TSDS Brute x Reader fanfiction (entirely self indulgent other then the two prompts given: Hurt/Comfort and Chicken) This isn't too game accurate (I think?????)
You padded along the stone floors, socks catching on the imperfections in the brick while you continued to walk down the hall. A storm had set in outside, the rain pattering against the windows blending in with your own thoughts to form soft background noise that accompanied your walk down to what you had come to name as the living room, or the common area.
It was a particularly quiet day, nothing notable had happened yet despite how particularly late in the day it was. Glare had been reading, Flint and Vile presumably sparring, Shiv... not talking to you directly, all as Nightmare did whatever he does in his free time. It was nearly mundane, if not for the countless books to read and people throughout the castle to speak with if you so choose, though considering it was only your second day... you weren't so confident yet.
Placing your palm on a hard door frame- despite the lack of door- you poked your head into the kitchen, before finally stepping over the threshold and into the spacious kitchen. The crackling sound of oil over flame filled your ears and drowned out the noise in your head.
Taking a moment to inspect the kitchen, you quickly noticed Brute standing over the fire stove, made of brick and metal. A flame crackled inside of the oven, lighting the metal above red hot as a cast iron dish sat on top of it. Ah, he was frying something.
You watched quietly from the safety of the corner, eyes dragging over every movement the large skeleton made. He had a few dishes out and a plate on the counter. Brute appeared to be breading some meat- ah chicken.
You finally gained the courage to step out from the corner and take a closer look at the skeleton's handiwork, chicken breast being fried in hot oil over a fire that you hadn't seen die yet. It could very well be magic, though you were unsure considering you didn't always wake up the earliest.
Spices mixed in with bread crumbs, giving it a gentle red hue as Brute coated chicken in it, once, twice, three times. At which point, he appeared satisfied with the amount of breading, and placed it in the pan. Then he saw you, though perhaps he had always known you were there and just choose not to acknowledge you until now. Either way, the way his gaze fixed on you made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
He lumbered over to you, eye light calculating but not cold as he looked over you, not speaking as he turned back to the pan and flipped the chicken. Then you heard his voice, a deep baritone with the rough accent you loved from the very first day, even when he tried to be threatening or even intimidating.
"... you need somethin'?"
He continued watching the chicken sizzle and fry in the pan as the smell of cooked chicken and spices wafted up through the air and settled on the tip of your senses, nice and pleasant. You took a moment before responding.
"Was wondering how you were doing. Haven't heard from you all day." You excused yourself of any ulterior motives.
"... I'm fine. Anything else you need, or are you just lingerin'?"
"Lingering."
Your voice felt too quick out of your mouth as you choked out the word. You just hadn't thought to talk to him until now, that's it. A small reassurance despite your desperate situation regarding Nightmare. No matter how much you lie to yourself, someone will find out.
He seemed unsatisfied with your answer, but said nothing, instead pulling out the chicken breast and pressing it onto some sandwich bread that he had placed on the plate. Not before cutting off a small piece however, turning his back to you while assembling the sandwich. He handed you a piece of the chicken.
"... try it, if you plan to keep on stayin' in ere'"
You took the chicken from his hand and- fuck that burns! Still hot oil douses your fingers and you drop the morsel to the floor, pulling your hands to your chest before inspecting them. That looks like atleast a nasty first degree burn. He seems to have noticed your distress, turning to look back at you far faster then usual.
"What? What appened'?" You could here a twinge of genuine concern in his voice as he bent down and inspected your fingers.
"Burnt myself on the oil." Might as well be honest with him about your injury if nothing else you feel.
Brute looked over your face before roughly tugging you over to the sink, turning on the water and running your hand under the cool liquid in attempt to soothe your burn. He didn't speak, even looking oddly focused in a way you hadn't seen him so far.
"Brute. It- it's fine, really. I can handle it." You tried to reassure the skeleton monster, but something about your words seemed to set him off.
His gaze finally settled on your facial features, tracing over the curve of your nose and the warmth on your cheeks. He then replied, voice nearly silent in what sounded like shame, another thing you hadn't seen from him yet.
"M' sorry. Didn't mean tah hurt you. Honest mistake."
Brute apologized. To you. He placed a hand on the back of your neck in a firm, comforting gesture, and looked into your eyes as though searching, then he looked away. A subtle hint of red rose to his zygomatic arches, small enough to only be noticed if you were looking.
"... you should run back off you your room now, little runt."
Something in your SOUL told you that he really wanted you to leave, more then he let on. You gave a curt nod and his hand released your neck, before slowly walking up to one of the bathrooms to find some cream for your burn.
Bonus prayer, as made by Brute's ACTUAL VOICE ACTOR: "Our Brute, who art in the kitchen, delicious be thy name. Thy breakfast won, thy steak be done, in the dining room as it is in the study. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our night terrors, as we forgive those who night-terror against us. For thine is the potato leek soup, the thyme, and the glory forever and ever"
