skin.

He frantically pulled your nightgown up past your belly, without ever taking his lips off of you. The moment your panties came into view, a sharp shiver coursed through his whole body, his eyes widened in hunger and he started salivating. Without delay he bent down again, pressing his nose against your heat to catch a whiff of your scent; your heady sweetness only made him more desperate, a whimper falling from his parted lips. Did you taste just as sweet? Oh, he was dying to find out.

You mumbled something incomprehensible while you wriggled under his persistent touch upon your body. And so you shifted again, turning to lay down on your stomach, unconsciously preventing him from reaching his desired destination. 

When you turned, Brahms felt a slight pushback, a grumble of discontent escaping his mouth, but it only took him a second to draw back in, urged by a primal need.

His gaze flickered to your bottom now in plain sight, his breath caught in his throat as he noted a wet spot right in the center of the cloth covering your heat. His hand moved as if it had its own mind, his fingers trailing over the damp spot before in a swift and impatient motion he pulled your panties to the side. He gasped as he looked down at your exposed folds, gulping at the way they glistened with your fluids.

He could not endure it any longer... He needed you... He yearned to feel his cock buried deep inside you... He'd fantasised about it so many times...  And now he was so close to actually making it happen... 

His body was a bundle of tensed nerves. He couldn't understand what was happening but everything ached and he knew you were the cause. Just like he knew you were the only one who could relieve him from this torture.

He'd never experienced such fierce emotions before. He had absolutely no control over them.

Brahms let out a sigh of relief as he unbuttoned his trousers, leaving more room for his swollen erection. His eyes fluttered closed in response, but only for a fraction of a second, unwilling to look away from the arousing sight of his fingers stroking your pussy, coaxing in your moisture and spreading your folds apart. 

His breathing was so ragged, it echoed through the old walls of your room. The only other audible sound was that squelch he caused by rubbing your labia, which only became more prominent the moment he buried his fingers inside you and started to move them in and out in a leisurely motion.

He had never touched a woman before. In the past, he had caught some of his previous nannies touching themselves; he saw what they were doing, how and where they lingered the most with their fingers but… he had never had the occasion to do it himself. Those women had turned out to be awful. They had disrespected the doll and by extension him. They were undeserving… But you… Oh, you deserved this and more… Yes. Yes. You deserved him.

A moan escaped your lips, and he felt you stirring more than you had before.

With a jolt of fear mixed with excitement he sensed you were about to turn and immediately reached over for his mask, securing it back on his face. With his other hand he pressed down on your spine to pin you on the mattress and prevent you from moving. 

"Mmmmh? W-what…" your voice was barely audible, your words slurred by your sleepy state.

He should have left you there, still half-asleep. He should have stopped right then and there. Made you believe that whatever you had felt that night had merely been part of a dream. He should have holed up in his walls and kept himself hidden for a little while longer before showing himself to you… before giving you what you deserved… and taking from you what he deserved… 

He should have been a good boy… 

But he couldn’t. 

Oh, no he couldn’t. He had gone too far, it was impossible for him to stop.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[I'm almost certain I will indeed write a third and final part for this but please let me know if you would actually like to read it! 🌹]

[Also, consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or buying me a ☕ if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

Tags: @shondlenoodle @lonely-girl2423 @mellsfern @inlovewithquestionablecharacters @dij-ology @things-you-cant-say-tomorrow-day

[beezin-art]

repost cuz forgot my watermark the last time i posted this one <3

[fortune-fool02]

Brahms: "I'll be good, I will."

Me: