Fungers + an s/o who likes to (affectionately) bully them
Characters: Henryk, Karin, Levi, Daan, Marina
Henryk is someone who needs earnest conversations with people. He is naturally chatty, bright and curious, and also - with kindness in my heart when I say this, annoying. Heās the most likely to initiate teasing (thinking heās being very suave), but heās also really sensitive, so when you tease back he goes like āhaā with a fake smile and then itās a whole thing. Heās not a suave guy. Donāt bully him. Heāll get sad.
Karin is definitely the kind of person who can dish it out but canāt take it. She has a fragile ego (lovingly) and sheās so quick to rile up that she never comes out on top in these encounters. Sheās always been the kind of person who wears her heart on her sleeve; no matter how much she tries to toughen up, she falls in love easy. So itās not really difficult to ruffle her feathers or fluster her. The fastest way is to tease her about her height. She likes the competition. Sheās the kind of person who likes to play-fight, either with words or physically (beating the absolute shit out of you with pillows) she just doesnāt like that sheās usually the loser. So if youāre nice, you should let her win sometimes on purpose. (So she doesnāt strangle you next time).
Please do not bully Levi, he will just sit there and take it and make you feel like a total asshole. Itās like kicking a puppy. Heāll just roll over and lie there and everyone will think youāre a monster for the rest of your waking life.
Please do bully Daan! He likes it! Heās a good sport about it. Nothing really hurts his feelings, and he never goes too far to hurt yours. He missed having a back-and-forth conversation for so long. Heās a naturally intuitive man, he notices the crease of your eyes when you smile and every subtle movement of your body. Nothing will be lost on him, he can read you like a book, and he thinks itās so cute. He could be mean to you, but he always lets you win, just because he thinks your smug expression is adorable. (Try to lay off on the comments about his pants please, he thinks theyāre quite fetching.)
Marina will be the one who teases you, not the other way around. Sheās nefarious about it too. Sheāll have you questioning your own sanity. The moment you start teasing her - no matter how innocent or small of a joke it was - youāve forfeited your dignity for the rest of your life. She has no rules. No boundaries. She will stop at nothing to make you squeal.
here's something cute: Shy! reader crushing hard on Henryk and while they try to make it not known, it's not working. Everyone can see they are blushing hard if he looks their way. Even him. Would he think it's cute? maybe some fluff?
Just one glance and it will end. Atleast that is what you told yourself. You can't take your eyes on him.
His blond hair... You can imagine how soft they must be, just like silk. If you close your eyes, you can imagine your hands going though them-
No! You are staring at him, he will notice you! You look at the grass. Don't make it too obvious! Don't let Henryk notice you!
...
One peek can't hurt..?
Once again, you take your eyes on the grass. Oh, he must be a siren. You are getting sucked to them. The way he looks when working-
"You are making this too obvious." Olivia calls to you. You look at her.
"What do you mean?" You already know what she's talking about.
"Go talk to him." She is smirking, you feel your face gatting hotter. You look up to Henryk, he's looking at to you! HE NOTICED!
"You thought you were subtle?" Now she is making fun of you! "We all noticed." Olivia closes her mouth with her hand. You gulp.
"But what if-"
"No buts!" You sigh and get up. Olivia gives you thumps up, encouraging you to continue. You smile at her.
One step at the time.
You can feel everyone's stares, they are watching you. Were you too obivous?
Another step.
Henryk looks up to you, he smiles at you. Oh gods, hope your cheeks aren't too red!
Step after step, you finally next to each other. His smile bright as sun's.
"So... Was I that handsome to watch?" HE KNOWS!!!!! "Don't be upset! I... I like you too."
...
He WHAT??
"Would you like to go on a date sometime?" He reachs to you. You hold his hand.
omg I loved your lil Henryk fic, could I ask for something nsfw? Some general headcanons perhaps? If that's okay of course! C:
this has been in my inbox so long i'm ashamed anon. ASHAMED i say... so have some henryk munch agenda blurb
~~~
"Come on, lovely," he beams, "More weight, please?"
"So scrawny," you frown, "What if I crush you?"
In protest, Henryk bites at the inside of your thigh, chuckling at your jolt and hiss, "Have more faith in me! I'm a man, aren't I? If I can't handle a bit of face-sitting, I should die."
"Don't joke about- !"
Your retort is chopped into mince moans as Henryk cranes his neck to bury his face in your cunt. Hands yank at flaxen hair and he's thriving between your legs, his own fingers bruising into the fat of your ass.
Pliant to the warm, wet affection of his tongue, you eventually cave and lower on his face. Raspy moans are cupped back, dread filling you at the prospect of a noise complaint. Henryk makes it obvious how little he cares for the neighbor's input as he's loudly groaning and mewling for more, more, more of your taste.
One hand slinks under his jaw so he can press a digit inside you while his tongue circles your clit. The pad of his finger dives deep, curling in that way that makes you squeal and kick.
"Hen'!" you coo, all reservations melting away, "Hen'! Fuck, Hen', so good...!"
Braindead to anything outside of licking your slick, Henryk can only spare a moment of thought to tease you, "That's it, darling, you should just listen next time I ask you to sit, huh?"
Dude is a stoic king in the morning but keeps secretly checking on you in the middle of the night to see if you're still there and hadn't run off, then you catch him in the act one time and he's just standing there not knowing how to explain himself please don't leave him
Warnings and Tags: English is not my native, Festival of Termina timeline, mention violence, guns, smoking
You with the dark curls
You tug the yellow material off O'saa's head as you stand together on the dust-heavy mattress, running your fingers through his curly hair. He lets out a rough, chest-heavy sigh, finally feeling the tension leave his body as your fingers skim over his scalp. You run your fingers through the curls and thick strands, not realizing you're humming a tune in tune with his raspy sighs.
You with the watercolored eyes
Henryk frowns slightly as he chops the vegetables into fine strips with practiced movements. A few strands of hair fall out of his hair, obscuring his eyes for a few moments, but soon he looks up at you. The candlelight that lights up the basement of the town hall catches his pale eyes as he watches your movements. Distracted by his actions, you almost forget that you should have been stirring the thick sauce the entire time.
You who bears all your teeth in every smile
Pav slowly takes out his gun and, grinning predatorily, without breaking eye contact, runs the barrel along the line of your jaw. He is not threatening, he is showing off, suddenly pressing his body into you, closer, rougher, he puts out his hand and shoots somewhere behind you, stunning you in one ear. That clanking sound somewhere behind you, that was instilling primal terror onto you, not allowing you to turn around all this , finally disappears. He grins at you again, in your face, so that you feel his warm breath on your face.
Says I can always hear you sing, I wanna hear you speak to me
August speaks in moralizing tones, he makes up legends, he tells things that have been covered by centuries of dust. He looks down on you while he says these things, you feel small and barely born next to him. The only thing you want is for him to really talk to you. Not pompously, not to the tune of ancient books, not as a mentor. But as a person.
While a stranger braids my hair back out on the street
Marcoh looks the same, the same as that young, ambitious man from the streets. But there is a gap between you and him in what you two have done. You look at him, so familiar, but those wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, that weariness in his face, make him a stranger. You look back at him when you pass by on the train, he catches your gaze, looks after you... and turns away to his reflection in the glass.
And while you were asleep, I was surely awake
Levi is shaking as he lies curled up on the flat floor of the basement kitchen. He shudders and occasionally thumps his head against the floor. The only thing you can do is put your hands under his shaking head, looking around for some kind of fabric. You run your fingers over his scalp to somehow ease his pain. To tell him he's not alone. And to shut him up when he breaks into convulsive screams and moans. If only the creatures upstairs don't notice you.
I was talking at a cigarette
Thereās nothing left to say
Daan takes a long, heavy drag and exhales a cloud of thick, tart smoke at you. You inhale it. The smoke, Daan, the silence that has enveloped you. The cigarette in your hands has long since turned into a butt, the cooled filter staining your hands with ash. The man inhales, as if he has something to say, and the phrase fades away without ever being spoken. He drags on again. Each phrase disappears in a new drag. You donāt even try to speak anymore. You just ask him for another cigarette.
could you write some general henryk x reader headcanons please? maybe some NSFW if you want to? <:3c
Mr Goulash š«¶
SFW
Kind of a puppy dog man. He canāt be left alone for more than 5 seconds without getting antsy.
When heās at work at Klimkovās he always calls you on his lunch break and is like twirling his hair and shit. Then his coworkers bully him about it
Heās very attentive to you. This can be both a good and bad thing.
Good as in he always buys you little trinkets you notice in shop windows. He remembers everything you say like your favorite color, favorite animal, everything. He always holds doors open for you and remembers special dates.
Bad as in if you leave the house without giving him a kiss he goes ādo you hate meā¦ā¦ā¦.ā
Henryk will allow you to be in the kitchen while he cooks and will always take your suggestions for dinner. This doesnāt sound like that big of a deal but when anybody else bothers him about cooking he goes āšā. Only important people get to bug him in the kitchenā¦.
Most common nicknames are āhon/honeyā or the good old fashioned ādearā. Over the top nicknames make him embarassed and squirmy. Another good way to make him squirm is calling him āhenā or āhen-hen.ā He does NOT like it. (He doesnāt stop you, though).
He has wrote poems for you but never liked any of them. He would genuinely die of embarrassment if you saw any of them so theyāre hidden well.
Eventually youād have to meet his mother. Sheās a sweet little old lady who runs the kitchen he works in. (Henryk always tries to convince her to retire but she refuses.)
Sheād tell you embarassing stories about Henryk as a kid to make him panic.
He wants to have kids someday, but is insecure about being a good father. If it came down to it, could he really provide for a family? Not even financially, but emotionally? Ultimately heād count on you to make the final decision. Heād be happy regardless.
NSFW
An eater ššš
Most of his fantasies revolve around oral sex. Giving or receiving is irrelevant. What genitals you have donāt matter, either. The thing that gets him going the most is tasting itā¦ he always finishes the fastest when itās in your mouth. Canāt help itā¦
He will literally whimper if youāre playing with yourself and heās not allowed to taste. Not even once š„ŗ
He likes if itās on the rougher side, if you pull his hair or allow him to pull yours. And yes, he eats ass too. Though it takes a lot of convincing if you want to eat his.
On the topic of butt stuff, heās never tried it before and shies away from it if you bring it up. Not that heās never thought about it before. Youād have to start slow, maybe a finger at first.
Really really really wants you to sit on his face. Hard. Like, ride him. The oral fixation is so strong in this one.
Heās a pervert he likes the scent of your crotch. Heāll push your legs apart and rub his face on it and huff it like drugs.
During penetrative sex he prefers to be on the bottom with you riding him. He likes the view and he loves the feeling of holding your hips down while you grind on him. Heās also obsessed with the wet noises when he thrusts.
Has a fairly high libido. Would ideally like to have sex three times a week or more.
Please.. anything for Henrykā¦ I love my loser malewifeā¦ Iām starving ā¦
833 words / notes - milk toast fluff, gender neutral, not even re-read for an edit
summary - you work as a waitress at kimikov's with henryk as the chef! he's kind of a weirdo, but at least he's handsome and shares food
~~~
Lady and Sir of Kimikovās are exceptional bosses. More often you encounter the lady, a sweet woman edging sixty, as she handles more of the front end service of their family restaurant. Her husband, mild-mannered and humble pushing seventy, is usually stowed in the back office to count bills and manage expenses. Naturally, you prefer Lady, but youāll happily force an encounter with Sir if it means not having to speak with their useless son.
Useless is harsh, he is the cook after all.
Does not make you any less annoyed with him, though. All he does is stare. Petrifying blues boring into your frame as you flit this way and that on the floor, carrying platters of his cooking to mellow regulars and starry-eyed newcomers. You always feel his gaze on your back, bleeding you out like a leech and having the audacity to coyly look away when you catch him.
Today, even. Fresh off a Saturday lunch rush, youāre leaning against one of the walls closest to the kitchen door. Legs jellied and arms burning from the prolonged straining when you spot him again. Shamelessly blinking out at you through the window into the kitchen, then startling back and jerking his gaze away when he realizes youāre staring back.
Kimikovās front door squeals open, you push off the wall to greet and serve until Lady Kimikov lays a shaky hand on your shoulder. She smiles and shakes her head, cooing quietly, āRest awhile, dear, you havenāt had your own lunch yet, have you?ā
You shake your head and she passes to seat the couple in a freshly cleaned booth.
āUh- ā calls from the kitchen, āHeyā¦ā
Turning, you see Henryk leaning out of the window -- unable to meet your eyes, but cheeks aflame with red. Heās pushing a plate towards you.
āFor me?ā you ask redundantly.
He nods.
You push open the door to the kitchen and come around to snatch the plate, sitting beside Henryk at one of the stools his poor old father uses. Steaming pierogi that make your mouth water, but before you can pluck one tentatively between your fingers, curiosity stops you.
āDo I have to pay for this?ā
To avoid locking eyes with you, he glances out at the patrons taken by his mother. Henryk folds his arms and leans against the counter in faux nonchalance, āNo. No, donāt worry about it. If my parents say anything, Iāll handle it.ā
āReally now?ā
The shallow boldness deflates from him instantly, Henryk frowns at you with a forced chuckle, āAm I so easy to read?ā
āI just know you,ā you wave his worries, giving in to your hunger and fiending on the dish in your lap, āYou make excellent security to strangers.ā
He snorts at that, āPapa could only scare off childrenā¦ Well-behaved children, at that.ā
āSo specific.ā
āChildren hardened and accustomed to the streets will find nothing to fear in my father,ā Henryk sighs, though his tone is alight and delighted like what heās admitting is a point of pride, āNot that heād willingly frighten children anyway.ā
āMhm,ā you hum around the soft potato and melted cheese in your mouth, savoring the flavors, āās is good.ā
āIs it?ā if Henryk had to approximate, he hears that (or some variation ofĀ compliments to the chef) around thirty times a day -- when it's slow -- but for some odd reason, it weighs heavier when you say it, āYou mean it?ā
āDelicious!ā
āThank youā¦ā he looks down at his feet bashfully.
āYouāre so easy to read,ā you blurt.
Rather than fighting the accusation, Henryk takes the order ticket from his approaching mother and muses, āDid you know I wanted to be an actor as a kid?ā
āNo!ā
āYes,ā he crosses the floor to wash his hands before cooking, āWhat a nightmare that wouldāve been, huh?ā
āIām glad you found culinary instead,ā at your half-baked confession, Henryk pauses. Finally, his eyes find yours, they scan from your head to your feet and back into your eyes. Digging for more, a silent prayer for you to continue. To say what he wants to hear.
HeāsĀ soĀ easy to read.
āIf you hadnāt,ā so you do continue, āthen we wouldnāt have met. Or at least, wouldnāt see each other every day.ā
āThatās a plus?ā he asks unsurely.
āWho would I be if I didnāt have you watching me all the time?ā you tease, and he shakes his head, eyes clenching in obvious embarrassment.
āHow terrible of meā¦ā
āMaybe just do this from now on instead,ā you raise your plate, āMuch more inviting.ā
āIāll keep it in mind,ā he turns away again, slower and more hesitant. Visibly unwilling to return to work.
āGood,ā and now you search him, every muscle twinge and flinch.
He wants to say more, you sense he feels theĀ needĀ to.
But, ultimately, he does not. Only returning a stiff, āGood.ā before devoting himself to the stove.
Oh, wellā¦ maybe next time Henryk will gather the courage to finally declare his feelings.
