Remus: *Scuddling at insane speeds around the manor in a amazon box. Manic laughter*
Y/n: *Sitting on the box and gripping the edge for dear life.* AHHHHHHH!!!
Roman and Chair: *Roman heroically riding on Chair. Chair moving as fast as he can behind Remus.*
Roman: Remus! You deranged duke! Slow down or you'll drop our little liege!
Remus: *More manic laughter*
Y/n: *Still screaming*
Dark and Jameson: *Not to far, watching all this and drinking coffee.*
Jameson: *Signing* So are you going to stop them?
Dark: *Giving a small smile* In a bit, I'll let them have their fun. *Sips coffee*
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Brahms foot fetish
I am not one to judge what puts the motion in your ocean.
It had been months of you working at the Heelshire estate, taking care of Brahms. You had been ignoring your outside duties a few days for fear of leaving Brahms alone inside the house and returning to another set of broken dishes. You had to empty the rodent traps and water the small garden lining the back of the house and him breaking things wouldn’t change that.
You’d searched through 4 rooms now and still couldn’t find your shoes anywhere. Both your sneakers and your sandals had gone missing along with the socks you wore the day prior. Brahms didn’t want you to go outside but it had been four days and if you don't reset the traps soon they might find their way inside. You explained this in your “indoor” voice so Brahms could hear. As you walked back down the stairs you saw your sandals by the door, but still no sign of your sneakers or your socks. You were sure Brahms would return them later. For whatever reason, he seemed to have a fascination with stealing your shoes, especially when you needed them. You figured it was probably because he didn’t like to be left alone and didn’t like you being outside for so long. At this point, Brahms has presented himself to you twice. You’re sure you’ve been in his presence more often but you’ve only seen him, the real him, face to face two times- both under equally awkward circumstances.
The first time you were showering and took less time than usual and were met with Brahms sitting in the chair in the bathroom, dick in hand pumping furiously to the sounds of you humming in the shower, the second was the one night you decided to sleep topless. His dick was concealed this time around, but his hands crept across your collarbones trying to inspect you further. A few times you had felt the blanket pulled off you and your legs caressed but all you had to do was tell him to be a good boy and behave and it wouldn’t happen again for a few days. He talked to you through the walls sometimes, but he rarely ever came outside. You slipped on your just-barely too big sandals and reached for the doorknob to go outside.
As soon as your hand made contact you heard him knock three times on the wall. “I know you don’t want me to leave Brahmsy, but I have to work outside a bit too. If I don’t reset the traps the angry little mice will come inside, and if I don't water the garden our pretty flowers will die. If you wanted to you could come with me.” You said, almost yelling. “y/n” he called from the walls “please stay in” he was using his baby voice with you, which he only ever did when he was desperate to get what he wanted (which in all fairness is most of the time). You threw on your nicest nanny voice and replied “Brahmsy darling, my sweet boy, why don’t you join me outside? I’ll show you the gardenias and hyacinth. You could help me collect some! Hyacinth is really good in white tea!~”
“Fine, but only because I want tea” he said in his real voice. You heard one of the paintings a hall over squeak on what you imagined to be it’s hinges. Though you’d lived in the hulking manor for months you never really explored his ways of in and out of the wall. You’d figured if he wanted you in there he would invite you in. You heard him start to approach you with cautious footsteps as you opened the door. “You haven’t been outside much, have you?” he shook his head no. You grabbed him by the hand and led him down the stubby, moss-covered steps to the garden, and over to the bushes of hyacinth. “Can you be a good helper and pick a handful of these while I reset the traps Brahmsy?” Rather than nod or say anything he squatted down and reached out for one of the blossoms.
You walked a few yards away to the farthest mouse trap and discarded the rodent carcass before resetting the traps. As you worked your way back over to Brahms you noticed he was smelling something he had balled up in his fist. You walked over to him to see if whatever it was was of any danger. “Brahms dear, what do you have?” He tucked his hands behind his back and moved in front of you everytime you angled yourself to see. “Brahms.” you scolded “be a good boy and show me what you have.” As he extended his hands you saw that he was holding your socks. “Brahms! You naughty boy, why have you been stealing my socks?!” As you grabbed them from him, you felt them crunch in your hand, and it hit you.
“Brahms? Do you have a thing for feet?!” He lowered his head, embarrassed, and nodded cautiously. “Well, stealing isn’t how we get what we want now is it?” He shook his head no. “Have you got the hyacinth?” He looked back up at you and emptied his pockets into his hands, which were now full of petals. “Good boy. Let’s go back inside now. My feet are killing me” you said with a wink. He stared at you puzzled before following you back inside.
You hated to admit it but since the first encounter in the bathroom, you’d been thinking of Brahms quite a bit. It was weird though, you were his nanny and were charged with looking after that small porcelain doll, but the real Brahms was much larger, and much more appealing to your mind. The real Brahms was much older than you expected, he looked in his late 20′s or early 30′s. It had been a while since you had contact with anyone but him. And none of the contact you did have was physical.
You handed the socks back to Brahms once inside and told him to wait for you at the table while you made tea. Feet weren’t exactly your thing, but you were desperate for human contact and felt an ache building up inside you. A need for release. You poured the warm water over the tea bags and dropped in a few hyacinth petals. “Now Brahms, I want you to understand I’m not mad at you. The idea that you've been... using.. my socks was a bit off-putting at first.” he listened intently waiting to be chastised, but it never happened. “I understand you have urges but I would prefer you came to me about them before you take my things again. I’m not particularly into feet, but I’m willing to help you out.” His eyes shone as he sipped his bittersweet tea. “You mean it?” he asked, no longer using his baby voice. “I do.” you replied. “Can I ask you to do something then?” this was the most coherently you’d heard him speak. You honestly weren’t sure he was capable of this much communication before. He wanted you to see him as the adult that he is right now and dropped the childish attitude. “Can you.. touch me. With your feet?” you were a bit taken aback at how straightforward he was about it but you obliged.
You kicked off your sandal and ran your foot up and down his leg under the table causing him to shudder. You did this a few times before sliding your foot to his crotch. You rocked your foot back and forward a few times, earning a few whimpers from Brahms in the process “Can I.. Can I take it out?” he asked. His mask was still on but you could tell how red his face was getting beneath the cool porcelain. You nodded and waited for him to get his dick out. He was already half-hard. You started gliding your foot up and down his shaft, earning a few breathy moans and more whimpering. It wasn’t long before you felt him start to twitch beneath your soles. You slowed down your movements and in return he began to rut his hips against your foot, trying to chase release that he was so eager to earn. He gave a few dozen thrusts until you felt the warm liquid hit the ball of your foot. A few desperate pants and soft whines escaped Brahms’ mouth before he lay back in the kitchen chair, tired from getting what he had wanted for so long. He kneeled down under the table and slowly licked your foot from your heel up to the bits between your toes. He was cleaning up the mess he made so you wouldn’t have to. And he enjoyed it, and in an odd way, you did too.
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