Brahms X Male Reader - Tumblr Posts
I got bored and went on the slasher side of The cursed clock app and found this lovely lad! After actually watching the boy movie and a lot of fan edits of the skrungy wall man I made a character, started some fan fic (both writing and reading) and draw some fan art
The story I’m writing is called “within these walls”
Story summary
Clarence smith a 23 year old horror writer moves in to the heelshire house with his mortician parents Jonathan and Kristin along with his 17 year old songwriter sister June. All is well until one of Clarence’s flannels go missing and his sister starts to complain about knocking on the walls thinking it’s him. A unknown woman claiming to be the prevues owner shows up asking questions… where will this go what will the smith family do more immediately though what will Clarence do when he finds who else is in the house.
Also it’s like 3:23 and I made this.
Clarence was actually ment to be blond but this looked better.
I made more! This was ment to be with the other picture I made of these two but I didn’t finish in time. I did update Clarence so he doesn’t look like a baby no more
I also got the first chapter of my Brahms x my Oc Clarence done
He's baby
Brahms heelshire x male reader bc i love him
the news caught on the returning of a local modern noble and bombarded the gates and door asking questions about what is the caused of the return, this stresses brahms out by the sudden amount of people in his front door with leads to reader shooing the news folks off then comforting brahms by the sudden change.
Or hcs of how brahms would react to the news folks and if he reacts greatly with being a known noble now since coming out of hiding? How’s he gonna feel about paparazzi‘s when adjusting to society again? /i like to think reader is guilding him slowly into society again like a little trip to the park here and there, etc, so he doesn’t surprise or go to fast for brahms/
Sorry for the time again unu I hopeyou like this
Neither of you noticed the change that had taken place outside the Heelshire mansion, as you were immersed in the book Brahms was reading, in a clear and passionate voice.
The deep timbre of his voice soothed you greatly, to the point where you felt at an intermediate crossroads between the events of the book and the sensations of the real world. Brahms had long since discovered what your favorite book was, and whenever he sought to be even more pampered by you, he would read you your favorite passages in that voice that tickled your heart.
It was Brahms' hand touching your thigh softly that brought you back to the present moment, and you could finally perceive the commotion outside the place.
Brahms stilled suddenly, reacting to it as well, and his hands, now trembling and clumsy, put on the porcelain mask quickly, forbidding your eyes for an indefinite period of time to appreciate your beloved.
You looked at him in consternation, your mind racing to find an explanation for what was happening.
Finally, you decided to go out to investigate what it was all about, making sure that Brahms was well hidden behind the walls.
After hiding a razor in the sleeve of your shirt and kissing your boyfriend's dark curls, assuring him that everything would be all right, you plucked up the courage to go out...
Not expecting to run into a sea of screaming reporters, demanding an answer about Brahms' current condition, taking pictures that dazzled you, and pushing the limits of civilized socializing.
"The man who was in the room earlier, was that Brahms?" your stomach cringed at these words, for it was clear that he had been seen, there was no point in hiding his presence, and lying about his identity could have been worse.
"What happened after all this time? Who are you?" asked a red-haired woman with the widest and greediest eyes you had ever seen.
"Can we talk to him? He's front-page news," a man who was barely trying to look friendly in your eyes with his feet firmly planted in anticipation of getting through.
"The great Heelshire heir on his return from the dead, the question is not if you're going to let us in, but how long" that tall, strong woman looked capable enough to pull you aside to get her scoop. You swallowed hard.
That kaleidoscope of eager and hungry faces was making you nauseous, but you couldn't leave Brahms at the mercy of such predators. You didn't doubt their curiosity, nor that, in fact, your man's story would be fascinating to the local public, but you did doubt how they would treat him, how they would portray him to the world, and, above all, whether Brahms could even bear their overwhelming presence.
"He won't answer anything and I don't know the story, so there's nothing to see here, I'm sorry," you said firmly but without wanting to be aggressive or rude. Still, this did not sit well with the small crowd, as they were only more insistent on wanting to go in and get the answers for themselves.
"Are you his legal guardian? His boyfriend? Are you connected to his parents' disappearance?"
"Are you aware that he could be a murderer?"
"What are you going to do with all that money?"
Those questions, increasingly invasive, felt like hard blows to the peace that had previously reigned in that bubble away from the world, and of course, the malicious nature of them all made you furious.
"This is private property, so if you don't want to be fined or arrested for trespassing, I suggest you go away and leave us alone" you made yourself heard, more threatening than firm this time, but still, those persistent people seemed to have turned a deaf ear.
"Get the fuck out!" you shouted at the top of your lungs, struggling with the door to close it, pushing away hands and feet until you heard the exclamations of astonishment and felt that familiar body heat behind your back.
"Brahms! An interview! Talk to us! Are you going to jail?" and with his body tense in a way you had never seen before, Brahms slammed the door shut, pinching jackets and fingernails that ended the mess.
"Shit," you whispered again, aware of how much the privacy and your boyfriend's well-being were at risk.
With those same trembling hands, Brahms grabbed hold of your arms, collapsing on top of you, trembling between sobs, soaked with fear.
"My love," you whispered, heartbroken at Brahms' vulnerability and fear.
Without letting go of his hand, you insisted on carrying him to the bathroom, where you knew perfectly well that no one would have access. After taking care of Brahms, you would call Malcolm to have security cameras placed on the property, whatever it took to keep out the press and other curious onlookers.
Your priority now was your boyfriend crying on the spotless bathroom floor, terrified of what they might do to him.
With extreme care, you removed his mask, being able to watch those thick tears run down his cheeks.
"They're coming back, for me" and hearing that come from his lips made your world crumble. You couldn't stand to see him like this.
"I won't leave them, and you know it. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep them from seeing you, so they never get to you and know nothing" you promised, holding his face in your hands, looking for those beautiful blue eyes to look at you.
"You are the most important thing to me, Brahms, I will not let anything or anyone hurt you or separate you from my side, do you hear me?"
And the intensity of your words, the conviction with which you uttered each one and that determined and furious look, convinced him instantly. You were his man, so strong and sure, his knight in shining armor.
"Y/N...I love you" and he kissed you, in that awkward, passionate, emotion-filled way so characteristic of him.
Inside, you were terrified, devising a thousand and one plans so that that hidden nest would not remain exposed, but feeling that kiss, that beard against your face, those curls caressing your cheeks, you knew that you would be able to do anything to keep him safe and experience again those sensations, the most pleasurable of your life, until the world would be extinguished.
Let me love this man!!
Give me danger
Brahms Heelshire x Male S/O
Tw: not really, if you really read into it's kinda suggestive but not that much
Reader is horny for danger tbh it's me, it's you, it's the slasher community
1205 words
Your job was anything besides normal, but you couldn’t care less. You always liked the unusual, the creepy.
You even had a little collection of weird-looking dolls, so being the nanny of a little porcelain boy wasn’t hard for you.
You were drowning in debts, so when that old couple gave you the job you were grateful more than anything. You knew well that people had different coping mechanisms, especially with a tragedy like that, so you didn’t ask anything else.
Yeah, you thought that hiring a male nanny after several female ones was kind of strange but again, humans are complicated.
You find yourself very comfortable in that old house, it was a beautiful property, full of books and a lot bigger than every apartment you once lived in. It had a beautiful aesthetic where you often found yourself lost in, pretending you were the main carácter in an old goth novel.
Until the noises appeared. You lived in insecure places, full of crime and danger since you were a baby, so your parents had taught you to be always on your guard, paying attention to your surroundings and aware of any danger in there. Since you had embraced the role of the second male in the house, protecting your mother, you had become rather paranoid with noises.
And even if that house was old, it was full of out-of-place noises.
When the voice of the Little boy started to talk to you, you had sighed, relieved of dealing with a ghost, one rather sad than vengeful. Your parents always told you that it was worst to deal with live people.
Even you had liked your little chats. He was very curious about your life. Your likes, dislikes, and hobbies.
You liked to write so whenever you had the chance, you write some tale for him and that made him very happy.
The company of a ghost was weird but warm at the same time. He always tried to be complimented by you and telling him that he had been a good boy was rather adorable.
That, until you had been out for a long long time, gathering things that Malcolm couldn’t bring to the house.
When you came home that day, Brahms had trowed a tantrum in your bedroom, and when you tried to talk to him and listen to his angry arguments, you knew that that voice wasn’t the voice of a child and that your missing clothes were another sign of a rather adult person with iffy tendencies.
There was no ghost at all.
Of course, you could have run, you could have escaped from that unnerving situation but somehow you found yourself fond of Brahms, child or not.
The history itself of his sad ending made it difficult to think about leaving. You had a fear of loneliness, so you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.
—I’m so sorry Brahms, I didn’t want to upset you, I just forgot —you said, trying to apologize, talking to the walls where you know he had been hiding all along.
—That wasn’t nice— he said in that child-like tone. Now it made you quite uncomfortable, but you wanted to hear him regardless.
—I know and I’m sorry. I just thought that you wouldn’t mind and well, I thought that you would see me even in the supermarket. Ghosts know how to be everywhere — you pushed, trying to get a reaction from him.
—I’m not a ghost Y/N— Brahm’s voice was beginning to break from his childish form, turning into his real mature form. He wasn’t angry anymore…right?
—I don’t know what you are, Brahmsie, I have never seen you — you were kinda nervous, but you wanted to see him. You didn’t think he would want to kill you, if that were the case, you had been already dead.
—You want to see me? — he asked with his soft, childish tone.
—Yes, we know each other, no? You have seen me every day but I just know your voice — Brahms didn’t answer quickly, you heard his footsteps for the first time, he wanted you to hear them. And then, something in the library.
You walk there, slow and cautious until you saw his tall frame in a corner f the room.
—So, you are the original Brahms—you tried to sound chill and composed but the fact that you had been living with a man for those months, one that used that weird doll mask inside the walls, made you realize that you were, in fact, in the dangerous wolf pack since day one.
The man whispered a yes while walking slowly towards you.
Your parent’s words punched your brain with guilt. You really could have died.
But somehow you were alive…why?
—Why I’m here, Brahms? — you asked letting him touch your hand. His skin was warm, with dust and other ashy textures from the construction materials of the walls. His figure was rather attractive and you punched yourself internally for thinking like that. You didn’t know the intentions of this man and you were there, admiring his black curls and strong demeanor.
—They said you were mine. Mom and dad. That you were mine and you’ll take care of me — the way he said mine made you shiver but you didn’t try to put distance between his hand and yours. They told you that they had a lot of candidates, but Brahms had chosen you. It was something that he didn’t want to tell you, he didn’t know how you’ll react but he choose a male as his nanny out of curiosity. Female ones haven’t worked well so far but then he saw you, with your smirk, your stubble, and your bushy eyebrows. So tough and strong…and he really really liked you in that way that made him embarrassed and hot.
You thought it was more of his parents choosing you, because as a man, even one of the shorter side like you, was strong enough to take care of the house, not only of Brahms the doll.
But now…
You didn’t know what to do or say. You weren’t captive, not yet at least. You know how weird this situation was, how dangerous and still…you wanted to stay. And you didn’t like the reason behind it.
He was kinda sweaty and the smell of that sweat made your feet steady on the floor. It was the adrenaline, the danger, the creepy situation that made you eager to stay in the house.
You knew he could be dangerous and that made you shiver with anticipation. You hated yourself for that.
—I’ll take good care of you, Brahms…I promise — you said taking a chance to caress his curls sweetly. He whined like a puppy and got closer to you.
At this point, you were more afraid of yourself, of that dark zone in your mind and heart that made you stay.
When Brahms put his hands on your back and tried to give you an awkward hug, you welcomed that dark part in yourself, with a hand in his curls and the other in his waist, you cherished the thought of more contact between the two of you.
Even so, you were eager for more.