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itsgrimeytime · 2 months

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drunk on you (part two) || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader (no apocalypse!AU)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

Part 1

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: You'd known Rick forever, as far back as freshman year. He was a guy you (if you were honest) had a crush on; there was just something in his stance and the low drawl of his voice. You'd say that feeling only got worse from there. Before you could blink, he was married and had a kid; and suddenly, despite your best efforts, you felt very out of place. You faded out of his life, and he yours. So when Rick shows up at your door (drunk out of his mind) about 5 years after the last time you spoke to him, you have a lot of questions.

TWs: divorce mention, alcohol, making out, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: girl get ready. WEDDING TIME!!! Also, I am about to create Rick Grimes's mother as a character in this one, so... I know Southern mothers, you'll see. Enjoy :))]]

Soon after you reunited with Rick, you got the wedding invite in the mail. All curly letters and shiny details, you wondered briefly just how fancy it would be, and the dress code-

You made a note to ask Rick before the day.

You'd been seeing a lot of him recently, he either asked you to come to his city or just showed up in yours.

You'd shown him a few different places, (you'd gone to a café, one with cheesy puns that you, ashamedly, laughed at. Rick had only smiled, and shook his head, "Adorable." You weren't sure what exactly he was talking about, but something in you had a clue), and even some of your favorites.

You weren't sure why you wanted to share so much with him, but it felt natural.

He'd even met some of your new friends ("That Rick?"), and they had promptly horrendously embarrassed you. (He is handsome, you were right, Y/N.) Rick couldn't get enough of that day, laughing and smiling with your friends -but you did catch his cheeks turning rosy when they brought up your... compliments.

It made your heart stutter in your chest.

And then, he'd brought Carl to meet you again. Rick was terrible about just showing up at your place unprompted, so you were not ready for it. But somehow you slotted right in.

"You know I held you as a baby, right?"

Carl blinked up at you like he was processing the information, and maybe trying to recognize you, "I think I remember you."

He seemed to only remember that you were constantly playing with him, and even pulled out some old toys you recognized. Ones that were apparently super sentimental to him. It made you smile.

You fell right back in place, listening to him talk about whatever he wanted to -it felt familiar. Something about your old life that wasn't as hurtful.

You'd missed the little guy.

And in the back of your head, if you noticed Rick wordlessly staring at you with quite possibly the brightest smile you'd ever seen on his face, you ignored it. Because there was still two months to go, and that meant nothing.

Or at least that's what you told yourself.

The weeks before the wedding though, you didn't see much of him. A part of you wondered if it had all washed away, and you weren't entirely sure how to interact with that.

You were probably the only one early to the wedding, but Lori had wanted you to be. Said something about catching up, and wanting to see you. Shane was apparently just the same. You weren't sure how to take it.

On one hand, they were your old friends, on the other, they had really done something shitty to Rick and you doubted they got as much flak as they should have. Rick was too nice, always was, but he definitely had his moments.

Later, you decided, later, you'd chew them out. Not on their wedding day.

Fidgeting with your clothes, you waltzed up into the chapel -all high ceilings and stained-glass windows. It was beautiful, really, with flowers strewn against the pews and a leather little check-in book where you signed in. It was everything that a wedding was supposed to be, all the little bells and whistles.

Isn't infidelity a sin? Your mind chimed, and you zapped back the thought -a betraying little smile on your face.

"Y/N!" a voice cheered, and you were met with Shane -a few years older and a buzzcut (which was an interesting choice, to say the least), "-long time no see, buddy!"

"Hey," you smiled, genuine warmth building up -he was your friend after all. He was like a brother. That was kinda why you did what you did.

With a breath, you smacked him in the face -not a real one, kind of just a play hit. It still got the message across.

"Yeah," he rubbed his jaw, "-figured 'at was comin'."

"Good," you said, before opening up your arms for a hug, which Shane gladly accepted. He still smelt the same -a little too sour for your tastes, but was much more built. Just like Rick.

You smiled, stepping back, "It's really good to see you, sorry for-"

"Don't," Shane held up his hand, "-There's no need. I get it, a lot more than ya think."

At least I held back on my impulses, you thought, before shoving it down again.

God, you were really going to have to keep yourself in check today.

"I'll show ya to where Lori is," he offered, "-think she's still getting ready."

"Probably will be for a while, Shane," you laughed, "-The wedding hasn't even started."

"Good point," he agreed, gruffly, before guiding you to a door -you heard a lot of rustling behind it. Just thinking of the extent of people, you nearly didn't knock.

Luckily, Shane did that for you.

"'S Y/N," he called before nearly scampering away -you had to hold back a laugh.

"Oh, come in!"

Lori was the first one to, verbally, greet you, smiling wide -her hair was getting done, "Y/N, oh it's so good to see you, I'm so glad you could-"

Before she could finish, someone came rushing over to you - almost squealing in delight.

"Y/N, honey," she smiled, big and bright, "-it's been so long!"

That was the one and only Bonnie Grimes, Rick's mother. You wondered for a moment, why she would be here, before she barreled you into a hug.

"Hey, Mrs. Grimes," you smiled, accepting her hug gratefully, and she squeezed you a little too hard but you had expected it. Bonnie Grimes was on solid hugger, wouldn't let you go until she wanted to.

"Please, call me Bonnie," she grinned, before pulling back from the embrace, "-Look at you! You look so good, honey! All grown up."

"You saw me when I was in college, Mrs... Bonnie," you laughed, "-I don't think I've changed much since then."

"I still remember you in high school," she sighed -wistfully, "-ugh, the three of you were so cute! I miss those days."

Before you could say a word, she intertwined your arms and began ushering you out the door, "C'mon, let's go, sweetie! We have lots to talk about."

"I was just-" she pulled you neatly out of the door, so you shot Lori an apologetic smile -she laughed and waved you off.

Bonnie had never had the... best relationship with Lori, you heard it through the grapevine a lot. So, you had no idea why she was here at all, other than to maybe see Carl? But, still, she was definitely petty enough to wait and see him later, so what-

"When Ricky told me you were comin', I just had to see you," she said -like she was reading your mind, before whispering low, "-otherwise I wouldn't even be 'ere."

You nearly laughed at 'Ricky', but sealed it back behind your lips, responding simply, "I'm really honored, Bonnie. I would've come out to see you but-"

"Oh, sweetie," she laughed, pulling you down to sit outside on a bench infront of the church, "-I know why you couldn't. A mother's instincts."

"Yeah," you laughed, a little awkwardly -his mom knowing was not something you had quite imagined.

"You know, I always wanted you two together," she remarked, almost as if she didn't expect you to comment, "-liked you better than her for him."

"Bonnie," you urged.

"What? They're divorced now, I can say it."

"Maybe not at her wedding," you quipped back.

"Okay, you're right," she sighed out, "-suppose I just can't get over what they did to my baby."

You frowned, taking a hand and rubbing soothing circles into her shoulder, "I can imagine, it must've really hurt to see your son like that."

"Hurt? Oh I was furious, sweetie," she clarified, "-Ricky had to hold me back by my horns."

You let out a laugh, and Bonnie smiled back. The air was crisp, and the sun was warm -it was a good day. And, it was nice to get to come back -see some of where you grew up. It was familiar, homey and you felt in place, you weren't sure that would ever go away.

"You know, he talked about you," Bonnie hummed, looking out into the streets, "-even when you left, it was like... he wanted to keep you in his memories."

You exhaled, guilt swirling up in your stomach, "Yeah, I'm starting to think I made a mistake leaving. I feel like I missed so much."

Bonnie smiled -a little bittersweet, gathering you up into a side hug, "No one is smart in the matters of the heart, honey. You were hurtin', you did what you could to feel better. There's nothin' wrong with that."

You smiled, leaning into her -your head resting on hers, "Thanks, Bonnie."

"Now, that that's settled," she said slowly, happiness dipped into her words, "-Can we talk about it?"

"About what?"

"My son," she clarified, playfully smiling, "-he talks all about you, you know. And he's been really excited for today, I was hopin' you could tell me why. It's downright suspicious for a man to be so happy at his ex-wife's wedding-"

"Maybe, she's marrying a terrible man," you joked, and Bonnie laughed.

"Shane always was trouble," she seemed to think back, before reiterating, "-I know you two have been spendin' a lot of time together, and I didn't want to be hopin'."

"Okay," you held up your hands in mock surrender, "-you got me. When we met up those few months ago, he told me he had feelings for me-"

"No, really?!" she gasped, "-Oh, I thought he was never going to do that. Praise you, Jesus-"

"It was right after Shane's bachelor party, and I was... skeptical," Bonnie listened very closely, "-so I told him that if he still feels the same by the wedding, we can talk."

"That's very reasonable, sweetie," Bonnie smiled, before speaking much more directly, "-I hate to say it, though, all 'at time was certainly wasted. My boy has loved you since he met you-"

"Bonnie."

"-he just didn't know it," she finished, slapping her hands into her lap, "-You don't know how many times I tried to get it through his head, honey. It was like talkin' to a brick wall, I tell you."

You laughed again, "Well, I appreciate you sticking up for me."

"Oh, I do it a thousand times over for you, sweetheart," she hugged you into her side again, "-you make my baby boy very happy and I'll be forever grateful for that."

You smiled -something warm in your chest.

"And," she whispered, "-if you need a moment with Rick, you just tell me and I can draw a whole crowd."

You laughed even harder then, as she guided you back inside -you ended up helping with some if the last minute decorations.

At the current moment, you were pulling the flower petals into the basket for the flower girl. Apparently, they had to be fresh. It was kind of sad to pull them off the flower though.

"Hey," a voice breathed out like they were startlingly happy.

You peeked up, and saw the one and only Rick Grimes -dressed to the nines in a suit that really suited him. Handsome, really handsome. You fidgetted with your clothes self-consciously.

"Hi," you parroted back with a smile, "-like the suit."

"Oh," he grinned, a bit like he had so much energy but just couldn't put it anywhere, "-thank you, wasn't sure I'd like it."

It was the one picked out by Lori, with the color scheme -the light blue tie matched his eyes really well though, so she apparently picked well. Rick was Shane's best man, so his outfit was one specially picked -you weren't given the "luxury".

"I think you look handsome," you smiled, halting your work for a moment, "-If that helps with your opinion at all."

"Uh, yeah," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "-Yeah, it does. Yours was the only opinion 'at matters."

Your heart jolted into your throat, your eyes flickered back down to your hands -pulling off more petals. The basket was about halfway full now.

"Wouldn't say that out loud, Ricky," you teased -alluding.

"Oh god," he groaned, "-my Mom's 'ere? Why?"

"The one and only," you laughed, "-and apparently she's here for me."

"Sounds like 'er," he grinned -big and bright, and it seemed like he almost wanted to say something else but-

"Rick, Shane needs you," someone, who you decidedly didn't know, popped their head in.

"Talk later?" You offered.

Rick pursed his lips for a moment, like he was really debating going anywhere else. (Like he wanted to stay with you.) But he let out a big, long sigh, "Yeah, I'll hold ya to it."

"Please, do," you laughed, watching him go out of the room -like a puppy dog. You frowned, you really need to get yourself in check.

The ceremony was beautiful, Bonnie sat beside you and plastered on the most real fake smile you'd ever seen -elbowing you and whispering low little jokes every once in a while. You had to bite back laughter half the service. On your other side was Carl fidgeting with his vest -apparently he was supposed to be up there with Shane, but he refused. You got a little kick out of that.

To cheer him up, you taught him the head squish trick -squeezing your two fingertips together from a distance. Carl was much more engaged after that, particularly squishing his Dad's head with a big smile.

And Rick, well, he stayed focused but every once in awhile, you'd catch him looking at you. The dart of an eye, so quick you could miss it if you hadn't been looking at him too; Bonnie would point it out to you, if you weren't paying attention.

The reception was nearby, in a building that was primarily rented for this exact purpose. It looked how you thought a reception should look with a big dance floor, so many decorated tables, and a buffet of food off to the side. Which all looked and smelled delicious, you noted.

Each seat had a name, you realized. So, you were kind of awkwardly navigating through tables to try and find your spot -you didn't want to get food and then wander around like a chicken with your head cut off. So, you dodged through chairs -peeking at the little cards, and just as you found it, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You spun around and met Bonnie's eyes, she was looking a little nervous.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes," she hummed, "-I just realized that I forgot some medicine in my purse, would you be a doll and go grab it for me?"

"Sure," you soothed, "-where is it?"

"The closet where they put the coats," Bonnie answered, "-I wanted it out of the way, but-"

"Bonnie," you smiled, ushering her to her marked chair, "-please, sit down, I'll grab it for you."

She smiled, big and wide, a polite thank you leaving her lips. There was something there, but at the time, it didn't seem important.

With a breath, you wondered back toward the front of the building -trying to remember which closet exactly was the one with the coats. You hadn't had one, so you didn't stop but-

The door to the closest one slipped open, and hands pulled you inside. You nearly screamed, but when your eyes adjusted to the dim light, they settled on Rick -standing just across from you.

"Rick," you hissed, "-what the hell? You scared the-"

"Sorry, sweetheart, was the only way to getcha alone," he spoke, a little quickly -breathlessly happy to see you.

"Oh, is that why-" you puffed out a breath, "-Bonnie was in on this, wasn't she?"

Rick grinned, shrugging a little -as if to say, maybe. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from smoothing across your face.

"Why are we in here, Rick?"

"I needed to talk to ya," he echoed out, "-alone."

"And we couldn't do that anywhere else?" You laughed, "-Like outside, or-"

"It was the first idea to pop into my head, gimme a break," he responded, slow with a smile, "-I 'aven't thought clearly all day."

"What if someone tries to get in here?" You questioned, voice low, "-this is going to look pretty incriminating-"

"It locks from the inside," he said simply, moving his hand and turning the lock.

Your breath caught in your throat suddenly, realization setting in -you were locked in a clost with Rick. Correction, you were locked in a small closet with Rick by his own doing.

Jesus Christ.

"Is there-" you questioned, "-something you wanted to talk about, or?"

You knew exactly what he wanted to talk about, but you were not going to be the one to bring it up. Especially when his face was so close to yours, and the light was dim enough to make his eyes shine so blue, and you could feel his breaths on your face-

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, you could feel it in your throat.

You expected this is much different circumstances, like an open room and good lighting and maybe the crisp night air. Not in a hall closet, where all you could smell was Rick (a woodsy sort of smell), and all you could see was Rick.

His hair was tussled a little, like he had nervously run his hands through it. And part of you wanted to reach up and comb through it, he was letting it get longer now -you liked it.

"I didn't think this through," he finally said.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-I can tell."

"Well, I did," he reasoned, "-'ad this whole thin' planned out, how I was gonna say it and everythin'. But now I... Looking at you, I can't remember any of it."

"You sure it's not a lack of oxygen?" You teased, trying to cut through the tension, "-This room is pretty small-"

"I'm in love with you."

Your mouth snapped shut.

He was laughing a little -in disbelief or happiness, you couldn't tell, "You told me, if my feelin's stayed the same to tell ya. But they haven't."

"They haven't?" You asked, a little weakly.

"I fell in love with you," he clarified, grin so bright, "-I watched you wit' Carl and my Mom and just you. And I... I love you. God, I love you."

"Rick," you whispered out.

"I knew," he exhaled, stepping slightly forward, "-I knew there was somethin'. That I felt somethin' and then you were everywhere, and suddenly I felt everythin'."

Your eyes were starting to tear up, but you held them back.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about ya, and then I just wanted to see ya, all the time-" he exhaled through a laugh.

"Rick," you repeated.

"I love you," he repeated like it was all he could say, eyes desperately searching yours, "-and I know it's kinda shitty to 'ave this moment 'ere, because it's my ex-wife's weddin'-"

You laughed, and a grin found itself along his face -letting out a chuckle.

"But I couldn't wait," he echoed out, "-couldn't wait long enough to not 'ave to do it in a damn closet."

"I would have preferred that," you remarked, "-but, this... this is okay too."

"I nearly told you this mornin'," he breathed out, "-you were in front of me an' all I could think was-"

Your hands cupped his face, and pulled him forward without so much as another thought. He stilled at first, shocked, but when he realized, everything in him shifted.

He pushed you into the wall almost without thinking, instinctual. Hands on the wall behind you, he cornered you in; and your hands only squeezed tighter on his jaw. It was desperate, like he'd been dying in the desert and you were water -like if he didn't have you now, he would've died.

Your hands slipped to his shoulders, and one of his moved to cup your face -your head was getting woozy. He separated for a moment, eyes darting between yours and pressed forward again -stealing the breath out of your lungs.

"Rick," you breathed out, but he kept pushing kisses onto your lips. Like he could never have enough, "-Rick."

He groaned -apparently eager to keep kissing you, pulling back, "What, baby?"

Your throat went dry, lips smacking shut. That was new, you had never heard him call you baby before. Platonically, sweetheart, darlin', the works. But this was distinctly, romantic.

Rick scanned over you for a moment, a bit in concern -eyes fluttering along your face, "Everythin' okay?"

He was still caging you in, wide expanse of arm just above your shoulder and his face a breath away. Your brain was suddenly short-circuiting, all you could see was Rick and all you could smell was Rick and all you could taste-

"Hey, sweetheart," he moved his hands to hold your face -keeping your eyes solely on him, "-are ya okay? Did I hurt you or-"

"No," you let out in a breath, a little embarrassed, "-you just... you called me baby."

"You don't like 'at? I don't 'ave to-"

"Rick, no," you clarified, burning with embarrassment, "-I like it. I... really like it. You've just never called me baby before."

He smiled, sort of lightly -a little like he was in love with you (which he very much was), "I've never kissed you before either, ya know?"

"Yeah, obviously," you huffed out a breath, "-I'm still getting used to that part too. But I just didn't..."

You groaned, and Rick's grin only got wider.

Pushing your hands into your eyes, you exhaled -shame burning in your stomach, "This is so embarrassing."

He didn't say anything for a moment, before his fingers came to grab at your hands pulling them away from your eyes, "'S not embarrassing, baby, 's cute."

"God, you're going to use that against me forever now," you peeked up at him, "-aren't you?"

He grinned at you, hand coming up to hold your cheek, "Yeah, 'course, I am."

Rick was smiling at you then, his eyes dipping low to your lips and your breaths hollowed out in your chest.

"We really can't-" you tried to contradict, but it was weak willed.

"What's a few more minutes, baby?" Rick hummed, face so close to yours that you could see different shades of blue in his eyes.

You only had so much will.

It would be a waste to use it now anyway.

#its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #drunk on you #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes twd

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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months

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[If you need to be mean] chapter 7

You are trying to think about future with Konig TW for the work: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in her early 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: kidnapping

Chapter Text

He fixed the sink.

It’s so dumb actually, even to think about it – pun not intended, you are not happy or energetic enough to ever attempt puns right now, not in your drained emotional state. He came to your house, uninvited as always – you thought about giving him a spare key just so he would stop barging inside at every giving moment, but then understood that it would only make matters worse – it would feel like you are inviting him. Like you’re okay with him being here, invading your space just like a foreign soldier he is.

You stare at the sink – and it’s in perfect condition. No water droplets splashing from various screws, no rust on the metal – it looks like it just got out of the store, and it was never that perfect even when you first moved into this apartment.

He didn’t even say anything about it – you don’t even remember him coming to your apartment with a bunch of instruments, with anything that can help a grown-up man burst into the apartment of his so-called girlfriend so he could fix her sink without her knowing.

It’s nice of him, you think. You can wash your hands and brush your teeth without water spilling everywhere, and you don’t have to worry about mold slowly building inside the narrow space of your bathroom. You can even place some of the expensive skin care he bought on the ceramic surface without feeling disgusted every time you touch the white material. You don’t even use that much skincare, you don’t know why he bought it and where he got it. Quite frankly, judging by his ever-cold stare and complete emotional absence of everything connected to the gifts, you think he doesn’t know why he gives you so much either.

Maybe, he thinks that your relationships are purely transactional. Maybe he always wanted a sugar baby but was too busy to get a specific one. Maybe he is so hideous under his hood, that the only way he knows how to get women is through gifts.

You don’t even want to like him, you are always on the receiving end of his affection, almost never initiating anything. He is too hot to handle – not in a good way. Being nice to him feels like being nice to a stray dog - thin, malnourished, that type who would return to you even after a few good kicks in the curb. He is attached to you like hot glue and you can’t get him off without breaking the skin – and you are scared of him almost as much as your body is attracted to him. There is something nice about allowing him to love you – even though you feel like he is simply too fucking damaged to love properly.

But he fixed your sink, he gave you a bunch of gifts and he gently advances over you without feeling overbearing. You don’t know how much you could bear without him wanting to actually put something in you, besides his fingers and various dry-humping sessions but, at least for now, he feels safe.

König leaves you money in places you are not looking at first – almost like he is ashamed of paying you. Acknowledging how artificial your “relationships” are too much for him, but he still wants you to feel the best life possible. He is soft, and gentle with you, almost too much – even though you have various bruises when his grasp became too much on the softness of your limbs.

Dating him – as much as you couldn’t even call it dating, more like receiving his advances and accepting the way he likes you like an obedient dog – made you actually read the news. Carefully watch through the reports, seeing all the accomplishments this small army is receiving here – how mercs are saving you, helping you, being a bunch of fucking saints even though their commander spends too many hours harassing an adorable little civilian in her house, doing nothing but making you hot and bothered and uncomfortable at the same time.

You want him to leave.

You want him to stay here, with you.

He fixed your sink and now you can do your skincare routine with actual time put in. Everything that stands on the white ceramic is bought by him and you would rather throw up than rely so much on someone you don’t really know, but you don’t have a choice. The cafe is closed, and every other job opportunity is either worse or not going to make any difference in your situation – and with how often König shows up, demanding attention and immediate acceptance of his gifts, you don’t want to know what he will do if he finds out you are trying to run away from him again.

You don’t anymore, of course. You’re a smart girl, you’re a good girl, the best ever. You don’t understand your own feelings, nothing you experience feels right, but you do know that having him around is comfortable. It’s nice, really, you want to like him so much, but you are too tired to feel anymore. Luckily, his feelings are intense enough not to demand anything from you – his love is big enough for the two of you.

— Why are you so quiet, Schatz?

He hugs you from behind, hands on your waist pulling you closer to him. He is warm, body temperature is almost unhealthily hot. In full gear, as always, you never ever saw him without it – even when you’re more intimate together, the only thing you can see is either the lower half of his face, scars on his mouth, and clearly shaved jaw with multiple razor cuts, or his dick – and you prefer not to look at it.

— You fixed my sink. When?

Hands are keeping you securely in place, not allowing you to move even for an inch. He isn’t wandering, at least, not leaning under your clothes. You’d feel ashamed for wearing washed-put shorts and some weird T-shirt you pulled out of the laundry, but you don’t want to turn each of his visits into a special occasion, especially considering how chaotic it is. You want to wear that really nice lingerie he brought to you – all soft and expensive fabrics, laces, and too much open skin – but you are too creeped out by the fact that he knows your exact size. At least with homely clothes, you don’t have to worry about being too seductive, too inviting and provocative.

His hands are still squeezing and playing with your tummy. It feels like he relishes in every aspect of your body, no matter how perfect or imperfect it is – and his touches, hungry and almost agonizing in their desperation and greediness, are flattering. You never had anyone so utterly into you – never had any romantic partner who would treat you like their greatest possession. You want to feel like a real person, not just a romantic interest or object of obsession, but…god, his hands are warm and he treats you right and the loneliness of your life is worse than anything you could handle.

— Few days ago. Had free time after a mission.

He has an awful lot of free time for someone his rank. Sometimes he disappears for a few days straight and comes back only to be even more hungry with your body. He never spends the night, but always finds some time to burst into your apartment, look at what else he can change to make your life a bit easier – he broke one of your favorite tea cups and bought you a set of new ones, he threw away every old dish plate you had from the previous tenant and bought you a bunch of shiny silvery ones – things that made you feel even worse about yourself because oh god, why do you need to rely on him to but you the most basic fucking stuff.

— You shouldn’t have done it. I can take care of it.

Your mouth tells lies that even you don’t believe in.

— It was leaking. Wanted to do something nice for you, Liebe.

My love – you read the translations of a few phrases he is using towards you. German is hard and unforgiving, you are screaming at that damn owl for fucking up your pronunciation again as you desperately try to find something to fill your day without a job or worries about money. You are going to the store multiple times a day, buying milk, cookies and salt – all separately, just to do something. It fells like lockdown again, a desperate attempt not to go crazy by being stuck in 4 walls.

You think – this is what drives housewives from American sitcoms to use recreational drugs and too many antidepressants.

König thinks – you look so perfect like this. Almost like his perfect little housewife, hands are clinging to the kitchen counter and eyes desperately darting from side to side. He can practically smell your fear and it makes him go feral – he was a good fucking person, his mutter taight him to be a good boy and his father beated how a real man should behave into him. Yet he relishes in the fact that his weak, fragile girlfriend is shaking in his hold, like a kitten almost. He wants you to feel safe with him, but…well, he can indulge in himself a bit. After all, he does sacrifices everything for his service, right? And deserves a bit of pleasure after a hard day of killing terrorists.

— Thank you, but…please, tell me before you are doing anything in my apartment. I would have just called my landlord.

You wouldn’t because even when all of your rent debts is paid off and you don’t have anything else that you owe to the owner of the apartment, you still don’t have to see her disappointed and angry face. You had this leaking sin for three months already and just started to live around it – it was normal, there was some comfort in that brokenness. Now there isn’t one, and you just feel guilty for being scared of a man just because he probably stole your second set of keys and decided to fix it.

— When we’ll move to our own home, you won’t have to worry about asking permission from some Arschloch. You could change the sink or a couch every other day if you want to.

“When we’ll move to our own home”

Such a simple phrase, really. König’s hands are slowly caressing your lower tummy, his erection already thrists into your ass through the fabric of your shorts and you immediately feel the heat rising in your body. You might not understand if you like him or not, but your body certainly craves his touch – craves the comfort and pleasure that being his provides.

Such a simple phrase that fills you with dread. Living with him, under one roof – living in his country even though you never been to Austria and can barely learn the language. Living with him even though you don’t know what to answer if someone asks you about your relationship.

Such a simple phrase that König wants to turn into reality. You, barefoot because of course he would build a house with floor heating, he won’t have his wife slipping on some slippers while he is away and hurting herself, in the kitchen that he would made for your desires and height – he isn’t much for cooking and if you are not also, he’d search for a housekeeper – looking at some weird Austrian dish that you can made for him when he comes home. Perfect family, just like his mother told him he has to make – just like his father was never able to.

He is a simple man and if you won’t want to play along with his little housewife fantasy then, well, you’d have to eventually. König hates the thought of hurting you – but he also hates a lot of things about himself and a bit of pain won’t add to much. He could handle you being upset, easily. He could handle whatever you’d throw at him – literally.

— I don’t think I can move in with you.

— Why?

— I’m not even Austrian. Don’t think I can just go and live in your country like this.

— You can get a visa through marriage. It would be easy, soldiers have privileges.

He still was a part of Austrian special forces – even if his service was long ago paid to KorTac, it doesn’t mean that he just gave away all of his documents and privileges that it gave him. There are a bit of things he can do without looking at the law too much – and giving you proper citizenship is one of them.

Of course, it would also mean you can’t possibly leave him without destroying your new life once again, but…he likes it as a feature. Insurance that you won’t just run away as soon as the opportunity strikes.

— Marriage is too fast, no? I mean…

— You don’t want to be with me! — No. Yes. I…I mean, we can’t get married right now.

— We are not doing it right now, Schatz. I still yet to find a good ring around here.

— I don’t want a ring. I…I can’t marry you, even in a couple of months! We barely know each other, we…we talked about it, you promised that we would go slow…

Oh.

And now you’re crying in his hold, tears smearing your face as you are trying to make him let go of you. He can’t have that, he won’t have that – he just got out of his office. countless hours spent in searching for the biggest hideout in this city. Horangi fed him with reports of various sightings, Hutch is already halfway on breaking another data package they got from the last mission and, if anything, it felt like another week or two in here – and he could finally get that sweet, sweet leave.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t had any breaks in a year already – only a week when he got shot in the side and spent a couple of days laying in the medical, still screaming at the recruits for being so fucking unprofessional – so much, in fact, that he had to get out of the bed early and spend two weeks as an instructor for any of those useless fuckers. Maybe, after this mission, he could take a month or so off – just so he could spend more time with you. Honeymoon and a future wedding do sound fun if he could make you come around before the end of his deployment here. He wouldn’t want to kidnap his future wife like some asshole, after all.

— How slow do you want me to go, meine Mädchen?

There isn’t a right answer to this question. He doesn’t ask whether or not you even want to marry him – just when. Your perfect answer would be no, I don’t know, give me a break and let me figure myself out for at least a dozen months so you could come to your senses and move to some distant country on the other side of the globe.

But he holds you close, his erection is mere inches away from penetrating your body – he is grinding into your ass shamelessly, using the softness of your thighs as his own sex toy – and your mind becomes dizzy. Every time he touches you, his fingers trail on your delicate skin, and you feel dumb. No thought, head empty, only desire to back your hips against his crotch and move a little.

— I don’t know. Just not…not like this.

— Then like what? How long should I wait?

A month won’t be enough.

Even half a year won’t be enough to process your feelings.

— I don’t know.

You want to say yes, but you don’t want to be the one to decide. Having responsibility is too much, and being the one in charge of yourself isn’t something you really want. Maybe, you should just agree. Maybe, you don’t have enough energy to process this.

— We don’t have much time here, Liebe. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but…

His hands are gripping you even closer – his fingers are shaking almost, and you’re scared of seeing this man being so weak for you, but there isn’t anything you can do to help him. Your fingers are softly caressing his – you doubt that he can feel much under his gloves, but you want to be at least attentive. You don’t want him to feel bad, to think that you are ungrateful for everything he has done to help you. Maybe you’re afraid of making him mad – or, maybe, you want him to be closer to you. Maybe, you want him to like you more. Maybe…

— I will probably be there for another week or two. Mission will be over sooner than we thought.

— You will leave?

König wants to lie to himself that you feel sad about it. He can hear the pain in your voice, the way your fingers are shaking on top of his. He hates being weak, scared, he purged everything that was liable in his body before he even became the colonel – but he stays here, in this run-down kitchen corner of your apartment, looks at your delicate body in his hands and feels weak.

Not that you will say no, that you can run away. He is terrified of himself because he knows that he won’t take no for an answer. He will get you out of here, haul you on his shoulder like some sort of trophy, and make you his no matter the kicking and screaming he will receive. And he doesn’t want to let himself go around you – to lose control.

— Not without you.

— I don’t want to leave.

He squeezes your waist one more time, letting go of your body. He can be patient – he needs to concentrate on the mission at hand anyway, not being all lovey and romantic with you. He may give you space – a few centimeters at best, maybe, if you would a good girl and give him everything he asks for.

— You can have a week to think. But I will be back, verstehen?

You nod and he turns your head to the side, kissing you. He has to lean down to reach your lips, he is too fucking desperate to taste you on his tongue when he moves it further down your throat. It’s sloppy, unexperienced, the technique is basically non-existent but you clung to the counter and moan as he slides his hands down your shorts, finding your center. It’s moist, slippery, welcoming two of his fingers with ease – and then he withdraws it immediately.

You whine when he stops moving, and your pussy is clenching around nothing when he chuckles. You’re weak, fragile, desperate and delicate – he isn’t used to handling stuff like you, but he will make sure to find all the bubble wrap in the world to use on you. He’ll be your perfect husband – if only you would give him a chance.

— Gather your things, lamm. Don’t bring too much, you’ll find better things in Austria.

— But…

— You’ll like it, I promise. Do you trust me?

— N…no.

— You will.

He leaves you in your apartment after a few minutes of just…looking at you. Eyes wandering on your shaking body, fear and desire mixing on your face – he is soft with you, but you know that this softness comes with a responsibility that you could not handle.

You went to the bathroom to wash your face and calm down a little bit – everything in your body begged you to run after him and scream for him to take you right here and then – and you look at the sink. That fucking sink.

*** Maybe, you shouldn’t have had this conversation with him so late in the evening – you decided to go out of your apartment to clean your head.

Maybe, he shouldn’t have fixed your sink because when you didn’t have to think about problems in your apartment, you actually had time and energy to go out at night again.

Maybe, he shouldn’t have left you here is such disarray – maybe, if you had actually fuck that night, you wouldn’t have the strength to venture into creepy alleys and pass through crowds of weird, scary people.

Maybe…

— Stand right here, missy.

— Saw you with that asshole in the hood a while ago. How does it feel to betray your country?

— I thought our women knew better than whoring themselves with foreign scum.

— She can have him to come to us.

— Think he would come to get his slut?

— He’d have to. All hostages are good in our situation.

Maybe, if you won’t tell him to at least wait before making you his, you wouldn’t get into the hands of terrorists that he was supposed to fight.

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #yandere konig #yandere male

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busycloudy · 10 months

Note

HIIII HOW R U i saw ur 100 follers event and went: OMG UESS LETS SEND IN A ASK

So Can u do romantic chenya hcs or fic on a reader who is bffs with leona but chenya is like actively trying to rizz reader up? Pls twll me if this doesnt make sense and feel free to delete this if ur not in the mood for it :D

Oh ans pls make it gender neutral but female is fine too tyy and make sure to take care of urslef :D

Thanks for asking red! im doing good👍 I loved the idea and writing this, so I hope you enjoy!(I'm not sure if I did this correctly so if I didn't I'm truly sorry!)

A Jealous Cat

• Reader is gender neutral and goes by they/them pronouns

• Ft: Chenya and Leona

• Tw: None

• A fluffy and crack(?) fanfic

• Chenya and/or Leona might be a bit ooc

• Hope ya enjoy! ______________________________________________________________

You and Leona were best friends. Ever since you came to NRC you became friends with Leona at some point, but also a certain cat started to talk to you more. This was Chenya of course! When the two of you first met in the Heartslabyul maze you didn't talk much, but when you and Leona started to become better friends Chenya started to hang out with you more and more, and became a bit clingy to. It wasn't so often when Chenya left Heartslabyul, but for some reason he did a lot more. You would always find his arms on your shoulders, or his tail wrapped around your waist. Especially when you was with Leona he would do this. You were talking to Leona about what Ace and Grim did this morning until you felt a sudden weight on your shoulders. "Boo!" Chenya grinned ear to ear. You just simply sighed, used to his antics by now, and continued talking to Leona about what happened. "Why do you always hangout with this feline? Y'know, I'm much more paw-some, and energetic at that" Chenya interrupted again, wrapping his tail around your leg. You could see Leona slightly scowl, and at that Chenya's grin grew wider, maybe even sticking his tongue out to, but of course you were unaware of this. "C'mon Herbivore, let's get away from this pampered prince" Leona attempted to take you away but Chenya interfered. "Last time I checked Kingscholar you were a prince. Although, I don't recall me being one" Chenya had a small grin on his face. "It won't hurt if we stay with Chenya a bit longer Leona" You said. Leona mumbled "Fine" and you could hear the reluctance in his voice. You and Chenya then started talking. You'd sometimes go back to talking to Leona, but Chenya always found a way to get your attention back. When you and Chenya talked his face slowly got closer to yours, he always made teasing or flirty remarks. Wait...He was...Flirting with you!? The moment he said another flirty remark you instantly became flustered. What was you supposed to do in this situation!? You turned back around to Leona to try and get your mind off of this and started to talk. Chenya let the two of you talk for a moment, his head resting on the top of yours. Eventually Leona left, but before he did so he gave Chenya a quick glance, then finally leaving. As some days past you and Chenya got along more and more, eventually telling each other your feelings, and Leona supports your relationship. ______________________________________________________________

A/N: I think Leona would be a bit protective of you when around Chenya at first, but when you and Chenya's relationship gets stronger he would have trust in Chenya. Maybe a little frenemy thing going on? We love a protective and supportive bestie <3

Hope you liked it red! And again, I'm truly sorry if this is not what you wanted!

(Forgive me for my lack of cat puns)

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #chenya x reader

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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months

Note

Kuai Liang/Harumi x fem reader who is really dense and doesn’t realize the two are attracted to her. So dense the two of them have to spell it out for her cause no amount of flirting is getting through her head.

sfw or nsfw I really don’t care.

NONNY I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS WE NEED SOME HARUMI CONTENT! Also enjoy my totally original and not punny at all title

Pyromance

Kuai Liang (Scorpion) x Harumi Shirai x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, fluffy stuff, some flirting, reader being oblivious

A/N: Given that there's only a small tidbit of info on Harumi in Liu Kang's timeline, I'm going off of what little is mentioned in-game and on Wikipedia. Also deadass I want a mandarin duck so fucking bad.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You weren't sure why you were born the way that you were. But when a man with glowing eyes showed up at your crappy little cabin in the mountains, saying he was a god? Yeah, only you would have that kind of interaction.

You didn't believe him until he displayed his powers with fire and explained to you that your powers were only a danger to you.

Yes, powers. You had something called pyromancy, you could summon flames or heat things with your very mind and hands.

So when this "Liu Kang" told you about a clan in Japan called the Shirai Ryu? And that they would welcome you with open arms? You were hesitant to accept.

On one hand, your powers were dangerous, and if you continued to slip up you'd wind up burning your own cabin down, cause a wildfire or... hurt someone. That last one was your greatest fear.

But on the other hand? You'd never even been outside Montana. And Liu Kang wanted you to fly across the world to friggin' Japan? The thought scared you shitless.

You gave him your word that you would think it over for two days. Liu Kang offered to bring someone to you to explain how the clan worked, and you accepted the offer. Perhaps hearing from someone from there would help your decision along.

Liu Kang returned in a ball of fire, alongside him was a woman dressed in a gold and crimson kimono, her long, silky black hair hanging down past her shoulders, twin katanas slung from her obi.

This was Harumi Shirai, for whom the clan was named. Her husband, the Grandmaster of their clan, Kuai Liang was indisposed with new recruits, as was his younger brother Tomas.

She stayed with you, explaining the nuances of their clan and how open-minded they were to your situation. They offered to allow you to bring your comforts (which were admittedly few. You were a bit of a recluse out of necessity due to your powers.) to their compound if you accepted.

She was a beautiful woman, and her words and voice put your nerves at ease.

Of course, two days later. You accepted.

You found yourself in a bit of a culture shock, certainly. But true to Harumi's word, the Shirai Ryu were accepting of you in a way you never anticipated. Training with Kuai Liang allowed you to feel... normal. You'd never felt normal a day in your life. It was nice, to feel so in-place where you always were an enigma before.

Harumi and Kuai were very warm to you (pun intended!) as time went on and your skills flourished. You weren't one for combat, but you excelled in using your powers for defensive stances. When Harumi began teaching you to use her katanas (such an honor) she and Kuai were proud and impressed you used your flames now so effortlessly to ignite the blades without melting it.

To congratulate your progress, they had a custom blade made for you. You were honored that they accepted you so wholly and you found yourself wondering if you truly wanted to return to rural Montana after learning of all of the wonders you'd been blind to before.

What you never really realized though, was that Harumi and Kuai would often take time to spend with you, speak with you about things not related to the clan or your training.

Kuai would ask about your life, your hobbies. When you admitted you liked flowers, he gifted you two potted spider lilies.

Their alien appearance immediately enamored you, as you'd never seen them before, their bright scarlet colors catching the eye and brightening up your room.

And of course, with Harumi... She would join you in the baths. In Japan it was fairly common of course, just not as traditional as what was built in the Shirai Ryu compound.

You were never one for insecurities and Harumi loved that about you. In the baths you would talk about anything that would come to mind, and she would often find herself drawn to your hair, of all things. She adored touching it and putting the shampoo and conditioners in it for you, and combing it out. The color and feel of it beneath her fingers quickly became a favorite.

But despite all of this you were completely, frustratingly and blissfully unaware that Harumi and Kuai Liang were in fact romantically interested in you. Their little gestures were so obvious, it even had Tomas facepalming when nobody was looking because of how painful it was to watch you not even recognize their obvious intent to court you.

It became a topic of hushed gossip and side-betting amongst the clan, wondering who would crack first, or when--if ever--you realized what they were doing.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

"I swear... She's so sweet... but so dense!" Harumi laughed, the back of her hand over her forehead as she laid on their bed.

Kuai Liang shook his head with a smile as he undid his robes, leaving his torso bare as he looked at his wife. He shared her humorous exasperation with your oblivious nature, but still found it endearing.

Kuai knelt on the bed and leaned over Harumi, giving her a soft kiss to her lips as she sunk her fingers in his dark hair, tugging it free of its tie; allowing the dark strands to fall around his face as he smiled down at her.

"Perhaps it is time we drop the subtlety, my love." Kuai said softly, resting on his elbow as he looked down at Harumi.

"Do you think we should?" She hummed, trailing her knuckles across his jawline, reaching up with her fingertips to gently trace the scar going down his face.

"I don't see why not. Otherwise we will be performing this dance for some time." He grinned.

"Kuai, what if she isn't interested?" Harumi sighed sadly, her brows raising in concern.

"Then we respect her wishes and accept her friendship instead. I would be glad for her companionship either way." He said simply.

Harumi's beautiful, Cupid's bow lips curled into a smile.

"You're right. Either way, having her close is a blessing. One we will accept no matter the context. We can speak with her in the morning."

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You were standing beneath the sakura and plum blossom trees surrounding the sizeable pond in the compound. It was your favorite spot to be because it had the least traffic and the small bridge going over it was perfect for watching the koi as they danced beneath the water.

But your favorite place to sit was beneath the trees near the shoreline. Due mostly in part to the small flock of Mandarin ducks that called the compound home, the little feathery critters took a shine to you, especially after you nursed one of their flock back to health when her poor little leg got broken.

That and, well. They knew you had grapes at the ready, plus a small container of oats you'd feed them out of your hand.

The Mandarin ducks were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen; the males' colors were like a silky orchestra of hues and cute little plumages that admittedly looked a tad silly, but still looked beautiful. The females were lacking in the colors the males had, but you adored their little spots and speckles.

Oftentimes, you'd wind up with one of the younger males cuddled comfortably in your lap, tucking himself under his wings to nap on the silk of your robes while you stroked his feathers.

And it was here that Harumi and Kuai Liang found you, sitting beneath the trees, blossoms that had been shaken loose by the breeze falling around you like a beautiful rain as you fed the ducks from your palm, laughing to yourself as their little bills tickled your hand.

They stood there, merely watching for a few moments until Kuai nudged Harumi on, and they slowly made their way to you as a young female duck hopped into your lap, trying to snitch some extra snacks from you.

Their footsteps were light, to avoid frightening your feathery little companions as they closed on you.

Harumi spoke your name softly and you looked up with an abashed smile. "Oh! I would get up, but..." You looked done at the female water fowl in your lap, as she snuggled down, her tail feathers wiggling contentedly.

Kuai couldn't help but chuckle as he and Harumi sat next to you. The little birds seemed so fond of you. It was cute.

He slowly reached out to try and pet the female in your lap, but she puffed up and made a rather angry noise that plainly said "back off", which made you and Harumi giggle.

"It would seem your charm does not work on all women, my love." Harumi smirked.

"Yes, yes, that is painfully obvious." Kuai replied with a smile, shaking his head as the duck turned back around in your lap, accepting your soothing pets to her feathers.

"Is something the matter?" You ask them curiously.

Harumi and Kuai Liang exchange a long, silent glance which slightly concerns you.

"Kuai and I discussed something last night." Harumi told you.

"Okay..."

"And we both decided to ask you something." Kuai continues. "You understand the things we do for you? Not the training, but the smaller things."

"Like... My sword? And the flowers?" You say, your brows furrowing slowly.

"Yes." Harumi chuckles. "Do you understand why we did those things for you?"

You tilt your head. "To... be... nice?"

Harumi and Kuai chuckle together, grinning at one another at how sweetly oblivious you were. They look back at you and Kuai talks. "And you don't have any other inclination, dear? At all?"

Other inclination? What could--did he just call you dear? What could he be talking...

Your eyes get big and you cover your mouth in sheer horror, your face flushing in embarrassment as you awkwardly look away.

"Oh."

Harumi giggles and has to cover her mouth and cough to chase it away, Kuai Liang merely shakes his head and chuckles softly.

"We've been trying to court you. You're a wonderful person, an amazing woman." Harumi says, giving you a soft look. "We've both been rather... Smitten with you, as of late. We'd hoped you'd realize what our intentions were on your own, but..."

You cover your face and make an embarrassed squeak. "Oh, my god..."

"However." Kuai Liang said, holding his hands up. "We both agreed last night that if you do not reciprocate, we will still gladly accept your friendship."

Your hands drop and you look at them, the surprise evident on your face as you watch Harumi smile at you, her hand slipping into Kuai's.

"We hold nothing but respect for whatever decision you shall make." She told you.

You couldn't believe it. It just seemed so unreal..so unreal that these two amazingly strong, wonderful, beautiful people took a look at you and decided that they wanted you?

You. Of all the people they could possibly pick? A little country bumpkin from Montana?

You look down, petting your little duck friend as she contentedly snuggled you, a couple of her flock-mates snuggling your left thigh.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"...I... I'm open to trying?" You finally say, giving them a shy smile.

Harumi and Kuai's tense postures dropped as they both smiled widely, and Harumi leaned in to kiss your cheek happily.

"We will do our best to prove everything we mean to you." She swears.

Kuai Liang moves towards you and leans in to do the same, his hand brushing your cheek. "We will do everything--"

He was cut off by the female duck in your lap turning around, her tail wiggling and her feathers fluffing up as she opens her mouth and makes more angry noises, making Kuai lean away from you before she is angered any further.

"Ah... The only woman you cannot charm!" Harumi teased as the two of you broke out laughing; whilst Kuai was still unable to give you the small display of affection his wife had given you, all because of the feathered menace that took residence in your comfy lap.

He merely glared at the offensive little bird in your lap as she snuggled back down, staring Kuai back right in the eye as if to say "try me".

#scorpion mortal kombat 1 #kuai liang x you #kuai liang x reader #harumi shirai #harumi shirai x reader #kuai liang x harumi #kuai liang x harumi x reader #harumi shirai x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #scoprion x you #scorpion x reader #kuai liang scorpion #🌙 answered

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centipedelightning · 1 year

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a skeleboys x reader whose gut reaction when the get spooked is to sort of pull their boy back to them not caus they don't trust him their just used to being a protector.

(I request undertale and underfell plus dealers choice :D)

Thanks love your stuff by the way

Waaaa how cute! Ugh I love dealers choice it just means I can write my pookies (today that means the swapfell bros). Yk I always feel bad bc I feel like I write too little. I am used to writing research papers where I just get to the point so creative writing is so painful.

| Ut/Uf/Sf Skelebros x protective reader || super vaguely romantic for a few || fluffy |

Cw/Tw: None

Sans

He’s blushing

I imagine this would be the kind of situation where you two were near some people that got in a physical altercation and you pulled him back. That kind of unconscious instinct both surprises and Greatly flatters him.

He’ll go all wide-socketed and just look at you like you’ve grown extra eyes.

Once the y’all are away from whatever situation spooked you, he’ll start making little jokes non-stop. It’s terrible.

“what was that?” “Wdym what was that?” “were you trying to protect me??” “Tf are you talking about??” “you need a new nickname. i didn’t realize you’re such a guard dog.” “Sans what are you talking about”

Sans tries to keep the energy equal in a relationship. Not one-to-one type of stuff where if you do one chore one day he’ll do it the next, as much as if you put in a lot of work he’ll try to treat you or do something that shows that he knows you did it and appreciates it. So now that he knows you’ll jump to his defense at the drop of a hat, he makes it his mission to Not let you do that. He is flattered of course but he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.

In smaller situations where you just got spooked by something he’ll try to calm you down with jokes and puns.

Papyrus

BLUSHING AND STUTTERING AND AND AND

He’s so flattered he’s just a mess.

Papyrus is the type of person that will jump to anyone’s defense immediately, so you reciprocating the energy means everything to him.

He doesn’t spook very easy, so you’ll probably be the jumpier person. No matter what gets you, big or small, you just randomly pulling him behind you has him blushing hard enough to glow.

Emotional bioluminescence never works in a skeleton’s favor.

I fear that you don’t realize what you brought onto yourself though.

If you weren’t already, Papyrus is staying up planning you an incredibly detailed workout plan to make sure you are capable in combat.

“YOU SHOULD BE PREPARED TO FIGHT IF YOU ARE SO DESPERATE TO DEFEND MY HONOR NYEH-HEH-HEH”

The finalized workout regimen is planned exactly to your physical limitations. Almost to a concerning degree… did he do a secret medical exam or something??

No for the record, but he wouldn’t say no matter what the answer.

Red

Red is pretty jumpy himself so his hackles are already raised as he is trying to drag you behind him, but You dragged him back first??? You want to protect Him???

Swoon

He’s swooning

He still wins this nonexistent battle for the right to protect the other, so he manages to get you close to him. Sorry not sorry but Red’s protective instincts are hard to match, let alone beat.

If the situation was severe enough that you two would need to leave, once y’all do he’s all over you. Laughing and joking about how you’re trying to play guard dog.

He does try to check in a make sure you know you can depend on him yada yada. Please reassure him that you know and whatnot.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or feels insecure of course—hell one of his many types is strong and forthcoming—he is just also used to being the protector and wants to make sure you don’t burden yourself.

Edge

Utterly flabbergasted.

That’s all.

Confused even

Situationally you have two options: either you startled at something he also recognizes as a “threat” or you jump at something that just happened to scare you. Both of these options end with him looking at you like you are some combination of a deity and an oddly shaped cat. Confusion, wonder, adoration, a touch of horror—you get the picture.

More specifically, for the smaller option he will just straight up ask you wtf, but for the “big threat” option he gloats. Loudly.

He is about to get very loud.

Imagine something along the lines of “NYAHAHA YES FEAR ME AND MY HUMAN HAHAHA”

Edge is a skeleton that loves his theatrics what can I say.

You will also be put through a training regimen btw. It’s about the same as Papyrus’ just with more sparring. You did this to yourself.

Indigo

I’m so sorry but Indi picks fights.

He does

He’s shameless

Maybe you can try to physically pull him away from needling randos? Then again you jumping to his defense might just make him more confident and Worse.

You won’t get a workout regimen out of this guy though! Little victories.

for literally any other time where something just makes you jump and you grab him instinctually, he’ll play into it. You should tell him as soon as you can if that’s something you don’t want.

But he will dramatically jump into a fighting stance the second you start to tug him towards you.

He is always ready to defend his human’s honor.

Cash

He let’s you drag him back with very little resistance.

In all honesty he finds you jumping to his safety quite amusing, especially if it was from something small that just happened to make you jump and grab him with you.

If there’s ever a situation where you aren’t in immediate danger but near some (like some strangers getting into an altercation) Cash will absolutely allow you to do whatever you want.

He’s never gonna let either of y’all get into real danger, so as long as that doesn’t happen you are free to your instincts to try and protect him.

Hell, you might not even need to grab him with how much he loves to touch or hang off you. No sense of personal space truly.

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br4inr0tx · 6 months

Note

headcanons for dating sheriff newlon?

Yes ofc! Since I just watched the movie I have a pretty good grasp on him already, and I’m excited to write for him! I’m from Massachusetts so idk..I kind of resonate with this movie lol.

Tw - MASSIVE THANKSGIVING 2023 MOVIE SPOILERS, manipulation, loss of loved one, cannibalism(?).

Eric Newlon…

• Sheriff Eric Newlon. The good looking, friendly and dependable guy. He loves those who are close to him, and does anything he can to help a person out. He’s honestly, a great guy.

• Though as we all know, he has an intense sense of revenge from a woman he loved very much.

• No matter how you identify he at first would use you as a coping mechanism for Amanda’s death. It might be the smallest thing, like the same name, same laugh, same eyes, same personality..something about you just reminds you of a good time back in his life, and he can’t seem to let it go.

• The guy is manipulative, and it’s easy for him to pull the strings. If you don’t already like him, he can easily make you fall in love and join his side with the snap of his fingers.

• He’s genuinely charming, down-to-earth and caring anyway. Why wouldn’t you want to be with him?

• I’d assume you’d help him get through cases and cope with his loss in return. If he REALLY likes you that might not matter, but if it’s a genuine connection just someone caring about his well being is enough.

• I think Eric would also like someone who’s willing to talk about revenge. He’s bottled his feelings for so long, so someone that is willing to listen to and discuss harsher topics he’d enjoy; mostly for his own comfort

• He showers you in compliments pretty often. Sometimes he even babies you. It’s just a habit he can’t help but indulge in!

• Eric helps through hard times too. Though, watch out if it’s an issue with another person. I can’t guarantee they’ll make it out alive, especially considering how hellbent Eric is on the whole "revenge" gig. (I need a dollar for every time I say revenge.)

• He’s a pretty creative guy as we know. I’m not just talking about kills either. Dates and gifts are very creative and thoughtful, within reason an budget of course. I’d like to think giving gifts is as simple as you’d think either. He’d be the type of boyfriend to hide it in a funny spot or specific area for you to have fun finding.

• So, I’m not sure if this is just an act in the movie to get Jess in his side, but he seems really protective. Not just because he’s a cop either. If anyone talks shit about you he’d be one of the first people to stand up for you even if you don’t need it. Golden Retriever boyfriend mentality.

• Now..considering the more John Carver side of things..

• He wouldn’t kill you, he’d just let you enjoy the show. You’re technically a part of this now.

• Though be weary. Even if he acts nice and does nice things for you, he’s EXTREMELY hostile (pun intended) in his John Carver persona. Don’t do anything funny like escaping if he chases you, he won’t hesitate to hurt you just to put you back in place. Sometimes living with the pain is more harsh then just dying, remember that.

• Even if John Carver is a bit mocking, it’s in no way fake love. He’s simply giving you a happy thanksgiving with a glass of revenge, for the both of you.

• Also, remember how I mentioned he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone that harms you? Well, they’ll be guests at the table on the livestream! Now everyone’s together, on the day of togetherness.

• Overall, you fill in the void he was missing after Amanda’s passing. That’s not to say he doesn’t appreciate you for you, I’m saying that you keep him from going absolutely insane and killing everyone in Plymouth there and then.

#horror #thanksgiving movie #thanksgiving #Eric Newlon #john carver #John carver killer #headcanons #slasher #slasher headcanons

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snakewithawitchhat · 2 months

Text

Sm♡t Alphabet

Featuring Wukong

I saw some people doing this and thought it was fun! So, for the record, THIS IDEA ISN'T MINE. I WISH I COULD GIVE CREDIT, BUT IDK WHO STARTED ITTT :(((

Tw for… well… smutty themes (stay safe! <3)

Aftercare— He's amazing at it. He'll give you kisses, praises and compliments, ask if you're okay and if he was too rough, and even rub your back. Heck, he'll cuddle you for as long as you want. He'll treat you like you're his queen/king/ruler

Body part— Wukong's favorite body part of yours is your thighs and neck. He loves covering them both in bite marks and hickies. Plus, your thighs make such a nice pillow. And he loves the way you sound when he touches them both.

Cum (anything they like to do with it)— He hates using protection. He will if you want him to, of course, but he doesn't like it. He wants to be as feral and close to you as possible. If you're fucked too dumb to protest against it, he's most definitely cumming inside you. After, he'll probably apologize, though.

Dirty Secret— He loves it when you take control and degrade him. He'd hate to admit it, but when you're bouncing on his hips, panting out dirty things and insults into his ear, it makes his body all tingly and hot.

Experience— He's, like, a bazillion years old! Of course he's experienced! Well… more so in self pleasurable sex, but he's learned a lot and knows how to pleasure you, too.

Favorite position— Anything where he presses against you. He doesn't know any names of them, so you'd have to help him with that, but he loves it when his chest is pressed against your back, your ass up as he pounds into you from behind and buries his face into the back of your neck.

Goofy— He does make the occasional pun or two, but otherwise, he's completely serious. Most of the time, his mind is so fuzzed with need that he rarely even speaks.

Hair (carpet match the drapes?)— he's very well groomed. He showers often, thoroughly brushes his fur, and makes sure he's completely clean before and after the deed.

Intimacy (romance)— He's not very romantic. Not at all. He's often too in the moment and hazy with lust to do anything like that. He will try, though.

Jack off— Whenever you're not there, he'll relieve himself. Most of the time, he buries his face into your sweatshirt or an article of your clothing to finish. He can't without your scent.

Kink— He keeps these completely secret, but it's easy to see he has them. He has a thing for degradation, of course. As well as breeding and primal play. He loves the idea of hunting you down and putting a bun in the oven.

Location (favorite place to do it)— Anywhere he can get away with it, he'll do it. Even in public. As long as no one sees you in such a position, he's happy. Most of the time, it's in your or his house, though.

Motivation/turn ons— Just you in general. Your scent, your clothes, your touch. Anything. It happens randomly, most of the time. Although, he loves it when you start up something. If you say something suggestive, he'll be so impatient he can't even wait until you're done with work.

No/turn offs— If anyone gets hurt enough to cry (mentally or physically), he's done. He doesn't want to make you hurt. Unless it's to mark you.

Oral (receiving/giving)— He sucks at giving. Most of the time, he's used to people giving everything to him and begging to. With you, though, he really wants to give you whatever pleasure he can. You'll have to teach him a few things, though.

Pace— Wukong is rough and hard. He'll try to start off slow—He really will—but in the end, he always loses control. You're so soft and perfect and noisy. He can't help it.

Quickie— He hates quickies. He wants to last as long as possible with you! He wants to fuck you for three days straight. Not three minutes!

Risk— He's fine with trying something new. As long as you are, too, of course. You'll have to convince him, though, because he'll hate any position that doesn't include you pressing flush against his body.

Stamina—It's Sun Wukong. He's going to last a VERY long time. He can go for several hours. Probably even days. He'd hate to break you, though.

Toy— Funnily enough, he's jealous as hell about any toys you own. He could do just as much, if not more than those silly things! He likes the vibrator, though. If you use it on him, he'll be a mess in seconds, and if he uses it on you, he loves the noises you make! That's the only toy he can stand. (To my afabs out there—He'll probably let you peg him, though hehehe)

Unfair/teasing— He hates teasing you. He wants to make you cum as much as possible. Over and over. As much as he loves your needy sounds, he loves the screams and breathless gasps that bubble from your throat as he fucks you dumb.

If you tease him, though… oh, he loves that. He can't wait to absolutely demolish you for it later, too.

Volume— He is loud. He'll snarl and grunt and huff and whine. Half of Fruit-Flower Mountain can probably hear him.

Wild Card— He's into thigh-high socks and anything lingerie. Especially if it's something cutesy with bows or animal ears.

X-ray— 10 inches. That's all I'm going to say. Heheh

Yearning (sex drive)— It's high. Very high. It's a shock if he goes without it for a whole day. Now that he has you, he's trying to make up for all those days he didn't.

Zzz (how fast he blacks out)— He doesn't even have to. After one or two rounds, he could still keep going through his day like nothing happened right after. He'll probably sleep beside you, though, because you'll probably be spent.

I should write more smut of this man. I still haven't :,)

IMA DO THIS WITH MACAQUE NEXTTT HEHEHEH

#smut #writing #lmk sun wukong #lmk #sun wukong x reader #x reader #headcannons #lmk headcanon

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venerable-sun · 9 months

Text

Call My Name (Nuada x Reader)

Nuada Silverlance (Hellboy) x Reader

TW: Some slight violence (as to be expected), but otherwise just Nuada being an emotionally-constipated ass

Word Count: ~5400 words

Prompt: I always call you by your title except the one time when you’re in trouble, enemies to lovers, slight hurt-comfort

I stayed up until 3 am writing this, so if you see a typo... no you didn't. Just a reminder that my requests are open so please send them in!

Your ability to get along with just about everyone is something you take a lot of pride in. When you first came under the protection of the BPRD with Red, you had quickly formed many valuable connections, even if you couldn’t call many of them true friends. And when Liz later joined the team, the two of you got on like wildfire (pun intended) almost instantly. Hell, even Manning acts agreeable towards you. You’ve always thought of yourself as a charming person, despite your somewhat off-putting appearance, and your skills in negotiation and peacemaking are unmatched.

That is, until a certain elf-prince came into the BPRD’s custody and put that to the test.

You hadn’t been part of the task team that fought in the Battle of the Golden Army, your… special skills pulling you away from the conflict to mediate between two warring tribes of giants in the Himalayas.

You are an Avian, a mutated human with wings and the ability to speak every language, both human and supernatural, on the planet. Had the two tribes gone to war, it would have been devastating for the entire Asian continent and would have exposed the entire supernatural world. Being deep into the world’s tallest mountains and in the throes of complicated negotiations meant that you had little to no communication to the outside world for weeks, so to say you were shocked to find out that the world had been incredibly close to being destroyed by an ancient army would be an understatement.

Even more shocking was finding out that the BPRD had taken the culprit into custody.

The compound was bustling with activity as you made your way through the long corridors to Manning’s office for your debrief. Familiar faces greeted you as you walked past, some stopping for a moment to ask you about your mission. There were a few who gave you a wide berth, eyeing your wings warily. You had grown used to such looks, knowing that your wings were far from the prettiest things to gaze upon. Avians are an incredibly rare type of mutation, but your specific type even more so. While most had beautiful feathered wings like that of an angel, yours more closely resembled a bat’s.

You unconsciously tuck your wings closer against your back, wishing that there was more room underground to stretch out to your full wingspan more often.

You knock on Manning’s door once before pushing your way in, too tired from your trip to wait for him to call you in. All you want to do is take a long, hot shower and sleep for days.

You’re surprised someone is already sitting there across from the director of the BRPD, and from the tension in his shoulders he isn’t very happy. His head snaps towards you the moment you step into the room, his golden eyes finding yours instantly. His mouth is pulled back into a sneer as he regards you coolly, eyes flicking up and down your form before settling on your wings. Something hardens in his gaze, and he quickly turns his body away from you as if you were not even there.

“Ah, you’ve returned!” Manning greets. “Well?”

“The conflict between the giants has successfully been resolved,” you report, trying hard to ignore the disdain that seems to be radiating from the golden-eyed man. “I doubt they will be so quick to go to arms with each other again.”

Manning hums in approval, settling back into his seat. “I want a full report typed up on my desk tomorrow.” You nod, turning to leave. “Wait, there’s one more thing.”

You eye him warily, your hopes of a quick escape dashed. Manning gestures to the stranger in the room. “This is Nuada Silverlance, Prince of the Bethmoora Clan. He is in our charge for the foreseeable future.” You notice Nuada’s hands tightening into fists at his words. “I’ve assigned you to be his personal guide and companion while he settles into life here.”

“I do not need a guide.” The prince speaks for the first time. His voice is deep and smooth like honey, and you would find it strangely attractive if it weren’t for the fact that he was glaring at you as he spoke. “And I certainly do not want companionship from the likes of her. If I am to be forced to live in this insufferable human prison, then I wish to at least be left alone.”

“You will escort Nuada around the compound,” Manning ignores the silver-haired elf. “And you will help him with anything he needs as well as teach him about human culture.”

Nuada growls, getting to his feet abruptly. “Absolutely not!”

Manning eyes him coolly. “Need I remind you of the reason you're here in the first place. And if you have any hopes of repairing your relationship with your sister, I would recommend you behave and do as we say.”

You stifle a yawn as Nuada growls again, your jet lag really starting to make itself known. The elf turns his angry gaze towards you, rage sparking like molten gold in his eyes. “Am I boring you, human? Maybe a knife to your throat will wake you up.” He threatens.

“Really? Because I don’t see any weapons on you.” You gesture to his empty belt and exaggeratedly look around the office. “Unless you’ve hidden one somewhere. Is the knife here in the room with us?”

Nuada looks like a volcano about to erupt, and you have to stifle a laugh. “That’s enough, (Name).” Manning says. “If you would be so kind as to show Nuada to his room. It’ll be right across from yours.”

Great.

You and the elf-prince exit Manning’s office in silence and stand awkwardly in the hallway. “Okay,” you clear your throat. “It’s this way.”

You walk a few paces before you realize Nuada isn’t following. You sigh, mustering up the last of your remaining energy as you face the still-glaring prince. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here. Hell, I wouldn’t either. But you are, and from what I’ve heard about what happened, there’s much worse places you could be.” You hold up your hand to stop him as he takes an angry step forward. “We can fight about this tomorrow, but I have had a very long day. And I can promise you that of all the people to get assigned to be your chaperone, you could do a whole lot worse than me. So unless you want me to go get Red to be your buddy, I recommend that you follow me to your room.”

With that, you turn and begin walking away again, a small smile pulling at your lips when you hear light, almost-silent footsteps following behind you.

By the time you reach your rooms, your wings are dragging against the ground with exhaustion. “That’s yours, I guess.” You gesture vaguely at the door across from yours. “If you need anything, just knock or find one of the guards. I’m sure they won’t be far.”

Nuada nods stiffly and enters into his room, closing the door solidly behind him. “Good talk,” you sigh. You spend the rest of the evening decompressing from your trip, taking a hot bath and relaxing in bed with a cup of tea, and most importantly, keeping your mind off of the intriguing elf-prince just across the hall from you.

~~~

You’re shockingly unbothered for the entire night, managing to sleep well into the next day. By the time you drag yourself out of bed, it’s shortly before noon and your stomach is making its hunger known.

You dress quickly and go to knock on Nuada’s door. You wait several moments with no response and knock again, louder this time.

“What do you want, human?” Nuada growls, opening the door half-way.

“I thought you might be hungry and figured I could show you to the dining hall.”

The elf narrows his eyes but reluctantly steps out. “If you must.”

You struggle to hide your amusement at the sight of his disgusted face when you get to the bustling cafeteria. Agents roam between full tables and a clamor of voices and cutlery scraping against plates fills the air. Your smile fades when Nuada suddenly goes rigid. You follow his gaze to see Nuala sitting at a table with Abe. Their bodies are angled towards each other, knees knocking together as Abe leans forward to brush a stray hair behind her ear.

Before you can stop him, Nuada is stalking forward, and you struggle to keep up behind him without knocking into anyone with your wings. Nuala gazes up at her brother with a face devoid of emotion while Abe pulls back awkwardly. “Sister, I wish to speak with you privately.”

“Whatever you have to say can be said to the both of us, brother.” She replies evenly. You hang back, unsure of if you should redirect this before the elf-prince causes a scene.

“You really stoop so low as to openly fraternize with a traitor? You would truly embarrass your people this way?” Nuada shoots Abe a withering glare. The fish-man blinks in surprise. “Uhm, excuse me, but-”

“I love Abe, brother. I expect you to respect my choice.” Nuala reaches over and clasps his hand in her own. “And he is far from a traitor.”

“He helps the enemy! He lives amongst them as if they are family!” Nuada hisses.

“They are my family,” Abe replies smoothly. “If you were to let go of your hate, you could see all the good that they do.”

Nuada growls, taking a menacing step forward. “Hey, let’s maybe not do this here, yeah?” You finally butt in, acutely aware that the dining hall has gone completely quiet and everyone’s attention in on you.

The elf-prince turns and stalks away without a word, leaving you struggling to keep up with him once again. He’s already half-way down the hall when you catch up to him, and you reach forward to grab at his wrist. “Nuada, hold on a second-”

“Don’t you dare touch me, you filth!”

You reel back for a moment, shocked at his outburst in one second and enraged in the next.

“And don’t you dare talk to me like that, your highness.” You square up to the prince, matching his angry gaze with your own. “You may be royalty amongst your kind, but that doesn’t give you any right to speak to me in such a manner. I have done nothing but try to help you.”

“I never asked for your help.” Nuada hisses, looming over you in a certain way that you try very hard not to pay attention to. “If you haven’t noticed, I am being held here against my will.”

You soften slightly, feeling slightly bad for him despite yourself. “I know you are. But you tried to wipe out the entire human race- what did you expect to happen? The best you can do now is try and make the most of being here. It really isn’t so bad once you get used to it.”

“I will never accept being a prisoner here.” Nuada growls, whipping around and stalking off in the direction of his room.

You watch him go with a frown, deciding to give him some time to cool off.

“I apologize for my brother,” a soft voice speaks from behind you.

Nuala stands there with Abe standing slightly behind her, a sympathetic look on her face. “He has always been quick to anger, even when we were elflings.”

You give her a lopsided smile, reaching out a hand to introduce yourself formally. “I appreciate the apology, but none is needed, at least not from you.”

You cast a glance in the direction the elf in question disappeared off to. “I feel bad for him, in a way. Even though he tried to commit mass genocide and all.”

“My brother is very passionate when it comes to the preservation of our people.” Nuala sighs. “Unfortunately, his means of acting on them are grossly misguided.”

You leave the two of them to go on their way, heading back into the dining hall to actually eat this time. After making a quick sandwich, you leave with some fruit and bread wrapped in a napkin. You place it in front of Nuada’s door, knocking sharply twice before heading to the training room for some practice.

Only once he’s certain you’ve left does Nuada open his door, stamping down the small twinge of guilt he feels as he picks up the food you’ve left for him.

~~~

Nuada doesn’t leave his room once for the next three days. The only indication you have that he’s still in there is the faint light from beneath the door and the fact that the food you leave for him always quickly disappears.

On the third day, you grow tired of awkwardly hanging around in the hallway debating on knocking on his door and finally do so.

You wait a few moments before knocking again, louder this time.

“You humans are so impatient. I was going to answer.” Nuada gives as way of greeting. “What do you want?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the training room.” You offer with what you hope is a convincing smile. “It’s always empty at this time of day and I figured you might enjoy a change of scenery.”

The prince quirks an eyebrow at you suspiciously but begrudgingly gestures for you to lead the way.

You ask him about his preferred weapon, surprised that he answers your question without malice. He tells you of his prized spear, indulging you in a tale of how it was forged.

You hum in thought before the weapon wall, grabbing a bo staff and handing it to him. “It’s not elven-made, but it’s the closest training weapon we have to what you’re used to.”

Nuada gives it a few test swings, getting used to its weight. While he does so, you unsheath your personal dual swords from their scabbards, examining them closely before deeming them acceptable for the training session.

You settle into a loose fighting stance, shooting the elf a wicked grin. “Ready when you are, princeling.”

He surges forward without warning, immediately going on the offense. You parry his blow easily, following it with a lunge of your own. The sound of metal on metal begins to fill the room as you match each other blow for blow, both of you unable to land a hit on the other. You blink at the sweat threatening to drip into your eyes, searching for any chink in the prince’s otherwise impenetrable stance.

He takes a small step back, presumably to gain momentum for his next attack, but in that moment you spot his weakness. He shifts too much weight into that one foot, and before he can pivot towards you, you’re darting forward with a well-aimed strike to his knee.

He wobbles, off-balanced for a second. That second is all you need, and before he can comprehend it, he’s knocked onto his back with one of your blades pointed at his throat.

He ignores the hand you offer to him, pushing himself to his feet without a word. He can’t help the glimmer of respect he feels for you as you smile at him, finally wiping the sweat from your brow.

You stretch your arms languidly above your head, and he averts his eyes from the sliver of soft skin that becomes visible as your top rides up slightly.

“I haven’t had to work so hard to win against someone in forever.” You say. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“That would be… amenable.”

You grin in victory, pleased at having won two battles today. “Come on, there’s one more place I want to show you while we’re over on this side of the building.”

You lead him to the library, which is almost always virtually devoid of anyone else. The prince can’t completely keep the look of pleasure off his space as he explores the countless titles, pulling some of them to take back to his room with him.

As you bid him goodbye to take a shower, you could swear his gaze lingers on you slightly longer as you turn toward your own chambers.

~~~

Things are slightly different after that day.

Nuada still makes his displeasure at being the BPRD’s prisoner apparent, and he is often cold and grumpy in his demeanor, but he does not direct such harsh words at you again. You continue to train together, slowly learning each other’s fighting styles and testing them with a variety of different weapons. You know Manning isn’t very pleased that you’re allowing the prince to wield a weapon, but the way you see it, it allows him to blow off some steam and that’s a win in your book.

You also begin to spend time in the library together, most of the time just reading your separate books in silence. There’s something oddly… domestic about it, if you would allow yourself to think of it in that way.

Thoughts like these are dangerous though, for as the weeks go by, you begin to find yourself attracted to the silver-haired elf.

You realize the true depth of these feelings with startling clarity one night after you see Nuada smile for the first time. It is small and barely-there, pulling at his lips after he finds a book of elven fairy-tales on a shelf tucked in the very back of the library, but the sight of it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs.

There’s no denying the elf is incredibly handsome, but his smile completely transforms his face from alluring to ethereal. You avert your gaze before he can notice, and resolve to never let your feelings become apartment to him.

Because at the end of the day, you’re still just a human, wings or not.

You struggle particularly hard one evening in the library to focus on the book you’ve chosen, stealing quick glimpses at the elf sitting across from you through your hair.

“You’re staring,” He hums, long fingers flicking to the next page without looking up at you.

“Just thinking.” You say, forcing your attention back to the page in front of you. You read the same sentence four times before getting to your feet, carefully marking your place before setting the book down. “I can’t stand being inside one moment longer,” You announce.

Nuada raises an eyebrow. “I do not believe I am ‘allowed’ to leave the premises, if you weren’t aware.” He comments drily, and you scoff.

“Who said anything about leaving?

Cool wind whips at you as you push open the door to the roof, and you sigh in relief at the open air. Stars twinkle overhead, the compound being far enough from the city lights to be able to see a faint haze of the galaxy spread across the sky.

You allow your wings to stretch to their full span for what feels like the first time in ages, giving a small flap that lifts your feet slightly above the ground for a moment.

You can feel the prince’s eyes on you, and you extend one of your wings towards him. “You can touch it, if you want. Most people are curious.”

You suppress a shiver as his calloused hand swipes experimentally over the skin, not expecting your wings to be so sensitive to his touch. He drags his fingertips over the back, marveling at how a limb so strong could feel so soft. “Have you always been like this?” He asks softly.

“I was born with them, yes.” You say, directing your attention to the stars above your head. “Gave my parents quite a shock, I suppose, seeing as they put me up for adoption immediately after I was born. I was taken in by Professor Bruttenholm, who raised me alongside Red. He taught me that my wings are a gift, a way to do good despite what others may see them as.”

You turn to see Nuada is gazing at you intently. “Others have treated you horribly for your appearance.” He doesn’t say it as a question.

“That’s true,” you smile wryly. “People can definitely be cruel. But they can also be incredibly kind, and while there may be a couple here who will avoid me in the hallways, for the most part the BPRD is my family.”

You meet the prince’s gaze imploringly. “I know you hold significant anger for humanity. And I even understand why. But don’t punish an entire race for the sins of a few. There are many who care a whole lot… like me.” For you.

You don’t say that last part, but you know he understands its implication. Over the course of you speaking, the two of you have somehow gravitated closer to each other. You stare into the elf’s golden eyes, now inches from your own.

Your hands brush together as he draws even closer, and your breath hitches slightly at the electricity that the touch elicits.

“I must admit I have grown rather fond of you,” Nuada murmurs, almost as if he doesn’t even realize. “You have made being here slightly more bearable.”

You huff out a laugh as his warm breath fans across your cheeks. Your eyelids begin to flutter closed as his lips just barely brush against yours. All of the sudden, he yanks himself away, his face a mixture of disbelief and fury.

“You have bewitched me,” the prince hisses, eyes devoid of the warmth they had held just moments ago. “I see your ploy now, witch. You would make me a traitor to my own kind, complacent to stay here forever and allow humanity to corrupt what little of the natural world there is left.”

“Nuada, I-” you stumble in disbelief, reeling from the complete change in his attitude.

“Silence!” He roars, causing you to take an involuntary step back. Gone is any of the tenderness he had directed towards you, replaced with cold, simmering rage. For the first time, you find yourself slightly afraid of him.

"You are nothing but a filthy human with extra appendages,” he spits viciously, and you rear back as if he had slapped you. “And I will always hate you just like the rest of your despicable kind.”

He leaves you on the roof, slamming the door behind him with a bang.

You don’t know how long you stand in the cold, completely dumbfounded by Nuada’s actions. All the progress you’d made with him had vanished in an instant, any hope of him possibly returning your feelings snatched away in the cruelest way possible.

You finally shake yourself out of your shock, reaching up to wipe the silent tears off your cheeks. You suppose that you should have expected this. You’d been foolish to think that you and the elvish prince could even remotely be friends, much less anything more.

You bury your hurt deep, deciding that from now on that you would avoid Nuada at all costs. Manning would just have to find someone else to accompany him around.

You make your way back to your room in a daze, heart twisting as you briefly glance at the door across from yours.

You don’t sleep at all that night, wrapping your wings comfortingly around yourself and shivering from the cold that has seemed to settle itself right against your bones.

~~~

You and Nuada do not speak for a month.

You deliberately avoid his gaze every time you pass each other in the halls, and if he happens to be in the training room or library whenever you are, you leave until he is finished.

By some twisted form of masochism, you spend a lot of time on the rooftop, staring blankly at the horizon.

Life without the elvish prince is boring and monotonous, and you have no idea how you carried out your days before he was there to occupy all your time. It doesn’t help that you’ve barely been given any missions, the few you’re called on only pulling you away from the compound for a few days at a time.

If anyone notices the change in either of your attitudes, they don’t say anything. Nuala often looks at you with sympathy and Liz seems to hang around more despite being constantly busy with the twins, but neither of them address your listlessness.

You’re sitting in the library pretending to read when a lower agent approaches you. “Manning wants to see you in his office.”

You get up with a sigh, already not looking forward to this conversation.

You struggle to keep any emotion from showing on your face when you see Nuada is sitting across from Manning’s desk. A strong sense of deja vu hits you as his gaze meets yours and flicks away just as quickly before you can read anything there. The director of the BPRD clears his throat, obviously having caught the brief exchange.

“There has been a troll sighting not far from here,” Manning directs towards you. “They’re bold, amassing forces so close to our base. I’m sending a large team to go deal with the problem.” He gestures to the elf who is pointedly not looking at you. “Nuada will be accompanying you.”

You immediately open your mouth to protest, your refusal dying on your tongue as Manning holds up a hand to silence you. “The prince has not caused any problems during his stay here and I believe it is time for him to start becoming more involved with our operations. He will be your responsibility while out on the field.”

You grind your teeth so hard you fear they might crack as Manning dismisses you both. You speed-walk out of the office before Nuada can get to his feet, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possibly.

It’s a little hard to do that while in the back of a transport van, which you find yourself seated in the next morning. You do your best to ignore the elf sitting across the aisle from you as you’re jostled along. You grip your dual swords sitting across your lap, trying to keep your mind on the mission ahead.

You’re the first out of the van when it stops, immediately beginning to scan your surroundings. Your group has been dropped off right in front of a dense part of the forest, the trees so close together it's impossible to see between them.

As the rest of the team assembles on the grass, you strap your swords to your back and launch yourself into the air, trying to get a better glimpse into the thicket. You swoop closer to the treetops, but the branches are too thick to see through, and you return to the clearing with no luck.

“I can barely see into there,” you report. “They’ve chosen their hideout well.”

Red claps his hands together, calling everyone closer to him. “We’ll have to split up to cover more ground. Me and Liz will head north-west into the forest. (Name), you and Nuada will go north-east. The rest of you fan out in between.”

Ice settles into your heart as the group disperses, leaving you and Nuada alone. “We’d better get going,” you address the elf for the first time in weeks, not waiting for him to reply before you start walking into the trees.

The two of you hike in silence for some minutes, pushing aside branches and foliage with every step. You grumble quietly to yourself, wishing you could stretch your wings. Nuada stops suddenly, his hand on your wrist and a slender finger pressed to his lips to keep you quiet.

Warmth begins to creep up your arm from where his skin touches yours, but the hair standing up at the back of your head distracts you from it. The sounds of the forest have gone completely silent, leaving behind an eerie ringing that you don’t know is in your head or not.

Nuada pulls you down suddenly, wide eyes meeting your own as an arrow embeds itself in the wood right behind where your head had just been.

“Run,” he growls, and then you’re both taking off through the trees.

Branches whip at your face as you race through the thicket, knobby roots seeming to reach up to try and trip you with every stride.

You scramble to a halt as a troll seems to materialize out of the branches before you, his sharp teeth and red eyes gleaming in the dappled sunlight that manages to filter through the leaves. You draw your swords, preparing for a fight. Your swords meet his in a clash of metal on metal, and you grunt from the exertion. The troll is strong, and your stomach rolls at the stench of his breath as he grins wickedly at you.

“(Name)!” A scream of your name steals your attention just enough to notice the troll that has also been creeping up behind you, but it is already too late.

A hard blow strikes you across the back of the head, and you crumple immediately. An enraged roar and a high-pitched squeal of pain that is suddenly cut off is the last thing you hear before your world completely goes black.

~~~

You wake slowly, head pounding with every beat of your heart.

You blink blearily, the sight of one of the BPRD’s hospital rooms coming into focus. Movement from beside you shifts your attention, and you’re shocked to see Nuada sitting uncomfortably in one of the metal chairs by your bedside.

He is dressed in fresh robes, his silver hair pulled back and a somber look on his face. You gaze at him silently, not trusting yourself to speak for multiple reasons.

“I owe you numerous apologies,” he begins without ceremony. “I was cruel and incredibly unkind. I have no excuse other than my own bigotry and confusion. I did not know how to handle my emotions and lashed out at you as a result.”

You allow him to grab your hand, the same warmth beginning to creep up your arm. You can’t deny that it feels nice, but you don’t exactly want to forgive him just yet.

“I feel… very strong emotions for you.” Nuada says, his face sincere as he looks at you. For once, there is no anger lurking in his sight, and his eyes are golden pools of sunlight. “I did not want to admit to myself what they were at the time, but seeing you hurt proves that I can fight it no longer.” The prince takes a deep breath. “I love you, (Name). And I will spend every day for the rest of our lives making up for the hurt I have caused you, if you would allow me to court you.”

You press your lips to his, the kiss soft and hopeful. He responds immediately, carefully bringing his hand up to caress your cheek and hold you to him. This kiss is everything that your first one should have been, and you pull away reluctantly despite yourself.

“You have a lot of making up to do,” you say with a smile. Nuada smiles back, his entire face lighting up with joy.

“I will make you my queen,” he vows. “You will never want for anything from this day forward.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes at how serious he’s being, reaching forward to intertwine your fingers with his.

“Let’s maybe start with dinner, hm?”

#texts #reader insert #nuada x reader #nuada silverlance #hellboy #hellboy 2 the golden army #enemies to lovers #x reader

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milla984 · 7 months

Text

And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants.

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked.

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock.

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit.

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.”

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.”

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on.

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.”

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure.

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you.

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke.

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name.

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member.

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

“When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud.

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—”

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering.

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you.

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you.

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do.

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #my gifs #milla writes stuff #mentioningmargins #there are references from a couple of other tv shows hidden in this work #feel free to let me know if you can find them #quot “i understood that reference”

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beetleviolet · 1 month

Text

So. Uh. @midwesternvibes I've kinda been spamming your profile lately (my b) buuut I wrote something inspired by this villain Leo analysis, especially your unique perspective on why Splinter made Leo the new leader. Super cool! I hadn't thought about it like that!/gen

I didn't go in a villain direction because YOU ARE LITERALLY KILLING IT I AM SO INVESTED YOU DONT EVEN KNOW BRO!

This is more hurt/comfort. Feel free to ignore or enjoy :)

Tw: arguing, child neglect/emotional neglect, childhood trauma, and reference to suicide, but in reference to Leo's prison dimension stunt so uh. Kind of suicide.

Ironically, it was Splinter's idea.

He wasn't the best father, that much he knew, but he wanted to be better. He couldn't hide from his problems behind a TV screen, not anymore. Not when he had 4 big, big problems that he had caused.

He brought the idea to Michelangelo first, always the most willing for second chances and growth. Orange didn't look as ecstatic as he might have months ago, no, he had grown in those few months, perhaps too much. He studied Splinter for a moment before a small, hopeful smile,

“I'm glad you want to try.” And, well, if Splinter wouldn't do anything for his sons before, he would do everything for them now.

“Go with Leo first.” Splinter tilted his head. He had been planning to go with Purple, the most obviously insecure, or maybe Red, who would accept the affection easily.

“With Blue? Why?”

“Just trust me.” Mikey said, “And be nice!” Be nice. Why wouldn't he be nice? It kind of hurt that his son thought otherwise, perhaps a kind of hurt he deserved.

Blue was slippery. He snuck out of any invitation, like he could smell what Splinter was thinking. Mikey had more than one hushed conversation with him, tucked away in his subway car with the door closed.

Finally, after almost two weeks of trying, Blue agreed to go out for a walk. And that was that.

Leonardo was… abrasive. Obnoxious at best and an egomaniac at worst. It was odd that Orange had suggested that Splinter spend time with Leo, the most confident, and the most well adjusted after the events with the Krang.

Maybe this would be a sort of warm up, an easier bonding experience before he had to deal with Red or Purple.

Hm. “Deal with” probably wasn't the right phrase. Take care of? Help? He wanted to help.

Blue prattled away, as always, talking about anything under (and over) the sun. Making joke after joke. None of them were very funny, Splinter preferred Purple's dry sense of humor. His Lou Jitsu days were so full of puns, he found he could hardly stand them anymore, but he gave a couple pity laughs. Mikey had told him to be nice, after all.

“So, you ready to head home, Daddio?” Splinter glanced at Leo's face, which was spreading an easy smile,

“What- it has only been fifteen minutes!” Blue shrugged, not slowing. They had been walking aimlessly around Central Park, Leo with a slice of pizza and Splinter with a soft pretzel.

“And I don't think you want to break that streak.” He said it in that animated tone he always took on when he was joking. But this time, it wasn't funny. Or, well, more not-funny than usual.

“What streak?”

“Angie said if you made fun of me, I could go home.” Splinter stumbled, having to press forward faster to keep up with Leonardo's unfaltering steps. Angie said if you made fun of me, I could go home.

“Why would I make fun of you?” To a stranger, Leonardo would appear unaffected, but Splinter caught the downward twitch of his brow, the sudden tensing of his shoulders, quickly hidden as his hands rose to rest on the back of his head, his expression smoothed into something nicer, so quickly, it might have been a passing shadow. He wouldn't notice if he was a stranger. He might have noticed sooner if he barely wasn't.

Leo did something rare. He hesitated, covering it up with a shrug and a glance to his left. Casual, easy-going. He laughed, something high and sweet. And then he didn't say anything more.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“Why would I make fun of you?”

“Kidding, Pops.” He assured, picture perfect grin. A blink, and Splinter almost felt like he was looking in a mirror, 17 years ago.

Splinter wracked his brain, trying to remember all of the parenting books he had asked April to get for him.

Take accountability, he had read, you have to show respect for your children, and apologize when you make a mistake.

Splinter had never been very good at apologizing. Maybe it came from being a movie star. Maybe it came from before. His Grandfather used to make him his favorite foods, cut him the sweetest fruit. Splinter didn't think there were enough strawberries in the world to make up for everything.

He might as well start. Give it a try. Let Blue know that he was trying.

“I would like to apologize to you.” This time, it was Leo who faltered. He played it off as a trip, and brought his hands down. Suddenly Splinter was looking at a little turtle, sitting on the kitchen counter, fidgeting with his fingers and sneaking a glance at the broken glass beneath him. Sneaking glances at Splinter. Leo was a much better actor now then all those years ago, maybe a better actor then Splinter ever was, but he still picked at his nails.

“You… what?” Leo said with a laugh, letting his genuine confusion shine through. Splinter gestured to a nearby bench,

“Come, sit with me.”

“Um, I'd love to but, see, I promised Donnie-”

“Leonardo.” Splinter was expecting resistance, a groan or dragging feet.

He wasn't expecting a full body flinch.

Take accountability.

Be nice.

Looking out at the sidewalk, Splinter could almost see a little Baby Blue, only 5 years old, a tiny turtle all wrapped in clothes and sneaking towards the pidgins, hell-bent on catching one. Weeks later, when Splinter had stopped going out, Blue actually managed it. He was with Red at the time, and he had told Splinter about it excitedly that night, shouting to be heard over the noise of the TV. Turning up the volume was so easy. Up, up, up, and everything would leave Splinter alone.

“...I am sorry I snapped.” He said, softer. Leonardo didn't look at him, but his brow twitched, so quickly disguised. Be up front, and honest. “I will not force you, but I would like to have a conversation with you.” Splinter watched patiently as Blue scratched the back of his neck, fumbling out a couple starts to excuses, before petering out and sitting beside him on the bench.

Up, up, up, and he would leave his everything alone. All alone.

“I have not been a good father.” Leo hesitated, like he wanted to object, “You do not have to say anything.” So he didn't. “I left you- all of you alone when you needed me, time and time again.” Deep breath. Ok, “I am sorry.” A moment of silence, then another.

And then Blue began to laugh.

It wasn't his high, silly laugh, when Donatello fell over or Michelangelo was sassy, or his big, performative chuckle, when making a joke or in front of a crowd, or even that sweet giggle that he had long grown out of, from hugs or tickling or watching a silly show.

No, this was new.

This was crackling, high up in his throat and covering his eyes with a hand, a shake of his head. This was filling time so he didn't have to speak, covering his eyes so he didn't have to look, this was his son hiding away, this was paint spread over Hamato Leonardo so it looked pretty. And deep, deep down, this was a flicker of hope, tucked away so no one could see when they blew it out.

“..Is this a joke?” There were no cracks in the armor of his voice, but his fingers twitched and tapped together, eyes still looking away.

“No.” Splinter assured. Leo laughed again, this time shorter, a little sharper,

“I think you misunderstand,” He chuckled, the performance one, “I. Am. Leo!” He said each word slowly, dripping with sarcasm, “This seems like more of a.. Splinter-Mikey conversation.” He smiled. Mirrored.

“I have talked to your brother already.” Splinter explained, still a little confused. Where was this going? “But I wanted to apologize to you as well.” Leo studied him. Really studied him, up and down. His brow twitched before melting back into his usual expression. Pleasant, smooth, easy-on-the-eyes. He smiled. Splinter was beginning to hate that smile.

“Let's just head home, we were going to hang out with April-”

“But I wanted-”

“We don't have to do this!” There was the snap Splinter had been anticipating. Leonardo's eye contact was sharp, face almost exasperated. Almost.

“...do what?” Splinter asked.

“This!” Leo gestured between them, “I've given you, like, two different chances to opt out!”

“I do not want to opt out.”

“Well that's a first!”

And

Ouch.

Leo looked away, deflating.

“Sorry.” He muttered, hand over the back of his neck.

Accountability. Apologize.

“No, you are right, and I am sorry for that, but I want to spend time with you now.”

“Why?” There were no lies in the question, no distant undertones or cover ups. It was the first deeply honest thing Splinter had heard from Blue that day, maybe even that year.

“Because you are my son, and you deserve to have someone looking out for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are a person.” Leo looked like he wanted to say something, another snap perhaps, one true and stinging, but he just looked away.

“...stop messing with me.”

“I am not.”

“Just stop!” There was no one around them to look up at the shout, “Just- Can we just go home already?”

“I want to-”

“Spend time with me, right?” Leo rushed on, “What would that do, huh!? I'm sure you'd rather be with Donnie or- or anybody!”

“I do not-”

“Did I have to earn it? Is that what this is? Did I finally do it!?” Tears.

“Earn what?”

“This!” His voice cracked as he gestured in between them. “You- you never wanted to do this before! Did-” He swallowed, “Is it because I'm taking things seriously now? Is that all? I just had to try and kill myself and you'd actually love me!?”

“I've always loved you!” Splinter cried, horrified. And Blue…

His Baby Blue laughed at him, hand over face to wipe his eyes.

“It is true!” Splinter felt his own eyes began to water as well. It had been… how long since his son had cried to him? “And I am a fool to ever let you believe otherwise!”

“I don't care!” Leo almost snarled, “I don't-!” He stopped himself, tucked his head down with his hands on his knees. A collection of leaves blew across the sidewalk, causing a pigeon to startle, settling down a few steps later and pecking at the ground. Leonardo kept his tears silent and steady, sitting on the bench with his hands gripping his knees, almost like seiza.

“..Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” A small hitch. Leo kept his eyes down.

“Why did you make me leader?” That… wasn't what Splinter had been expecting.

“Because Raphael-”

“Needed a break.” Leo finished. Splinter tried not to be irked at the interruption, “Needed to chill out, right? It was hurting him.” He looked right at him, “Right, Splinter?” The first name rolled so easily off of his tongue. He didn't wait long for an answer, “But better it hurt me then him, right? Since I'm already such a fucking screw up, you might as well finish the job!”

“Leonardo-”

“What did I ever do to you?” His voice had a ring to it, a rare one. Honesty. That honest, genuine tone that always came with the "I love you"'s and the ‘hey, its okay"'s and the oh so rare "I'm sorry"'s. Shaky and truthful and hard as a diamond, “I wanted you so bad, I just want- Dad just-”

There were no parenting books for this.

Blue let him sit in startled silence, taking his time to wipe his tears.

Splinter had fucked up. Badly. And he was 10 years too late to fix it all.

But he had to try. Try again and again until his son knew he wasn't kidding. He wasn't joking. He might never forgive him, but Splinter wasn't joking.

“I do agree with you, Red needed a break.” Splinter leaned back on the bench and looked at the sky, giving Leo some privacy, “I did not mean to pass that burden on to you. In all honesty, I did not think about it. You are incredibly strong, my son," Blue stiffened at the compliment, "I did not realize how much stress was being put on you. That is my mistake, and I am so incredibly sorry for it.” Leo brought his leg up and hugged it to his chest, looking away.

“I made you the leader because I thought it would help you grow. Because you are clever, and brave, and can keep your brother's out of trouble without them even knowing it.” Leo huffed out his nose, almost amused. “You are not a screw up. You are a person who makes mistakes and learns, just like any other person.” Splinter took a deep breath. Now for the hard part, “My neglect was no fault of yours.” He was expecting more silence.

Instead, there came a choked sob.

Leo held his knee tight to his chest, tucking his face away. His hood was up. Splinter reached out a hand, pressing it against his son's shell.

“It is not your fault.”

Leo didn't speak to him for the rest of the day, hiding in his room as soon as they got home, but not before leaning into his touch, shoulders relaxing, just a little.

#may have gone overboard but #a love writing about characters mindsets #love the OG idea sm i am so excited to see more villain leo he has my heart and I WILL be drawing him #rottmnt #save rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leonardo #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fics

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whorefordean · 5 months

Text

to soothe your pain || d.w

wc: 1.1k

tw: use of petname (sweetheart), like the tiniest amount of angst but only if you squint

a/n: this got so far away from where it was originally supposed to go but i don't mind tbh. i wrote this bc i am indeed a headache girlie and i know dean would fix it so this is completely self indulgent not sorry

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you sigh in discomfort as the pounding in your head intensifies. the dim lights in the bunker are somehow still making your headache worse.

dean notices the pout on your face as soon as you enter the library, and he frowns. his eyebrows furrow as he watches you slowly trudge into the room.

dean chuckles softly when you pull your hood over your head. the material covers most of your face, easing the pain only slightly. you slump towards dean before slowly climbing into his lap. he chuckles to himself as he spreads his arms wider for you to get comfortable.

immediately dean’s arms wrap around your body. he kisses your shoulder softly as he rubs your back warmly.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” dean whispers into your ear.

“my head hurts, dean,” you whine into the crook of his neck. you adjust slightly, resting your head on his shoulder now. you can’t seem to completely block out the lights even as you push your face further into dean.

“can i try something?” dean asks, already moving before you even answer. you’re desperate for any sort of relief, so you lift your head to nod. dean raises his hands to pull your hood down and threads his fingers into your hair. he’s pulling your strands slightly before applying pressure. dean’s palms are now flat against your scalp, barely squeezing as to not hurt you.

the relief is near immediate. dean watches as you relax into him. you pull your hands up to his forearms to hold him in place.

“oh my god, dean, i love you,” you sigh causing dean to laugh out loud. he releases the pressure and alternates between rubbing your scalp and squeezing.

“well, considering you married me, i kinda assumed you already did, but thanks for the reassurance,” dean jokes playfully.

“yeah, but now i love you even more,” you reply with your eyes closed. after a few minutes, dean completely pulls his hands back, stopping all the pressure he had been applying but not moving his hands from your hair. you open your eyes to look at him with a small pout..

“i don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart. i can’t sit here squeezing that pretty little head of yours all night. it’ll make it worse if i do,” dean answers as he twirls your hair through his fingers.

“but it feels good now,” you whine as you plop your head onto his shoulder. dean feels bad, really. it sucks seeing you in pain like this when he knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it. the pain reliever you took earlier barely helped at all, so you didn’t even bother with another dosage.

“come on,” dean says though he gives you no time to question him before he’s standing up. he picks you up from his lap and carries you to your shared bedroom in the bunker. the sudden movement causes you to yelp in surprise. dean is quick to pull your hood back over your head, blocking out the brighter lights of the hallway, as you cling onto his broad shoulders.

you let out a few soft giggles as his grip falls to your ass, giving it a slight squeeze before finally just resting there.

“watch those hands, dean,” you mutter playfully into his shoulder. dean’s chest rumbles with laughter.

“i know exactly where my hands are at, sweetheart,” dean teases back, and even though you can’t see his face, you’re positive he’s smirking right now. a sigh escapes your lips as you relax further into dean as he continues the trek down the long hallways. his warmth envelopes you, and you only realize now just how truly lucky you are to have him.

dean has, quite literally, saved your life more times than you can count. he’s stuck by your side through every single hardship and peril. he’s been to hell and back, no pun intended, just to keep you safe. you squeeze your arms around him just a little bit tighter, trying to keep him as close as possible to you. if dean notices, he doesn’t mention it. instead, his hand travels up your back under your hoodie, tapping you a few times softly before he rubs soothing circles into your skin.

“you doing okay, sweetheart?” his voice is softer than before as he notices the way your demeanor changes. he opens the door to your bedroom, using his foot to close it behind him.

dean pulls the covers back and gently places you down. he didn’t bother turning the lights on when he brought you in here, not wanting to worsen your headache, so he lays down beside you. immediately, dean’s arms move to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. you tuck yourself further into him, pushing your face into his chest. with one arm wrapped around you, dean lets his other hand rest against your head. the slight pressure helps to relieve the ache that has long since settled behind your eyes.

dean relaxes when you do, content with the fact that you seek him out for comfort. he finds pride knowing that he’s your source of comfort. dean lays with you silently in the dark, a recurring situation almost always caused by your current circumstances.

“thank you, dean,” you mumble quietly in the dark. dean furrows his brows at your sudden expression of gratitude.

“don’t thank me for this, sweetheart. this is the bare minimum of what you deserve. in sickness and in health, remember?” dean answers firmly. he’s almost shocked that you feel the need to thank him for… comforting you?

“i know that, but you should still be told that you’re appreciated, dean. and i do appreciate you so much,” you tell him. you hope that dean can not only hear, but feel, the love seeping off every syllable you utter. you scooch impossibly closer to your husband, draping your leg over him. you lean in close to his ear.

“thank you for every single thing you do, dean winchester,” you place a small kiss to his cheek before leaning back down and resting your head against his chest.

“i thought i was the one easing your pain,” the teasing lilt is evident in dean’s voice, but underneath, you can hear the gratitude in his tone.

“god forbid, i comfort my husband,” you sigh dramatically causing dean to laugh.

“i’m so sorry, sweetheart. please continue,” dean jokes. the two of you laugh together before finally settling down. dean plays with your hair as you trace shapes against his biceps. the two of you lay in silence, embracing each other, praying that the other knows how loved they are.

#dean winchester hurt comfort #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic

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