Warnings/Tags: Established relationship, short oneshot, pet names, second person pov, swearing, suggestive, bro is a big dumb puppy
Words: 1k
A/N: Hello! I'm back♡ I've been working on some things while away so theres one of them! i mighttt have something else cooking up for the knocker coming out soon and some other fics for another character. Enjoy!
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“We’re trapped…”
Knocker mutters, as if it wasn't obvious by the predicament you’ve found yourselves in. You had Knocker to thank for finding the small hole in the cave that was promptly covered up by your spare cobblestone.
“Really, Knocker? Gee, I couldn't tell!” You were visibly irritable and annoyed. Him breathing down your neck and the torch adding extra heat to your face only made it worse. Can you blame him, though? He's basically a living block of ice.
“I saved you.” he declares. You could’ve sworn you saw his chest puff out by how proud he sounded. He places the torch onto the wall, then pulls you away from the cobblestone wall you built. They were all still out there. They could smell you and knew where you were hiding.
“And you saved me before! Can't you use your, I don't know… Freaky entity powers to clear them or something?” He pulls you to the floor with him. You let out a yelp, quickly covering your mouth. He makes you sit between his legs as his cold hands seek your body's warmth. He practically purrs into your neck, eyes closed and breathing steady.
“You think I have freaky entity powers that can wipe out an entire cave?” He questions, leaning his face into your neck, leaving a soft trail of kisses. His cold lips on your skin make you jerk slightly. He pulls his head back slightly, squinting his eyes as he glances at you.
“Yes.” You reply, confident you’ve seen him do something of the sort before.
“… I use an axe as a weapon, sunshine. I was a sacrifice, not some God.” He chuckles deeply, almost bitterly, at the fact. Then that's when you asked.
“What were you?”
He stiffens, and his breathing grows heavy. When the question came out of the blue, he went through a wry array of emotions: confusion, sadness, a flash of anger, and then him.
“Hungry.” Knocker pushes you away slightly, reaching for your backpack that was resting next to him. He pulls out some extra bread that you swear you didn't pack for him as a ‘just in case’ snack. He munches away, pulling you back towards him, obviously not avoiding your question whatsoever.
You didn't know how much longer you two were going to be trapped in here for. Not only was it night, but there was also a terrifying storm outside. Traveling now meant certain death for one of you at least.
And Knocker wasn't helping, but his presence was infuriatingly comforting. You moved slightly. Knocker was quick to wrap his arm around you, while the other was busy wiping crumbs off of his face.
“We need to do something, or we’ll be trapped here while they keep growing in numbers. Seriously, Knocker, you’re so useless!”
He really didn't want to get up, or let you go, or even leave the little hole you two were stuck in, for that matter. You had to pry yourself out of his grip. You stood up. By the time you had turned around, all that was left of him was black smoke and a sign that read
‘You’ll regret that.’
You let out a long, frustrated sigh as you get ready to leave. Backpack strapped on and weapon ready to strike. You break one block of cobblestone and then glance around. You were expecting to fight off a horde as soon as you broke the second block, but much to your surprise, they ignored you?
The monsters seemed to be occupied by something else and went the opposite direction of where you needed to go. You waited until they were fully out of sight before making a run for it. Even outside the cave you could see the monsters, yet they didn't dare move an inch towards you. You ran all the way home, then slammed the door behind you, falling breathlessly to the ground.
After catching your breath, you slowly stood up, your legs burned from the marathon. Tossing your backpack onto the floor and then removing your armor, you make your way to your room and throw yourself onto your bed.
It was quiet, peaceful even. Then you remembered the sign.
“Knocker?”
Something heavy throws its limbs around you, holding you in place.
“Took you long enough.”
He whispers, his cold nose already finding its way to your neck, breathing in your scent. He was obsessed with you in every sense of the word.
“You left me alone and told me I’d regret it!” You scolded. He didn't seem to care, only hummed and kissed your cheek, then slid his cold hands under your shirt, making you yelp. Then there was a slight pause. You two just lay there, but you could tell something was off with him.
“I’m not useless.”
Knocker whispers, It wasn't a question but rather a statement. His voice was still low enough just for you to hear but still carried a declaration.
“You’re not useless, knocker. I was wrong for even saying that. I'm sorry.” You didn't realize how badly your words could so easily affect him. The scary entity who haunts you was here sulking in your bed over something you said. You chuckled at how ridiculous it was.
“What?”
“Nothing, come here.” You turn over and face him, your head resting on his chest.
“You don't seem that regretful.”
“I said I was sorry!”
In the blink of an eye, you find him above you. He leaves a train of kisses down from your lips to your neck to your chest until his lips get lower and lower.
“Knocker!” You covered your face, but he held down your hands. You were flustered, just how he likes to see you.
“You’re always off paying attention to everything and everyone but me, and then you tell me to fuck off or call me useless when I work my ass off for you." He places a kiss, then nuzzles your thighs, his hands moving towards them and gripping your flesh. No doubt marks would be left.
"Always all for you. You're mine, and I don't think you’re that sorry, sweetie.”
He looks up at you from between your legs like a starved man. Maybe you should start paying more attention to your boyfriend before he destroys the world as you know it. If you asked him to, he would find a way and create a new one where it's just you and him.
But right now he needed to make sure you'd regret your words until you begged him to stop.
I have a smut idea of reader bringing mike some supper or something, a meal ig.. and mike just cant control himself and needs reader so bad (am i delusional?)
Sweat It Out!
Paring: Movie!sick!Mike x GN!Reader
CW: MDNI smut, swearing, no use of y/n, second person pov, oneshot, gender neutral reader, fluff, mike is pathetic even when sick.
WC: 1k
A/N: Hiii! Thank you for the request and sorry this took so long to get to! I’ve been wanting to practice writing out of my comfort zone so this one might be a tad bit shorter than my other fics but l hope you enjoy! Also no, you arent delusional cause i love me some mike too.
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You’ve been staying in the Schmidt's residence for 2 days. You were familiar with the creaky floorboards and the layout of the entire house. Why? Because your beloved Michael had somehow gotten the plague, someone needed to take care of little Abby while he was actively dying.
Mike had been sleeping most of the days, only being awoken from his slumber for meds, water, and broth. Abby, on the other hand, was easier to take care of, and luckily she had school to keep her occupied, and it gives you a bit of a break too.
You had just finished dropping off Abby from school. That was one task of your to-do list done for the day. The next task was Mike. Quietly you enter the house and lock the door behind you. Suddenly there was a loud groan followed by a sneeze.
“Mike?” You quickly plopped your belongings down and rushed to his bedroom. You had to cover your mouth from the sight. Somehow, Mike landed face-first onto the floor. He looked so out of it.
“Hey, what happened?” You cross your arms, waiting to hear a slurred answer. Instead, he groans again.
“Okay, come on.” You hook your arms under his and try to lift him up. He was heavier than he looked. He groans again loudly in your ear. Throwing him onto the bed, you huff. “You didn't need to do that!”
Mike opens his eyes halfway. They were red, irritated, and watery. You place the back of your hand on his forehead. He was way too hot.
“I'm so coldddd!” he wraps himself with the blanket like a child throwing a tantrum. Men really do turn into babies when sick, huh?
“How about I make you something warm? Like soup?” Mike peeks from under the blanket. You could’ve sworn you'd seen his eyes light up at the mention of food.
He nods, rasping out a hoarse “yes.”
“Right, I'll be back!” You head to the kitchen, hoping he stays in bed this time. Luckily, Mike had some soup in the pantry from the last time Abby had gotten sick. Chicken noodle was all they had, and you assumed it was her favorite. Making do with that, they had you grab a pot from under the cabinet and heat up the stove.
Then you open the can and pour out all its contents into the heating pot. It was a quick process, taking no more than 10 minutes. Once you made sure the soup was ready, you poured it into a bowl, saving some in the pot just in case.
You took a spoon and napkins, then carefully made your way to Mike's room with the hot bowl in hand.
“Mikey!~” you whispered, trying not to startle him. Somehow he looked worse than how you left him. His cheeks were flushed and his forehead damp with sweat, yet he was still wrapped snugly under the blankets.
You place down the bowl and utensils with a soft clink and then gently shake him awake.
“Mikey, wake up.” His eyes slowly open. Before you could get another word out, he grabs you and rolls you onto the bed with him.
“Michael!” you shouted. His face finds your neck, and he remains there. Placing soft kisses on it. You try to pull yourself off, but he tries to trap you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, or as tight as he thinks. He barely kept you in place.
“Mike, you—” he kisses you sloppily, hand finding its way into your hair as he pulls you closer. Then you feel it, the reason he was acting this way. He grinds against you, his hard member aching for release as he grinds faster.
“You're sick,” you say in between kisses.
“Help me, please?” he begs, his eyes growing wetter as if he was going to sob if he didn't have you. You knew it was because he was sick, but it was a very nice thought seeing him crying from depravity.
You sigh and nod, finally breaking the kiss. Mike was sweating as you helped each other undress. Then he started shivering.
“We can—”
“No!” He grabs your wrists and pulls you back down into a harsh kiss. You couldn't help but laugh at how determined he was to fuck you. His hot hands roam your body, finding between your heat. Your body shudders, satisfied with this reaction. His hands find their way to your nipples, gently rubbing them and lightly tugging them, earning another moan from you.
“So reactive.” He kisses your chest, then licks and sucks on your nipple. You toss your head back as he sucks, drool running down his chin.
Then suddenly he stops. You thought he was pondering where to move to next, but he was too still. “Mike?”
He snores himself awake. “Yes?” he says groggily, lifting his head. You lightly push his head back onto the pillow with a soft laugh.
“Let me take care of you.”
You reach over to the drawer on the left, a special drawer meant for his and your eyes only. You take out the half-empty bottle of lube and drizzle it down your chest. Mike's eyes practically popped out of his skull as he watched the erotic scene unfold in front of him.
As you place the lube back onto the nightstand, he moves his hands up and down your waist. You drizzle some lube on your hand and slowly begin to stroke his member. Mike jolts and gasps. Slowly you tease yourself with it as you line his dick up to your hole, then slowly sink down.
You squeeze around him, and he could’ve sworn he saw the heavens. “F—fuck!” Mike rasps as you slowly begin to move. Bouncing up and down his length to your own rhythm. He tries to help, tries to lift his hands to thrust into you, but he is much too weak.
“I’ve got you.” You bounce harder and faster, clenching around him again. You and Mike both let out a series of moans. His callused hands grip onto your thighs. He tries to pull you closer, slams you down harder, giving him what he was asking for. You slam down harder onto your cock. Mike was gone, closing his eyes as he chanted your name.
He tries to reach a hand to play with your chest again, but it falls to the side. You help him, keeping a hand on top of your nipple as he played with it. Pleasure erupted in so many places in your body. Your eyes rolled, legs became sore and shaky.
“Cumming!” you gasp as your body twitches. You get off of him, and he cums on your lower back and on his thighs. The white substance leaks down onto the sheets underneath.
You fall onto the side of the bed, panting, shaky, and sweaty. Mike rolls over and clings onto you as if you two were a disgusting mess of each other's juices.
“Feeling any better?” You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his hair. He nods into your neck and sighs.
“Yes.”
You place the back of your hand on his forehead. His temperature seems to have gone down. The soup was long forgotten and needed to be heated up again. You felt like you were forgetting something. You hummed, lost in thought, trying to recall what you had forgotten.
“What's wrong?” Mike asks, kissing your neck. You look up at the ceiling, breaking your mind trying to remember.
“I feel like I’m forgetting to do something…”
“It probably wasn't important,” Mike replies groggily, closing his eyes as he begins to drift off. Quickly you gasp, shooting up.
“What?! What?!” Mike screamed, scared half to death. Quickly you scurry, trying to put on your clothes, tripping over yourself, and landing on the floor before you quickly pick yourself up again.
“I FORGOT TO PICK UP YOUR SISTER!” You screamed in the hallway before slamming the door. Mike blinks tiredly and yawns, high off medication and blissfully unaware of what you had just said.
CW: Death, gore, manipulation, stalking, violence, swearing, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst,smut, dual pov, second person pov, no use of y/n, my interpretation of knocker, pet names, trauma, dub-con, original characters, slowish burn
WC: 1k
A/N: Gonna try to post a new chapter every friday at my usual time! 1pm!
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Rain pours down, drenching you completely and blinding your view. You didn't know left from right or forwards from backward, but you knew you needed to press on no matter what. You were alone, afraid, and you walked for days on end.
The only thing you took with you was a sword used as a so called holy relic. the village you were born into worshipped gods of old and had their own way of life, mostly secluded from the rest of the world. You were just like the rest of them, human in every shape of the word. Until the day you wandered too far. You were supposed to be dead. Instead, when your body was discovered, you were, in fact, you and very much alive and well.
Quickly, this ability of yours was deemed a blessing, as the village priest called it. The ability to return from death no matter how gruesome was a gift from the gods they worshipped. And thus, you were treated as a holy being, a sacred vessel instead of the child you were. Ripping you away from your parents to turn you into something greater.
A messenger.
Soon more disasters began to occur. You were needed during the worst drought your village ever faced.
They needed their prayers to be heard and were willing to risk everything, even you, their blessing.
You were held down and bathed in anointed water, then dressed in white. It all happened too fast. One second you were listening to someone's pleas, the next you were trembling as you stood above the calm waters that were slowly becoming enraged. The jump was steep, the waves crashing occasionally into the rocks below. You desperately wanted to back out. Before you could turn, you were tossed into the sea, unaware of what dangers lay beneath. They had convinced you you were doing the unseen gods work by giving the sea their prayers through you.
There came a point where you began to wonder if you truly were a messenger. They used you in a new way. Whenever tragedy struck, you became their sacrifice in order to ensure their prayers were "delivered properly." You always came back, waking up in that little cold room in the church you lived in. Too numb and dazed to even cry anymore.
You couldn't lie. Sometimes you enjoyed the attention and praise, although you didn't quite grasp the gravity of the situation you were forced into yet. The feeling of being a savior, their savior—the world's savior—made you feel important. But as you got older, the more frequently you were needed to relay messages to the unseen gods, soon becoming a never-ending cycle. Until the drought became worse, it felt like you were waking up from death every single day. Nightmares and reality began blurring together. Even the pain began to feel like something your brain conjured up to prepare you for what was about to happen.
The emptiness all this came with made you feel almost nonhuman, a husk housing a soul. And it grew until the void within you made itself aware. You weren't sure what it was you were missing, but you also didn't bother to bring it up to anyone out of fear.
With every blessing came the slow loss of faith, and soon fear took hold. Eventually they treated you differently to the point where the priest who had raised you labeled you a false creation, the devil pawn in disguise.
You were locked away. The little freedom you had left was stripped, and they kept you in the church's prison for sinners. You weren't sure how you even managed to escape, but once you did, you never looked back. Stealing a holy relic and using it as a weapon was your way of getting your last laugh.
That's how you found yourself in the situation you're in now.
Eventually, you came across a small hut and planned to camp there for a few days. A few days turned into weeks, and before you could blink, it became a place you called home. Building wasn't your strong suit—not like they expected you to lift a finger when you were worshipped, or something like that. But you thought it looked pretty cozy and began fixing it up with what you had to work with.
However, you could never shake the feeling of being watched, no matter where you were. Maybe the guilt from running away was eating away at you after all this time. Tending your garden, caring for your animals, or rearranging your chests, you always felt eyes on you wherever you went.
You brushed the feeling aside for much too long. They couldn't have found you… right? Still, you made sure to move carefully no matter how far you went.
Even while mining, you were wary. They were short trips, but this time you decided to stay a little longer, seeing how promising the cave was.
Once you managed to find the entrance, you rushed back home, the moon beaming in the sky. Grinning from ear to ear, you really lucked out this time and wanted to put away your spoils. Even the hissing of spiders and groans of zombies couldn't sour your mood. Soon the dim lighting from where you lived started to come into view. A wave of relief washes over you as you get closer to your house with each step.
Swinging open your door and then closing it before the monsters come in, you remain there for a moment, hand on the door, while you catch your breath. After you’ve gotten enough air back in your body to function, you sling your backpack off of your shoulder and then groan, rubbing your legs.
You were out there on your feet for hours, maybe even days. Your legs were burning and screamed they needed rest.
As you begin stripping off your armor, your wolf comes up to you, nudging your leg and whining.
“Hey girl! What’s wrong?” You crouch down, ignoring the screaming in your legs, to give your precious pup much-needed attention. Poor Opal was used to you being away for days in the mines. You felt bad. You can't imagine how lonely she must’ve felt and how scared she—
“Who's there?” You quickly turn around, facing the front door. Senses heightened, someone was lurking outside. Your heartbeat begins to pick up. You didn't have time to armor up. Opal stands in front of you. You only had time to draw your sword and shield. You motion for Opal to sniff out the intruder. She points her snout to the door of your bedroom.
Which was odd. You just heard them outside?
Your eyes widen in fear, and your mind rushes with every terrible outcome that could occur.
They broke in.
They found me.
They're going to take me back.
They're going to kill me.
You took one step, then another, towards the door. Your footsteps were light and quiet, but your breath was shaky. None of this felt real. You didn't want to believe it was true.
Placing your ear onto the door, you can hear faint breathing on the other side, like they were listening by the door too.
Without warning, you open the door, ready to attack. But before you could even raise your weapon, it was too late.
“O-Opal!” you cry out, waking up from bed. Opal barks at a puff of black smoke, trying to grab it with her teeth as it dissipates.
“A fire? No, are they that desperate that they're working with some kind of witch? An evoker? Illusioner, maybe?”
You were so distraught, a hand runs down your face as you try to figure out what the hell was even going on.
Opal barks in your direction. You shush her, but she continues, forcing you to get out of bed. “Hungry, girl? Come on!” You tried to put on a brave face for her, shaking off what just happened to keep her calm. This wasn't how you wanted the reunion with your previous companion to go.
You were too focused on your own thoughts to see that Opal wasn't barking at nothing.
CW: MDNI Death, gore, manipulation, stalking, violence, swearing, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, dual pov, second person pov, no use of y/n, my interpretation of knocker, pet names, trauma, dub-con, original characters, slowish burn, religious imagery and symbolism
Synopsis: In a small village secluded from the world, was born a child with a blessing, a gift bestowed by the Gods. Given the ablity to return after death. The villagers turned that little blessing into a messenger, a child, sent off to deliver the burdens and prayers of the villagers, turning peril to the Gods themselves.
But as they grow older they realize not everything is as it seems and the faces they see in shadows might not be a trick of their mind.
A/N: Hellooooo! I've been working on this for such a long time and I'm so so sooo happy to finally be able to share it with you guys! Knocker is my favorite rn and i wanted to write something longer for him. This is also my first time writing smut so plz bare with me. I also tried to keep it as vague as possible since its a GN!reader.
CW: Death, gore, manipulation, stalking, violence, swearing, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, dual pov, second person pov, no use of y/n, my interpretation of knocker, pet names, trauma, dub-con, original characters, slowish burn
WC: 1k
A/N: Thank you so much for reading ♡ short little intro to my new multi chapter fic that will be finished unlike the last one 😭More will be posted soon :3
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Within the darkness of the void housed a single source that was forever trapped in eternal nothingness. Stripped of its humanity and cursed into its unsightly new form, sentient and aware, all concept of time had been lost.
Until a small pocket of light appeared. It examines it, fingers brushing over the small tear that dares leak in such a obnoxious source.
It tries to cover it, tries to fix it, mend it in hopes to return to how things were within the void. It felt comfort in it despite it causing it so much pain and turmoil. More tears begin to appear, too many for it to try to fix. Then it sees it: the familiar lush greens of a world it had long forgotten. It watches within its blanket of nothingness.
The leaves gently swaying in the wind, the sun beaming brightly onto the water casting a blinding glow. Maybe in another life it would’ve appreciated it. It watches as the day turns into night.
A figure rushes past, sparking a flicker of something within it. A feeling it has lost a long time ago? Recently? It couldn't tell.
Stubbornly, it begins to claw its way through the tears, wanting to go to the source.
Clawing and clawing until it finds itself standing in the same spot it observed through the void. The feeling it once felt was now gone, and it was determined to find it again.
A new threat to the world had been reborn and he already found his first victim.
Warnings/Tags: established relationship, second pov, angst, x reader, vanessa needs a hug, insecurity, five nights at Freddy's, gn!reader, vanessa has springlock scars, angst with happy ending, injury, blood, non sexual nudity in one scene
Words: 2k
A/N: This one came to me in a dream. Also i made some banners for my fics! I love how the one for Vanessa came out and cant wait to show you guys the others!
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The house was dimly lit, the stench of work still lingered on Vanessa. She throws herself onto the couch, taking in a deep breath before letting it out, her hands playing with the cuff of her uniform. Light scars decorated her wrist that she always tried to hide, not because she didn't trust you, but because to her, they were a reminder of what she couldn't stop.
“Ness?” you called as you strolled into the living room. There you found a sprawled-out Vanessa who looked just about done with forming any sort of thoughts.
“Ness?” she was lost in her own world as she continued to play with the cuff. It wasn't until you kissed her cheek that she broke out of her own trance.
“Sorry I'm—”
“Tired. I’ve got you,” you kiss her face again as you gently take her hand into yours, forcing her to stop playing with the poor cuff that was already fraying at the hem. Slowly, you move her wrist to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on her scars. There was a soft smile on the blonde's face for a split second until the brooding expression returned.
You weren't sure how to help her deal with something so traumatic. Therapy helped until it was time to return home. But she needed something more to show her scars weren't flaws.
“Wait here.” you release her hand and head down the hall into the room you two kept the crafts you made together on a day when you just craved something to do to kill time. You rummage through the supplies, looking for something specific.
“My love?” Vanessa calls from the living room, before you could respond you bump into the desk and the stapler falls.
“Dammit!”
“Are you okay?!”
“I'm fine! Just wait there, Nessy!” you roll your eyes at yourself, muttering as you pick up the staple and the nails, then placing them on the desk. You’ll return to fix them late.
You open drawer after drawer until you find what you were looking for. Pearlescent gold body paint you didn't know what to do with until now. Rummaging through the drawer again you find a soft bristled unused paintbrush then head back to Vanessa. She was still in the same place you had left her. She had taken down her ponytail, and her boots were on opposite ends of the living room.
The moment she heard you, she opened an eye and silently observed. “What are you up to this time?” she couldn't help it, you made her crack a smile despite being on the verge of screaming her lungs out.
“Give me your arm, my love,” you instructed. She raises a brow yet still gives you an arm as you take a seat next to her.
Placing down the paint and paintbrush on the coffee table, you take her arm and roll up her sleeves. Vanessa tried to pull away, but you gently grabbed her wrist before she could pull away completely.
There was a silent exchange. Vanessa's eyes showed fear and subtle insecurity.
“It’s okay, I think they’re beautiful,” you whispered. Vanessa untenses her arm, her body still slightly on edge. Slowly you trace your fingertips over her scars, admiring them one by one. Once you're done, you reach over and take the pearlescent paint and put some onto the brush then begin drawing on her skin. Vanessa shudders at the paint's coldness but allows you to continue. Watching as you draw designs in gold and on top of her scars.
The paint's shine made her scars pop out more under the lighting. They sparkled, and for once, she thought it was beautiful.
“You’ve been through so much. They aren’t your fault,” you assured, drawing a small heart on her upper arm. Vanessa's nose and eyes grow red.
“Vanessa?”
She pulls her arm away and stares at the paint. She shakes her head and lowers her sleeve, not caring whether she ruined her work shirt.
“Ness—”
“Do you think all this will go away with a few words and paint?” Vanessa spat as hot tears rolled down her cheek. Her eyes and demeanor felt like she was a whole different person.
“Unlike your little art projects, these cant be painted over.”
“No that's not what I was trying to do!”
Vanessa holds out a hand to your face, signaling for you to stop. You try to comfort her but she refuses to touch you “Stop!” She shoves you into the couch, leaving you stunned.
“Ness…” you exhaled. She stands over you, eyes wide, regretting what she had done..
“Leave,” was all she could muster.
“Ness, I’m sorry, don’t—”
“You’ve done enough. Just leave.” She turns around, sniffling before letting out a broken “please.”
You silently nod as you push yourself off of the couch and leave her house without sparing her a second glance. The door shutting harshly behind you.
In the solitude of her house, Vanessa pulls up her stained sleeves, the body paint smudged and ruined. Standing in the middle of her empty house, she tearfully sighs as she makes her way to the bathroom, stripping herself of her work clothes. She stands in front of the half-mirror, observing her scarred naked body that she's hidden away from you for so long. A body that you loved despite its flaws.
She runs the water and turns on the shower head. Stepping into the running water, she watches as the gold paint washes off her body, revealing her scars underneath. The stress from work had eaten her up alive till she took it out of you verbally and physically, you, the one who put up with her nightmares, her her past, her trauma.
After showering and dressing, Vanessa lies in her bed. It was weird not having you by her side. Her house became yours once you two made things official. You barely stepped foot in your place. She wonders what you were doing, crying, screaming, breaking something or cursing her out. It broke her not knowing.
She picks up the phone, the light blinding her. She unlocks it and looks through her notifications, expecting to see a text or missed call from you, but there is nothing from you. She searches for your contact, her finger hovering over the call button next to your name, debating for a second until she decides to press it. The phone rang and rang until your voice made her sit up.
“Voicemail…” she grumbles, hanging up and tossing her phone somewhere on the bed. Maybe a little space wasnt so bad. The two of you never fought like this before, tensions were high and who knows what would happen.
You shut the door gently, your home felt so foreign to you. Standing in the middle of your doorway, you felt so small and out of place. Everything felt so familiar yet none felt like it belong to you.
As you removed your jacket, you felt a buzzing coming from your pocket. You jump, rushing to take out your phone hoping it was vanessa. Your face lights up seeing her name on your phone but quickly falls.
You allow the phone to ring, placing it back into your pocket and continuing on with your night in your estranged home.
“I should clean soon.” Your finger touches the table near the entrance, a layer of dust comes off. Wiping it off on your pants to head to the kitchen to get some water. You felt dehydrated after the ride home, driving teary eyed at night you were surprised you weren't involved in an accident.
You sit alone on at your dining table, cup of water in hand, house silent and bright letting passerby's know someone still lives here.
Placing down the cup of water on the table resounds with a soft clink. Your phone was in the front of your mind, itching to be used.
“Let her come to you,” you told yourself as you took the last sip of water. The coolness soothes your aching throat. Everything was fine. You were holding it together perfectly, until you broke.
The cup shatters under your right hand as you slam it against the table. The tiny shard pierced into your skin. You were too upset to feel the pain or blood dripping from your hand to notice in the moment. Until you placed you hand down onto the table to push yourseld up.
“Ah!” you cry, finally assessing the damage in your palm. Small pieces of glass poked out of your palm, blood pooling near the shards. You pick out the tiny shards shakily with your other hand. Some pieces were too deep to pick out, and it was too late to drive to a hospital when you had work in the morning.
Your phone vibrates again in your pocket, you ignore it. Rushing to the bathroom, you run your hand under water, trying to rinse out the shards. Terrible idea.
You wince in pain. It felt like the shards were pushing deeper into your skin. You phone rang again, you were growing annoyed now by the back to back calls.
Then it rings again.
And again.
And again.
Your phone was in your right pocket. Even if you wanted to answer it would’ve been painful to maneuver to answer and the shards would've only dug deeper.
You got to the point where you kicked your sink, stumbling back almost falling. “Dammit Vanessa.” you sigh, looking at your disheveled reflection in the mirror. Eyes puffy, nose red, cheeks stained with your tears.
Someone knocked on the door like they were about to break it down. You sigh in frustration. There was only one person who’d come around at this time of night. You planned to ignore her like you did her calls, but if she was crazy enough to come to your house in the middle of the night who knows what else she might do.
“Coming!”
You announce, quickly you wrap your hand in a bandage wrap you found in your medicine cabinet, your hand still bled but it seemed to subside a for now. All you could do was hope she’d leave quickly so you could continue tending to your hand. Vanessa would go insane if she knew you were hurt.
You rush to the door not bothering to look through the peephole. Opening the door revealed the blonde you loved. She stood at your doorstep in casual clothes, hair wet, face red, and phone to her ear.
You hide your hand behind your back as subtly as you could. Vanessa puts away her phone and moves forward, ready to embrace you out of habit but stops herself.
“Hey,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Hey,” you repeated, looking down at your shoes. “Can we talk?”
You nodded without a second to waste. Stepping aside, you allowed Vanessa in. “It's so you in here.” she whispers, looking around at the decor you had so carefully picked out. “Yeah, it feels weird being here again like this,” you stated flatly. The corner of Vanessa's lip twitches.
“Listen,” she says, placing her hands in her pockets. “I’m so sorry for what I did, you meant well and—”
“No it was a stupid idea. I just, I wanted to show you how I seen you. How I love you.” You shook your head, trying hard not to say something you’ll regret. Vanessas eyes soften as she takes your hands in hers. You wince. shit.
She gasps, her eyes widening as she brings your hand to her face. “What happened?!” Even though the bandages were bloody. They didn't need to be changed yet. You had to take it off soon anyway in order to remove the rest of the shards.
“I smashed a cup, but I'm okay!” you tried to shake your hand away, she held onto your wrist tightly. She looked like she was about to lose it again, which made you a little scared.
“It's all my fault. I'm so sorry, my love. Come here.” She pulls you into the bathroom, not paying attention to a word you’re saying.
“I'm okay! Vanessa, please let me go!”
Vanessa shook her head, unwrapping the bandages, revealing your bloodied and glass-covered palm. Carefully she picks them out with her nails. She needed something stronger to grab the deeper ones.
“Tweezers are in there,” you point towards the drawer under the sink. Vanessa opens it and obtains the tweezers before continuing picking out the glass. It was a silent and intimate moment. You stood together in the bathroom for what felt like hours as she meticulously picked out the little shards one by one, placing them on the edge of the sink to be thrown away later.
“You didn’t need to do this, Ness.” Your voice came out softer than expected for someone who was still upset. Vanessa gently smiles and shakes her head. “I know, but its the least I could do after… hurting you.” she muttered the last part. You could see how her face changed once the words came out of her mouth.
“Ness, you’re nothing like him you know that.”
Her jaw trembles. She remained quiet. “You’re amazing and kind and loving, and I know you wont do it again, you didn't mean any harm and we’ll grow from this.”
After Vanessa finished picking out the glass, she moved your hand closer to her face, making sure all the glass was out. Then she turns your hand and kisses the back of your hand.
“I'm so sorry,” she kisses it again, then wraps it in a fresh bandage. Her touch was light, like she was afraid she would make things worse if she accidentally hurt you. “Don't leave me.”
Your other hand finds its way to her cheek, you bring her face closer to yours until your lips find each other. Strands of her wet hair tickled your face as it stuck onto you.
You pull away laughing quietly.
“What's wrong?”
“Your hair,” you giggle, running your fingers through her wet hair and then scratching her scalp.
“What does my hair have to do with anything?” she asks, confused. You however seen an opportunity. “I need someone to nurse me back to health.” you sigh, holding up your wounded hand and pouting. Vanessa closes her eyes, trying hard not to smile.
“Good luck finding someone.” Vanessa crosses her arms and shifts her weight onto her left leg. Finally, things were feeling a bit more normal again.
“But I already have! She's this really pretty blonde cop with green eyes and freckles, do you know her?”
Vanessa shrugs, shaking her head. “Eh, not sure. Why don’t we go find her, hm?” She guides you out of the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her.
“Oh, I need to clean the glass!” Vanessa stops you before you could take another step. “No, go rest. I’ll clean it,” she insists. “But you—”
“I want to make it up to you,” she says, kissing your cheek, turning her gaze to your room. “Go rest, maybe later we can try that thing again? With the paint…” she fiddles with her fingers, growing nervous of what you might say. “I didn't appreciate the patterns you made earlier, the gold was beautiful.”
You let out a breathy laugh and nod. “Sure, Ness, we can do that.”
Vanessa perks up, beaming with glee. “I’m sorry,” she says again, this time you’re the one placing a hand on her mouth, shushing her. “I know Nessy, now go hurry so we can cuddle!”
You head to your room, the bed felt so cold and unused. You waited for Vanessa to finish cleaning the class from the table. After she was done, she made her way into the room. “Okay, I—” she cut herself off. You were already tucked into bed, there was space for her in the bed but you looked so peaceful she was almost afriad to disturb you.
“Nessy, come here.” you sleepily reach for her. Vanessa couldn't deny you of what you wanted. She turned off the lamp on your bedside table and then carefully got into bed next to you, wrapping the blankets around herself and her arms around you. In the dark, she couldn't see the scars that plagued her body, nor could she see the person she loved most in her arms, yet she knew you were there and loved you even in the dark. Just like how you loved her and her scars.
Vanessa traced over your features as you slept and made a promise to herself.
“I’ll never let him touch you.”
After that night, her scars served as a reminder of her silent promise to you, maybe there was beauty in them after all.
Warnings/Tags: established relationship, second pov, angst, x reader, vanessa needs a hug, insecurity, five nights at Freddy's, gn!reader, vanessa has springlock scars, angst with happy ending, injury, blood, non sexual nudity in one scene
Words: 2k
A/N: This one came to me in a dream. Also i made some banners for my fics! I love how the one for Vanessa came out and cant wait to show you guys the others!
Menu | AO3
The house was dimly lit, the stench of work still lingered on Vanessa. She throws herself onto the couch, taking in a deep breath before letting it out, her hands playing with the cuff of her uniform. Light scars decorated her wrist that she always tried to hide, not because she didn't trust you, but because to her, they were a reminder of what she couldn't stop.
“Ness?” you called as you strolled into the living room. There you found a sprawled-out Vanessa who looked just about done with forming any sort of thoughts.
“Ness?” she was lost in her own world as she continued to play with the cuff. It wasn't until you kissed her cheek that she broke out of her own trance.
“Sorry I'm—”
“Tired. I’ve got you,” you kiss her face again as you gently take her hand into yours, forcing her to stop playing with the poor cuff that was already fraying at the hem. Slowly, you move her wrist to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on her scars. There was a soft smile on the blonde's face for a split second until the brooding expression returned.
You weren't sure how to help her deal with something so traumatic. Therapy helped until it was time to return home. But she needed something more to show her scars weren't flaws.
“Wait here.” you release her hand and head down the hall into the room you two kept the crafts you made together on a day when you just craved something to do to kill time. You rummage through the supplies, looking for something specific.
“My love?” Vanessa calls from the living room, before you could respond you bump into the desk and the stapler falls.
“Dammit!”
“Are you okay?!”
“I'm fine! Just wait there, Nessy!” you roll your eyes at yourself, muttering as you pick up the staple and the nails, then placing them on the desk. You’ll return to fix them late.
You open drawer after drawer until you find what you were looking for. Pearlescent gold body paint you didn't know what to do with until now. Rummaging through the drawer again you find a soft bristled unused paintbrush then head back to Vanessa. She was still in the same place you had left her. She had taken down her ponytail, and her boots were on opposite ends of the living room.
The moment she heard you, she opened an eye and silently observed. “What are you up to this time?” she couldn't help it, you made her crack a smile despite being on the verge of screaming her lungs out.
“Give me your arm, my love,” you instructed. She raises a brow yet still gives you an arm as you take a seat next to her.
Placing down the paint and paintbrush on the coffee table, you take her arm and roll up her sleeves. Vanessa tried to pull away, but you gently grabbed her wrist before she could pull away completely.
There was a silent exchange. Vanessa's eyes showed fear and subtle insecurity.
“It’s okay, I think they’re beautiful,” you whispered. Vanessa untenses her arm, her body still slightly on edge. Slowly you trace your fingertips over her scars, admiring them one by one. Once you're done, you reach over and take the pearlescent paint and put some onto the brush then begin drawing on her skin. Vanessa shudders at the paint's coldness but allows you to continue. Watching as you draw designs in gold and on top of her scars.
The paint's shine made her scars pop out more under the lighting. They sparkled, and for once, she thought it was beautiful.
“You’ve been through so much. They aren’t your fault,” you assured, drawing a small heart on her upper arm. Vanessa's nose and eyes grow red.
“Vanessa?”
She pulls her arm away and stares at the paint. She shakes her head and lowers her sleeve, not caring whether she ruined her work shirt.
“Ness—”
“Do you think all this will go away with a few words and paint?” Vanessa spat as hot tears rolled down her cheek. Her eyes and demeanor felt like she was a whole different person.
“Unlike your little art projects, these cant be painted over.”
“No that's not what I was trying to do!”
Vanessa holds out a hand to your face, signaling for you to stop. You try to comfort her but she refuses to touch you “Stop!” She shoves you into the couch, leaving you stunned.
“Ness…” you exhaled. She stands over you, eyes wide, regretting what she had done..
“Leave,” was all she could muster.
“Ness, I’m sorry, don’t—”
“You’ve done enough. Just leave.” She turns around, sniffling before letting out a broken “please.”
You silently nod as you push yourself off of the couch and leave her house without sparing her a second glance. The door shutting harshly behind you.
In the solitude of her house, Vanessa pulls up her stained sleeves, the body paint smudged and ruined. Standing in the middle of her empty house, she tearfully sighs as she makes her way to the bathroom, stripping herself of her work clothes. She stands in front of the half-mirror, observing her scarred naked body that she's hidden away from you for so long. A body that you loved despite its flaws.
She runs the water and turns on the shower head. Stepping into the running water, she watches as the gold paint washes off her body, revealing her scars underneath. The stress from work had eaten her up alive till she took it out of you verbally and physically, you, the one who put up with her nightmares, her her past, her trauma.
After showering and dressing, Vanessa lies in her bed. It was weird not having you by her side. Her house became yours once you two made things official. You barely stepped foot in your place. She wonders what you were doing, crying, screaming, breaking something or cursing her out. It broke her not knowing.
She picks up the phone, the light blinding her. She unlocks it and looks through her notifications, expecting to see a text or missed call from you, but there is nothing from you. She searches for your contact, her finger hovering over the call button next to your name, debating for a second until she decides to press it. The phone rang and rang until your voice made her sit up.
“Voicemail…” she grumbles, hanging up and tossing her phone somewhere on the bed. Maybe a little space wasnt so bad. The two of you never fought like this before, tensions were high and who knows what would happen.
You shut the door gently, your home felt so foreign to you. Standing in the middle of your doorway, you felt so small and out of place. Everything felt so familiar yet none felt like it belong to you.
As you removed your jacket, you felt a buzzing coming from your pocket. You jump, rushing to take out your phone hoping it was vanessa. Your face lights up seeing her name on your phone but quickly falls.
You allow the phone to ring, placing it back into your pocket and continuing on with your night in your estranged home.
“I should clean soon.” Your finger touches the table near the entrance, a layer of dust comes off. Wiping it off on your pants to head to the kitchen to get some water. You felt dehydrated after the ride home, driving teary eyed at night you were surprised you weren't involved in an accident.
You sit alone on at your dining table, cup of water in hand, house silent and bright letting passerby's know someone still lives here.
Placing down the cup of water on the table resounds with a soft clink. Your phone was in the front of your mind, itching to be used.
“Let her come to you,” you told yourself as you took the last sip of water. The coolness soothes your aching throat. Everything was fine. You were holding it together perfectly, until you broke.
The cup shatters under your right hand as you slam it against the table. The tiny shard pierced into your skin. You were too upset to feel the pain or blood dripping from your hand to notice in the moment. Until you placed you hand down onto the table to push yourseld up.
“Ah!” you cry, finally assessing the damage in your palm. Small pieces of glass poked out of your palm, blood pooling near the shards. You pick out the tiny shards shakily with your other hand. Some pieces were too deep to pick out, and it was too late to drive to a hospital when you had work in the morning.
Your phone vibrates again in your pocket, you ignore it. Rushing to the bathroom, you run your hand under water, trying to rinse out the shards. Terrible idea.
You wince in pain. It felt like the shards were pushing deeper into your skin. You phone rang again, you were growing annoyed now by the back to back calls.
Then it rings again.
And again.
And again.
Your phone was in your right pocket. Even if you wanted to answer it would’ve been painful to maneuver to answer and the shards would've only dug deeper.
You got to the point where you kicked your sink, stumbling back almost falling. “Dammit Vanessa.” you sigh, looking at your disheveled reflection in the mirror. Eyes puffy, nose red, cheeks stained with your tears.
Someone knocked on the door like they were about to break it down. You sigh in frustration. There was only one person who’d come around at this time of night. You planned to ignore her like you did her calls, but if she was crazy enough to come to your house in the middle of the night who knows what else she might do.
“Coming!”
You announce, quickly you wrap your hand in a bandage wrap you found in your medicine cabinet, your hand still bled but it seemed to subside a for now. All you could do was hope she’d leave quickly so you could continue tending to your hand. Vanessa would go insane if she knew you were hurt.
You rush to the door not bothering to look through the peephole. Opening the door revealed the blonde you loved. She stood at your doorstep in casual clothes, hair wet, face red, and phone to her ear.
You hide your hand behind your back as subtly as you could. Vanessa puts away her phone and moves forward, ready to embrace you out of habit but stops herself.
“Hey,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Hey,” you repeated, looking down at your shoes. “Can we talk?”
You nodded without a second to waste. Stepping aside, you allowed Vanessa in. “It's so you in here.” she whispers, looking around at the decor you had so carefully picked out. “Yeah, it feels weird being here again like this,” you stated flatly. The corner of Vanessa's lip twitches.
“Listen,” she says, placing her hands in her pockets. “I’m so sorry for what I did, you meant well and—”
“No it was a stupid idea. I just, I wanted to show you how I seen you. How I love you.” You shook your head, trying hard not to say something you’ll regret. Vanessas eyes soften as she takes your hands in hers. You wince. shit.
She gasps, her eyes widening as she brings your hand to her face. “What happened?!” Even though the bandages were bloody. They didn't need to be changed yet. You had to take it off soon anyway in order to remove the rest of the shards.
“I smashed a cup, but I'm okay!” you tried to shake your hand away, she held onto your wrist tightly. She looked like she was about to lose it again, which made you a little scared.
“It's all my fault. I'm so sorry, my love. Come here.” She pulls you into the bathroom, not paying attention to a word you’re saying.
“I'm okay! Vanessa, please let me go!”
Vanessa shook her head, unwrapping the bandages, revealing your bloodied and glass-covered palm. Carefully she picks them out with her nails. She needed something stronger to grab the deeper ones.
“Tweezers are in there,” you point towards the drawer under the sink. Vanessa opens it and obtains the tweezers before continuing picking out the glass. It was a silent and intimate moment. You stood together in the bathroom for what felt like hours as she meticulously picked out the little shards one by one, placing them on the edge of the sink to be thrown away later.
“You didn’t need to do this, Ness.” Your voice came out softer than expected for someone who was still upset. Vanessa gently smiles and shakes her head. “I know, but its the least I could do after… hurting you.” she muttered the last part. You could see how her face changed once the words came out of her mouth.
“Ness, you’re nothing like him you know that.”
Her jaw trembles. She remained quiet. “You’re amazing and kind and loving, and I know you wont do it again, you didn't mean any harm and we’ll grow from this.”
After Vanessa finished picking out the glass, she moved your hand closer to her face, making sure all the glass was out. Then she turns your hand and kisses the back of your hand.
“I'm so sorry,” she kisses it again, then wraps it in a fresh bandage. Her touch was light, like she was afraid she would make things worse if she accidentally hurt you. “Don't leave me.”
Your other hand finds its way to her cheek, you bring her face closer to yours until your lips find each other. Strands of her wet hair tickled your face as it stuck onto you.
You pull away laughing quietly.
“What's wrong?”
“Your hair,” you giggle, running your fingers through her wet hair and then scratching her scalp.
“What does my hair have to do with anything?” she asks, confused. You however seen an opportunity. “I need someone to nurse me back to health.” you sigh, holding up your wounded hand and pouting. Vanessa closes her eyes, trying hard not to smile.
“Good luck finding someone.” Vanessa crosses her arms and shifts her weight onto her left leg. Finally, things were feeling a bit more normal again.
“But I already have! She's this really pretty blonde cop with green eyes and freckles, do you know her?”
Vanessa shrugs, shaking her head. “Eh, not sure. Why don’t we go find her, hm?” She guides you out of the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her.
“Oh, I need to clean the glass!” Vanessa stops you before you could take another step. “No, go rest. I’ll clean it,” she insists. “But you—”
“I want to make it up to you,” she says, kissing your cheek, turning her gaze to your room. “Go rest, maybe later we can try that thing again? With the paint…” she fiddles with her fingers, growing nervous of what you might say. “I didn't appreciate the patterns you made earlier, the gold was beautiful.”
You let out a breathy laugh and nod. “Sure, Ness, we can do that.”
Vanessa perks up, beaming with glee. “I’m sorry,” she says again, this time you’re the one placing a hand on her mouth, shushing her. “I know Nessy, now go hurry so we can cuddle!”
You head to your room, the bed felt so cold and unused. You waited for Vanessa to finish cleaning the class from the table. After she was done, she made her way into the room. “Okay, I—” she cut herself off. You were already tucked into bed, there was space for her in the bed but you looked so peaceful she was almost afriad to disturb you.
“Nessy, come here.” you sleepily reach for her. Vanessa couldn't deny you of what you wanted. She turned off the lamp on your bedside table and then carefully got into bed next to you, wrapping the blankets around herself and her arms around you. In the dark, she couldn't see the scars that plagued her body, nor could she see the person she loved most in her arms, yet she knew you were there and loved you even in the dark. Just like how you loved her and her scars.
Vanessa traced over your features as you slept and made a promise to herself.
“I’ll never let him touch you.”
After that night, her scars served as a reminder of her silent promise to you, maybe there was beauty in them after all.
@dsalcy thank you for gifting us with this delicious meal, i am so down bad for genderbent könig i will die for her
which brings me to this:
reader meeting könig for the first time and seeing this absolute unit of a woman, tall and muscly and that amazing soft layer of chub all over her body? you’re staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, head tilted back to admire her full beauty
and she’s staring down at you, an eyebrow lifted curiously at the tiny thing watching her, she never thought someone would look at her with that level of awe, she knows she’s decently attractive but this?
makes her feel like she could conquer the world, you’re looking at her like she hung the stars and moon in the sky and like she could break your back (you’d thank her) with no more than a soft grunt
she tries to get your attention, snap you back in the land of the living, snaps her fingers in front of your eyes before leaning down to look you in the eyes and starts saying something
but when she gets close enough and you can smell her? and feel the warmth coming from her body? you can only whimper a quiet ‘mommy’, cheeks burning and eyes wide
she’s surprised, eyebrows lifting beyond the top of the holes in her hood, before she laughs, a full belly laugh that has your heart skipping a beat and your brain melting even more
