#wedontdeservethefics
Note
Johnny x reader with a huge family
Fem or gn pls
Thank you for the prompt, anon!! This is a short n sweet little thing, with a slight side of angst since I realized Johnny's home life was probably shit halfway through writing it lol. Hope you enjoy!
Content: gn!reader, fluff, slight angst about Johnny's distance with his parents (and dad)
“Wow. It’s so quiet,” Johnny joked. The two of you had found some solace on the porch outside, for once in the whole evening being mostly alone. You could still hear your little cousins playing in the front yard and some of your older relatives laughing as they smoked in the driveway, but here you felt like you had room to breathe.
“I know,” you laughed a little. “Sorry. I know it’s…a lot.”
“Oh, please,” Johnny rolled his eyes. “This is nothing. At least no one here is constantly asking for a picture or for me to join in on some kinda celebrity-marketing-business-thingy.”
A shrill giggle came from the yard, and it was unmistakable. “Except for–”
“Yes,” he nodded rather seriously. “Except for Lizzy. I would trust her business plans with a blindfold on and my hands tied behind my back.”
You had gotten mixed reactions from everyone in your family when they saw who your partner was. Your parents and siblings had known for a little while, though you tried to keep it on the down-low that you were dating one of the richest and most famous men in Hollywood. But the reunion was something you went to every year and truly enjoyed. Your family was enormous and stressful, but you loved them and enjoyed being with them. It had been over a year since you’d gotten with Johnny, and you felt that now was the time to introduce everyone to him. Your grandparents and older relatives, for the most part, were lost on who Johnny was. Your parents were both impressed and protective of you. Your siblings were either jealous or flat-out didn’t believe you until they saw his Agera pull up in the driveway.
Your cousins who were old enough to recognize Johnny were equally starstruck, but one in particular, the barely-teenaged Lizzy, had hardly left you two alone from the moment you arrived at your parents’ house. Between excited gasps and nervous giggles and lots of hair-twirling, she’d spent the evening desperately trying to rope Johnny into starring in her various movie ideas. Johnny played along stoically, even removing his sunglasses to listen and nod as she detailed plots about superhero dogs and haunted pillows and a hamster who was running for president. By the end of the night, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d managed to snag his number so they could continue discussing his potential roles and payment later in the coming weeks.
“Can you blame her?” you asked with a chuckle. “Imagine if when you were little your cousin was dating, like, Harrison Ford, or something.”
“Hey, I’m not blaming anyone! That kid’s going places. She’s just trying to invest early.” Johnny turned and you his profile caught in the golden glow of a summer sunset. It struck you, not for the first time in the past few minutes, how pretty he was. You especially loved the sparkle in his eyes and the curve of his nose in this light.
“She’s a smart one,” you agreed, half-paying attention.
Johnny took a long sip of his drink as he leaned on the railing of your porch, humming softly to himself. You took a moment to scan the surrounding area of your childhood home. It felt strange to be back here with him. It was like two worlds colliding, and while it wasn’t unpleasant to share your family and homelife with him, it felt odd. Almost like a dream state.
“So, are you liking all this? I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to…”
“Like it?” He seemed surprised. “Oh, man. I love it.”
“Really?” You couldn’t help a childishly excited tone from entering your voice. He smiled at this, his dimples creasing as he did so.
“Sure! It’s, uh…rustic.” His brow furrowed for a second. “Well, no. That’s not the right word. It’s…”
Your face fell a little as he sighed. His own smile was fading.
“I didn’t really…have this growing up. Y’know? My dad, he was never big on his own family. So I never really saw my grandparents, or my aunts or uncles or anything. My mom didn’t have a big connection with hers either. I don’t think my dad helped that. So a lot of the time it was just us three. And…God. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring the mood down. I’m just tryin’ to say that this is all really, really nice.”
“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, y’know, everyone here…they’re all your family too, now. You know that, right?”
“I guess that’s true.” He brightened. “Yeah. Family.”
“You’re one of us now.” You grinned and leaned against him. “And even if you are some big-shot A-list movie star, they’ll love you as long as I do.”
“Sooo, like, another three months?” he teased, calculating on his fingers. You giggled.
“Count your days, Cage.” You watched as a group of kids chased each other around the yard and neared the porch, clamoring about rules and squealing with laughs. Among them, Lizzy played, stopping only for a moment to gaze at both of you (Johnny more-so). “Although, if the way things have been going tonight are indicative of anything, you might have a rebound date in your future…”
“Oh, she can find a better Prince Charming, I’m sure,” Johnny chuckled. He waved to her, and Lizzy looked like she might just implode. Her big eyes grew bigger and bigger and she remained still as a statue until her little sister bumped into her, and then, after only one more glance over her shoulder, she was right back in the game.
“Ooh, Prince Charming.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I like that.”
“Well, it fits. I treat you like royalty for a reason.” He pulled your face into his hand and kissed you fully, trailing his thumb along your jaw. When you pulled away, you had a permanent smile painted on your lips.
“Pretty,” he murmured. He had a similar look on his face.
“Look in a mirror,” you shot back kindly.
“A magic mirror?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.
“C’mon. I think dinner’s almost ready.” Tugging his hand, you started towards the door inside.
“Ooh, I can’t wait to try your mom’s food. That kitchen smelled so damn good earlier…”
“You’re gonna love it.” You gave him a backwards glance. “Seriously, if that doesn’t lure you into this family, then nothing will.”
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JOHNNY CAGE X SHORT CHUBBY READER I TELL YOU HE LOVES HIS WOMEN THICC
ANON I'M NOT EVEN GONNA SAY THIS A CORRECT OPINION BECAUSE IT'S SO CORRECT THAT IT'S A STRAIGHT-UP FACT. Johnny prefers his girls chubby change my mind!!!!!!!!!!! (Hint: you cannot)
Anyways I know I say that I never write smut but I uh. I did this time. Congrats anon you got me to come out of my shell for Our Boy
Content: reader has female genitalia, smut, fluff, body worship, overall just a Lovely Time between you two
(Pspspsps I also put this on AO3 if anyone would like the link for that teehee)
You had no idea what it was about red carpet events that made Johnny up act but, but every time he invited you out to accompany him, it was a constant fight not to let the paparazzi see his hands all over you. Not that you minded much, but hey, one of you had to have some decency. Maybe it was the stream of complementary alcohol, maybe it was seeing you all dolled up in a pretty silk dress, maybe it was the inherent nature of red carpet events essentially being an excuse to say, “Hey, look how pretty I am, look how pretty my partner is,” or maybe, just maybe, it was a combination of all three.
Never mind, you thought as Johnny pushed you up against the front door. It’s definitely the dress.
Just like they had been for the past few hours, his large hands were grabbing and squeezing ever part of you he could manage like a fucking kid in the pillow section at Bed, Bath & Beyond. And the more he felt each curve, the more excited he seemed to be getting, attacking your throat and shoulders and face with his mouth.
“Hey,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Easy.”
“Don’t know–” Another kiss on your neck. “What you’re talkin’ about–” This one landed on your soft jawline. “Doll–”
“Can we at least get to the couch or something before I’m fully nude this time?” you whispered, a smirk playing on your lips. Johnny looked at you very seriously and shook his head.
“No shot.” He grabbed he straps of your dress and, with a not-too-unhappy sigh, you slipped your arms out of them. Your puppy of a boyfriend knelt in front of you and slowly, teasing both you and himself, pulled the front of your dress down. He really did love how it looked on you, the tight material hugging every single rondure and roll, the deep red shimmering in each crease of the fabric. But even more than he loved you in that dress, he loved you out of that dress.
You let out a soft sound as his hot sigh of breath tickled your skin when he saw you standing there just in your bra and panties. Without fail, he always acted as though he was seeing you for the first time whenever you were in any state of undress.
“Fucking goddess,” he murmured, and then his lips were all over your front. He was hugging your thick thighs like they were the only thing that would save him. His mouth dragged all around your belly and chest, pausing on occasion to kiss more deliberately or nibble a piece of soft skin. Each pause earned a small gasp or sigh from you.
“Johnny,” you whispered.
“Huhm?” He glanced up at you, midway through giving one of your love handles a hickey and not bothering to stop.
“You’re…” Your thoughts swam madly. The only thing you could focus clearly on were the warm tingles coursing through your nerves. You could hardly put a sentence together. “I need you on top of me…”
A smirk fell upon his lips and he pulled away from your tummy, admiring his work for a moment. Then, he grabbed your ass with both hands and squeezed hard, humming.
“I can do that.”
In a flash, he was lifting you into his arms. You couldn’t stop a smile from coming across your lips–somehow it always surprised you when he carried you, even though you knew that he was more than strong enough to support your weight. All that time spent building up his muscles wasn’t just for show.
Your bedroom was an agonizingly long way away up a whole entire flight of stairs. Clearly, Johnny couldn’t wait that long, because he brought you to the nearest couch instead (well, technically it was a fainting couch; Johnny said he needed it for dramatics, whatever that meant).
Johnny wasted no time in unhooking your bra and discarding it on the floor. Your panties were next. The velvet sofa felt foreign against your bare skin, but not unwelcome. He took a breath as he straddled you and began to unbutton his dress shirt. The whole while, he stared down at you. His brown doe-eyes gleamed with adoration.
“Look at you,” his voice rumbled like distant thunder.
“You’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?”
“Ohhh, longer than that,” he chuckled. His hands were tracing you again. He couldn’t seem to help himself. “I’m always thinking about this, stardust.”
“It’s so hard to tell,” you teased, your own fingers dancing along his toned thighs. His skin felt hot, and you didn’t think it was just because of the Californian summer heat.
“Like it’s my fault?” He leaned down and peppered kisses all along one of your breasts. Pausing before continuing on, he grinned up at you, “How’m I supposed to keep it in my pants when I have the most gorgeous girl on earth around me all the time?”
A moan slipped out of you as he pulled your nipple between his teeth and grabbed the other between his thumb and forefinger. You squirmed beneath him and tried to get a coherent response out.
“Can–God–can you–” Your breath was short. “Need you to touch me…”
“Yes, ma’am.” Johnny gladly slid himself down, taking the time to admire and graze your belly with his mouth. You could feel how hard he was against your plush thighs, one of which he grabbed and hung up over the back of the couch while the other he spread so it swayed over the floor.
“God damn, you’re so fucking wet already, aren’t you?” he grinned, running a finger up your folds. You felt it all the way through your spine and it made you buck your hips up.
“Uh-huh,” you nodded, dazed.
His tongue was next, pressing hard against you and flicking expertly between your sensitive lips. A sound that you had never made in your entire life escaped your throat. It only seemed to encourage Johnny as he quickened his pace. For once, he was completely silent save for the occasional grunt or groan, and for the absolute most blissful reason possible. You wanted to praise him, tell him to keep going and that you loved him and that you were in heaven right now, but your words wouldn’t work. Fortunately, the way you were moaning was probably sending the message pretty clearly.
You grabbed a fistful of his hair, watching his head bob beneath you. From the way his own hips moved, you could tell he was rubbing his bulge against the couch as he worked on you. His hand, not to go unexercised, gripped one of your thighs–the one propped up on the backseat–and began to massage it. In turn, you yanked on his hair, making his groans vibrate against your pussy. You did it again and again, feeling your heart race. Warmth built up in your chest, and your stomach, and especially your nethers.
After a bit, you pulled his hair more gently, guiding his mouth away from you. Johnny seemed confused and hazy, like he’d just been pulled out of a dream. “I don’t wanna cum yet,” you whispered. You were too close, and too fast. You needed this to last.
“Can do, babe.” He flashed a smile and sat up. “Gives me some time for this…”
You watched as Johnny finally pushed his slacks down and pulled his length out of his boxer-briefs. He was throbbing and hard, and as he began to stroke himself you could see his tip glistening with precum.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he groaned, leaning his head back as he ran his thumb over his slit.
Suddenly, you decided that you did need to cum. Right now, in fact. You grabbed his hips and guided them forward, an eager look in your eyes. Immediately, Johnny understood.
“Yeah?” he breathed, his lips curving into a smirk.
“Please,” you nodded. Johnny spat into his hand and rubbed it along himself. He tilted your rear up a bit and positioned himself at your entrance. He paused and looked down at you. He smiled.
“What?” you breathed.
The smile, mischievous and greedy, widened. He didn’t move. You let out a whine and pouted.
“Johnny! Don’t—don’t tease, I can’t right now—“
“Then tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me how much you want it.”
“Please?” You looked up at him with shiny eyes. “Please fuck me…”
He pushed forward—just enough to brush up against you. “I’m not convinced.”
“Please!” you cried out again. “I need it so bad, you feel so good, and—and I wanna cum, please?”
Johnny chuckled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the center of your chest.
“Only I can make you feel like this. Right, baby?”
“Right,” you nodded quickly. “Yes. You’re fucking—amazing, and, and so hot…”
“Yeah, I am,” he whispered, and then without warning he slid right into you. You let out a whimper so loud that you clapped a hand over your mouth afterwards, your cheeks turning bright red at whatever that was. Johnny chuckled breathlessly and took your hand away, pinning it behind your head.
“No, no, babe. I gotta hear all those pretty little sounds my gorgeous goddess wants to make.”
On cue, the remark made you moan. He rewarded you with a firm thrust against your soft hips. His unoccupied hand sank into your side as he pumped over and over again.
“God—so pretty—“ he muttered. His face was growing several shades darker as he continued.
“Please, please,” you begged again, curling your fingers into fists.
“You close again?” His soft voice broke through.
“Mhmm…” You writhed for a moment before letting your body flow with his, both of you bouncing back and forth. Your eyes fluttered open every now and then. Each time you did, you saw Johnny gazing down at you, his eyes lusted over but filled to the brim with complete obsession with this. With you.
“Oh–” you whispered soon, squeezing your eyes shut. “Johnny, I–I’m gonna—”
“Go ahead, princess,” he nodded, his voice husky and low in a way that you only ever heard during times like this. It drove you over the edge. With one last cry, your legs quivered and you felt yourself close around him, causing a similar moan from him, and each nerve in your system was full of warmth and complete euphoria for a split second. Your breaths began to even out. Your muscles relaxed. Johnny pulled out as you lay there, panting, and finished the job for himself above you. A warm spray landed on your tummy as he grunted and groaned, and then it was over.
Both out of breath, both smiling like idiots, both completely satisfied.
“Oh, babe,” Johnny sighed about nothing in particular. He sat back and let you shift into a more comfortable position. Everything felt warm and sticky, but you didn’t really mind.
Johnny trailed a hand up your still-wet stomach and rubbed it gently across all your belly, coating the front of it with his cum. You gave him a shaky sigh at the gesture. It felt strangely nice.
“I’d offer to clean you up, but you look so pretty like this,” he admitted, giving you a half-hearted shrug. You laughed softly as he stood up anyway and, after nearly forgetting to tug his boxers up, wandered down the hall to one of the first-floor bathrooms, leaving you to bask in the veil of after-arousal.
You didn’t even notice he’d returned until you felt the towel touch your skin, damp with warm water and no doubt imported from some European country. Once you were all cleaned up, you reluctantly sat up and noticed the dark velvet of the couch was stained where you two had been before.
“Oops,” you chuckled, feeling a little guilty for ruining the luxury fabric but not enough to regret anything.
“Eh, that’s what the maids are for,” Johnny shrugged, taking a seat beside you. He rested his head against your chest, sighing contentedly.
“I’m so tired now,” you mumbled. “We didn’t even do much…”
“Minus the whole night of drinking and partying?”
“I guess.” You rolled your eyes and rumpled his hair. The pomade he’d slicked it back with had come loose a few hours ago, leaving several strands hanging down in his face. It was cute.
“You’re pretty,” he said suddenly.
“So you’ve said.” But it still made you blush.
“I know. But I mean it. You’re the prettiest…ever,” he decided on.
“Hun,” you laughed softly. “Well, thank you.”
“I’m lucky.” He pouted for a moment as he thought. “People always say that. I get lucky breaks and lucky with auditions and lucky with all the deals…but that’s not luck. It’s charisma and talent and whatever. Lucky is, is meeting someone like you out of the blue. Finding you out of seven million people on this earth.”
“Billion.”
“Huh?”
“It’s seven billion people.”
“Whatever.” He buried his face in your chest, muffling is speech. “You get my point.”
“I do,” you whispered. You stroked his hair again and smiled as he gave you a big squeeze. You said, “I love you, too.”
#GOD#i wanna start a series of johnny x chubby!reader#Actually. As a Plus Sized Lady Myself.#ive been considering only/mainly writing for chubby readers (not that theres really that much difference between writing chubby readers vs-#--nondescript ones but its about the INCLUSION and the knowledge that a person can go into a fic without having to read 'the small of your-#--back' for the 100th time while being like bruh im fat wtf)#ANYWHO i really like how this turned out even tho i dont usually write smut!! thank you for the suggestion anon hehe#wedontdeservethefics#anon#asks#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage x fem!reader#johnny cage x chubby!reader#fem!reader#chubby!reader#mortal kombat
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Johnny Cage x Edenian Royalty reader who gives up their title and moves to Earthrealm just to be with him?
I might continue this in a later series because I like their dynamic a lot!! So in this one the reader doesn't COMPLETELY forgive up on the crown yet....but the seeds are certainly planted
Content: gn!reader, fluff, some mentions of nsfw subjects but really not a lot, alcohol, kinda just a silly little feel good fic!
(AO3 link here!)
Earthrealm was a mystery. After spending your whole life learning the ways of Outworld and studying the intricate relations between clans and kingdoms, the other plane was unknown to you in a way that you could only describe as strange. But that was okay. You liked strange. Maybe that’s what drew you to Johnny.
You had only been to Earthrealm briefly before in the days of Shinnok’s terror, and by proxy had met Johnny during that time. Almost immediately, he annoyed you. It seemed to be a common phenomenon. He was brash, rude, vain, and unapologetic about all of it–and all of that bothered you to no end. But he was strong, too, and surprisingly resilient. Even more surprising, he had saved your life on multiple occasions. Each time he pushed you out of the way of some projectile, or ran out into a battle to get ahead of you, or even just checked up on your wounds after a particularly bad fight (which, you noticed, he never did to anyone else), you started to see other things about him beyond his Hollywood-boy persona. Above all, he seemed to have a particular fascination with you.
It made you sick to your stomach. Even more than that, it made you blush, which in turn only made you feel sicker.
After everyone had returned home, bruised but victorious, you found your thoughts turning back to Johnny more often than you’d like to admit. You knew your place was here. You felt like you belonged in Edenia, and in Outworld as a whole. Your whole life so far had been spent to one day take the crown and become ruler of the kingdom. Until your travels to Earthrealm, you had never wanted anything else. But now, you found yourself drifting into your mind during important meetings, doodling on scrap paper the alien types of plants you’d encountered there, and missing the feeling of seeing your reflection in the lenses of a certain pair of sunglasses.
Your state worsened. You were chastised for being so distracted all the time and your parents, worried, even referred you to one of the doctors to see if anything was wrong with you. Of course, any unwellness you felt could be easily explained…just not to the Edenians around you.
Desperate for a cure, you made up your mind one night. Packing only a few things (you planned to return, anyways…eventually…), you snuck out in the middle of the night to one of the sacred grounds in the kingdom. This one, carved out in a cave, was home to a portal. It led to Earthrealm. You heard your father talking about the possibility of sealing it off in the future, citing that “nothing good comes from that wretched place!” You didn’t entirely agree.
After a nauseating travel across realms, trying to navigate a confusing city and an even more confusing transportation system, you wound up at the most gaudy mansion you had ever seen. You looked down at the little slip of paper in your hand–across it was scrawled Johnny’s signature, number, and address. It was something he’d given you right before you parted. You had promised to burn it the second you had time to. You had kept it in your vanity drawer ever since, though you hadn’t ever expected to use it.
Muffled, strange music met your ears as you stood on the doorstep. Beside the door was a gold plaque that read “Johnny’s Cage.” Well, this was certainly the right place. You raised your hand to knock on the heavy wooden doors, but suddenly there was some kind of barrier. What would you even say to him? You really hadn’t thought that far ahead. You only knew you wanted to see him again. Your arm slowly lowered to your side. Maybe this was a mistake. You were better off forgetting all of this, forgetting him. But…this time, you lifted your knuckles to the door. They rapped politely. You had come this far already. May as well see it through.
The door cracked open and the strange music grew louder. Tinny drums and a horn that sounded like it was underwater filled your ears along with the anxiety welling up in your throat. And, unceremoniously, there was Johnny dressed in nothing but a silk robe and a pair of brightly colored swim trunks. The second he laid eyes on you, his air of curiosity and confusion turned to one of bemused smugness.
“Oh, tell me I’m dreaming,” he chuckled as the opened the door wide. You could see the rest of his home behind him, marble walls and floors and expensive-looking art on the walls and a massive pool right in the center of his living room.
“No,” you replied, feeling more like you were the one in the dream. “I’m real.”
“And to what do I owe the pleasure, your Highness?” Johnny twirled his hand and gave a little bow. He had never really taken your royal status seriously, only ever acknowledging it in moments of tomfoolery like this. Somehow, at this moment at least, you found it endearing.
“Well…” You took a breath as you tried to decide on your angle. “You gave me your address.”
“I did!” He grinned, and then paused. “You kept it?”
“I did,” you echoed, showing him the slip of paper still clutched in your hand. “I figured it would be rude not to use it.”
“Good thing you had all those Edenian manners lessons.” He laughed at his own joke and turned with an unintentional flourish of his robe. “C’mon in. You want something to drink?”
Not wanting to embarrass yourself with guessing what little foodstuffs Outworld and Earthrealm had in common, you shook your head. “No. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” Johnny made a beeline for a bar set-up he had near the pool and started to mix himself something. Getting a better look at the inside of the mansion as you followed him inside, you could see that several of the art hangings were paintings of Johnny himself in various styles. In one, he was posing with a tiger. Vases and statues and weapons lined the corners of the rooms, almost as if the home was afraid to have a single square foot that wasn’t glimmering with something or other. Despite the organized clutter and the loud music that seemed to come from everywhere, you couldn’t help but notice that there only seemed to be only one inhabitant of the place.
“Do you live here alone?” you called out as you examined a series of trophies on a shelf.
“No! I mean, well, there’s the maids and stuff. And that little guy.” You followed his pointed finger to a little disc-shaped robot trekking across the spotless floors.
“Oh.” With a polite smile, you approached and crouched beside it. It seemed to pay you no mind, but you continued anyway. “Hello, there.”
You could hear Johnny stifle a laugh and a snort, but when you looked over at him he was faced away from you, still working on his drink. “He, uh, he doesn’t exactly talk back. But if he could I bet he’d be charmed.”
“Ah.” Trying to force a blush away from your cheeks, you stood up and watched the little thing scoot away, unbothered.
“You like it here?” Johnny asked, coming up behind you. In a strangely shaped glass was a drink so colorful it looked like it might hurt to swallow, but it seemed to refresh him nonetheless.
“It’s, uh…it’s very ‘you,’” you smiled a little, motioning to the tiger painting. Johnny laughed.
“Oh, that’s one of my favorites! Took forever to get that tiger to sit still. Fuckin’ sweet, though.” You turned to get a better look at it again, and when you looked back Johnny had inched closer to you. “So, tell me: what are you really doing here?”
“What do you mean?” you asked. That familiar irritation you often felt with him was slowly making its way back. You didn’t really mind.
“It’s just that I don’t exactly believe that you hopped dimensions on a whim.” A beat as he sipped. “Like, I know I’m irresistible, but come on.”
“Well, that’s sort of what happened,” you laughed softly. “I don’t have a big reason. I just…wanted to see you again.”
“Ohhh.” Johnny flashed you a grin. “Got the Cagester on the brain, huh? A pretty serious infection, I know.”
“You have a very…uh, memorable presence,” you decided on.
“Well, I can’t promise a cure, but I’m here to provide in any way your little royal ass wants,” he murmured, leaning in close to you. That blush you thought you’d taken care of came back with a vengeance.
“What?” was all you could muster.
“Anywhere you want,” he was grinning. “Could give you a tour of the bedroom. The couch over there is pretty comfy. Or, we could get a little freaky and head into the pool if you’re into that…”
“Johnny,” you laughed nervously. “No, I…I didn’t come here for that.”
“Oh. Really?” He frowned into his drink and then looked up at you again, incredulous. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I came because I missed you. Not your body, just you.”
“Oh,” he said again. He only seemed more confused. “Huh. That’s…that’s a new one.”
“Is that so hard to believe?” You cocked your head.
“It’s just that, uh, y’know. People don’t usually come over just to hang out or talk or whatever. They don’t usually…stay afterwards.”
“Would you like that?” you asked, guiding his cheek so he was looking at you.
“Yeah,” he breathed with a nod. His eyes, usually hidden by whatever shades he had chosen for that day, suddenly looked so full of longing. For the first time, you understood just how lonely this man was.
“Okay,” was all you said. You pulled him into a hug. His robe was soft, and so was his skin. At first, Johnny remained frozen. He didn’t seem to know how to react to such a genuine gesture. But he hugged you back, letting out a sigh that rivaled one of Atlas.
“I really, really needed this,” he muttered, chuckling tiredly.
“I can tell.”
“Eugh. Guess I don’t deserve all those Oscar’s, then.”
You didn’t know what in the world he was talking about, but before you could ask, he was already talking again.
“Y’know, I…I thought you hated me.”
“No,” you shook your head. “Not at all.”
“At all?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Well…” You huffed, smiling in spite of yourself. “You can be irritating. And loud. And arrogant.”
“But…?” He pursed his lips, waiting for you to go on.
“I don’t know,” was all you could think to say.
“Not exactly the confidence-booster I was looking for.”
“You have enough confidence,” you teased.
“It is one of my strong suits.” He grinned and downed a little more of his drink. “I guess it should be telling enough that you trekked all the way out here just to see me. You must like something about me.”
“I like plenty about you. It’s just hard to name.” You tilted your head as you watched him. He looked so pretty in the dim lighting of his lavish, yet warm home. Then again, he usually did.
“We’ve got plenty of time to rectify that,” he smirked, his voice dropping down to a sultry hum. “Unless you were planning on making this trip a short one. But…”
You followed his gaze to your bag, still slung over your shoulder.
“I sort of assumed you’d let me stay.” You paused and corrected yourself. “That you’d want me to stay.”
“Forever?” He seemed a little too excited about the prospect, if a little caught off-guard.
“No,” you laughed at his likeness to a puppy. “Just for a little. I still have responsibilities, you know.”
“Right, right. The whole heir to the throne thing.” Johnny seemed utterly bored by the position. “That’s a shame. I know some of the guest rooms could use some love.”
“I just wanted to visit. See where this goes,” you said carefully, unsure exactly what ‘this’ even meant. Johnny, however, didn’t seem to care. He hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you a little closer. The look in his eyes that usually came off as cockiness now seemed to give way to a genuine enthrallment with you. It gave you flutters in your stomach. You didn’t hate the feeling.
“I’m down for that,” he murmured. A large hand caressed your cheek. “Y’know, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, my master bedroom is the loneliest one of all. And its owner wouldn’t mind a companion.”
“Someone to bed-warm?” you chuckled. Johnny’s eyebrows shot straight up.
“I thought you didn’t want to–I mean, listen I would love that, but I was just talking about, y’know, uh…sharing a bed tonight.”
You frowned, searching his face for any sign of what the confusion was. “I was, too. You know what bed-warming is, right?”
“I know what a bed-warmer is!” Suddenly, realization came across his eyes in a wave. “Oh. Oh. Is this–this is some weird Edenian culture shock thing for me, isn’t it?”
“Maybe?” You shrugged as the thought crossed your mind. “For us, bed-warming is like…it’s hugging. Spending the night curled up to one another. Especially on cold nights. Y’know, because another body makes the bed warm.”
Johnny looked like he’d been slapped. “Yes! Yeah. Okay. That…that makes sense. Uh, that would be really nice. I’d like that.”
“What does bed-warming mean in Earthrealm?” you questioned as he turned to the bar again to clean up his glass.
“Uh…” Johnny’s cheeks went pink. For once, he didn’t seem to want to delve into what you assumed had to be some sort of innuendo. “Y’know what? Forget it. You look tired. You came a long way, I bet. Let’s just go up to bed. I’ll show you my room! It’s really cool in there, I’ve got this statue that…”
As he started up the stairs, rambling half-nervously and half-excitedly, you couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto your face. For the first time that night, you felt completely secure in your decision to escape from home for a bit.
#wedontdeservethefics#asks#anon#thank you anon!! sorry for the delay#i am officially in rehearsals for two shows at once now so im. very busy#not counting classes and assistant teaching and such#BUT!! i really like this concept......i will likely continue in the future teehee#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage#mk#mortal kombat#gn!reader#edenian!reader
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Johnny x fem! Clown reader
This is such a cute prompt idea! I've been doodling clowns a lot lately in class so this is strangely relevant to my life rn lol.
Content: fem!reader, really just a lot of fluff!
“I was thinking,” Johnny began.
“That’s never good.”
A roll of the eyes, a nudge of your shoulder. “C’mon. This one’s good.”
“Fine. I guess I can humor you for once…”
Johnny stuck his tongue out at you. He swirled his drink in his glass–a White Russian. “The execs are thinking of a soft reboot for Ninja Mime. And, well, y’know…I know you’re not big on film work, but I was thinkin’a bringing up the idea of a team-up sorta thing. Like, you know: me as Ninja Mime, and you as your cute little self. We could call it…” He raised his hands for dramatic effect, as if imagining a title all up in lights. “Fool Fighters.”
“Like ‘Foo Fighters’?” you giggled. “That might have some copyright issues.”
“Nahhh, I could pull some strings,” he smirked. “Okay, okay, imagine: it’s been years since the defeat of Dr. Commedia. Things have been quiet for Ninja Mime. He’s been relaxing in his penthouse in Paris, drinking wine and eating bread and kissin’ babes and whatever. And then, one day, he gets a cry for help from another fellow clown cutie–that’s you–and he falls head-over-heels in love with her. Dr. Commedia’s son, Art, is taking up his work, and is determined to spread his anti-laughing gas prototype all over the city, turning each and every citizen into a boring zombie of frowns! The clown girl found all this out because she’s Art’s sister and Commedia’s second child, but she wants to spread joy and laughter, so she takes her insider knowledge to Ninja Mime! And then it’s a Romeo and Juliet kind of thing between them, she wants to kiss, he wants to punch, neither of them can be together, and then at the end after Art is defeated, they finally share a gorgeous kiss in front of a sunset. Or, like, and explosion. Maybe both!”
“Oh, wow.” For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You were impressed with his depth of detail on the concept, but at the same time… “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.” Johnny smiled. “It’ll be badass! Plus, it could put you into the spotlight. Give your career a push into the mainstream.”
“I guess so.” You nodded and smiled, but your eyes betrayed how conflicted you felt.
“You’d be getting calls left and right!” Johnny chuckled, until he realized that you seemed torn. His smile fell into tight lips. “But…you don’t want that…?”
You sighed and leaned back on the couch. Dating Johnny was wonderful, but it was also a little strange for you. It was like a looking glass into what another realm of entertainment life was like. Actors got so much recognition and stardom (mostly rightfully so!), and other performers like dancers and singers were typically hailed similarly. But, as a clown, you were different. You were a performer, yes, and and actor too, but it was character work. Very specific character work. Between shows and occasional circus acts and private events, you were more disconnected from your work life than, say, Johnny was, who would get recognized just walking outside to get the mail. Hardly anyone recognized your clown character, and even less than that were you recognized beyond someone realizing they’d seen you in a commercial once from a side-gig you’d done.
You kind of liked it. Clowning wasn’t about fame for you. It was about audience reactions. It was meant to bring joy and laughter and humility and even sometimes sadness to humanity. Clowning was a mirror. It was about laughing at yourself, a strange funhouse reflection of day-to-day life, and you loved it. You loved seeing people smile at your antics and connecting with them through your persona. You didn’t need the fame as long as you had that.
And while Johnny’s idea sounded fun, that fame made you hesitate. You didn’t want to be recognized just from a Ninja Mime reboot. That felt too unreal to you. That wasn’t clowning. It was acting in clown makeup. It felt strangely sacrilege.
“I think…I’d feel better about it if it wasn’t her,” you said slowly, referring to your clown-self.
“Really?” Johnny seemed confused. “I mean…yeah. Yeah, we could make you a new character if you wanted.”
“Yes,” you nodded. Johnny was still looking at you strangely.
“You don’t have to be in it, if you don’t want. I just thought it’d be fun. I don’t know.” He gave a flippant wave of his hand. “It’s—y’know what, never mind. It’s kinda stupid.”
“Hey, c’mon.” You pulled his large hand into yours. “I didn’t say any of that.”
“It’s okay,” he said again. Clearly, it wasn’t, but he was trying to put up a front. “I’m not gonna make you be in a movie against your will. That’s, like, cruel and unusual punishment or whatever.”
“I do,” you assured him. “I would love nothing more. It’s just that clowning is…it’s far different from acting. Same ocean, different island. I don’t think I would translate well onto the big screen.”
“Right,” he nodded. “So—“
“So,” you interrupted gently, “we do what you said. Make me a new character. She can still be a clown. Just not my clown.”
“Okay…” Slowly, that creative spark was coming back into his eyes. “Maybe she can be good at ranged weapons? Since Ninja Mime is mostly killer with the melee stuff.”
“Yeah!” You grinned. “She can have, like, little bombs shaped like juggling balls.”
“Oh, yeah! And maybe, like, a little flower on her top that sprays acid!”
You giggled at the thought, nodding along. “Fun! I like it.”
“And I was thinking—for costumes—we could do a cool contrast thingy, since Ninja Mime is all black and white and red, maybe you could have a rainbow motif or something. Or—no—cotton candy colors! You look really good in pinks and blues.”
“Aw, thanks.” You kissed his cheek. “But I think you’d say that no matter what the design team comes up with.”
“What can I say? You’re a cutie when you’re all dolled up in those ruffles and makeup.” He pinched your nose playfully. “Oh, and that round little nose.”
You giggled and batted his hands away. “Y’know, you don’t look so bad as a mime yourself. Always thought it gave you a sophisticated touch.”
“Oh, well, if the Cagester’s anything, it’s sophisticated,” he beamed proudly, kicking his feet up on the ottoman in front of the couch.
“Uh-huh.” You decided to let him have that one. “Sooo…when exactly is Fool Fighters going into development?”
“See? Told you the name would grow on you!”
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redamancy with karl heisenberg please?
This turned out way cuter than I meant it to. Happy accident I guess?
CW for mentions of sexual themes
((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble!!))
KARL HEISENBERG x REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full
“I think I love you.”
It was the first time you had said it. It just slipped out, taking both you and Karl off guard. It wasn’t that you didn’t mean it. Far from it, actually. It had been months since your first time together, and even longer since your first heated kiss. You spent nearly all your time together nowadays, and not just because you were assisting him in the factory. It was unspoken between you, but it was also obvious that there was something beyond the quickies on the worktable or the nights spent in his quarters.
You expected Karl to say something snarky, make fun of you for the dumb comment. “I would hope you would, by now,” or a sarcastic, “No shit! Really, now?”
But he didn’t say anything.
In fact, he had completely frozen up. Sensing that you crossed a line, you felt your mouth go dry and tried to pedal back.
“Sorry. Was that too much?”
“No,” came his sharp reply, and he was turning to face you, leaving his work completely abandoned on the table. There was something in his cadence you hadn’t noticed before. Nerves? Could Karl even get nerves? “Not at all.”
“Okay, well…good.” A smile crossed your lips, but you were still a little put off by his demeanor. Karl looked like he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth. He coughed into a gloved fist. He turned around back to the forge.
You weren’t disappointed, per say, but it definitely wasn’t the response you wanted. But you tried to set your feelings aside, at least for the moment. He was busy. You shouldn’t have dropped that on him while he was so focused on his work, and besides, maybe it was too early, anyways. Maybe he just wanted to keep your relationship sexual. That was…fine. You could live with that, even if it made your throat choke up, at least he would still be with you, just not in the way that–
Karl’s lips were on yours. You didn’t know how you entirely missed him coming back over to you, but suddenly he was here, and the kiss was delightful, slightly salty from the heat of the forgery but not at all unpleasant, and most importantly it felt different. There was less intensity than you were used to, less recklessness and urgency. Like he was afraid of hurting you, but needed you to know that he was there.
When he pulled away, the tables had turned. Now you were speechless.
“Do you mean it?” he asked. You smiled in spite of his seriousness. He had removed his goggles on the way over, and you had to stop yourself from chuckling at the red rim marks they’d left encircling his eyes.
“Mean what?”
“Do you really love me?” The way he said love said it all. He wasn’t denying you earlier. He was just terrified.
“Of course,” you said decisively. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“You’re sure?”
You frowned, but didn’t falter. “Yes.”
Karl thought for a moment. Then, he took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. For whatever reason, your skin cells there were apparently very interesting at the moment. He kept his gaze focused on your hand as he spoke.
“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to tell you that?”
You shook your head. “You have?”
“Yes!” His face was red, and you didn’t think it was just because of the sauna-like conditions in the room. “I–I’m mad, actually, that it was that easy for you. I’ve been trying to craft the perfect way to tell you for weeks. I even went to Donna to ask for help on a poem. Didn’t work, of course, she was completely incompetent, and…”
He felt your gaze harshen, and immediately mumbled an apology. You had made him promise to try to get along with the other Lords, or at least act civilly with them, if not to avoid headaches at the meetings with Miranda. After a huff of breath, he recalibrated.
“I always thought I was smart. And you make me feel so, so stupid. Because I can’t figure you out, and I can’t figure us out, and I can’t believe that you just…said it. And it worked.”
“Was I supposed to make it more elaborate?” you teased softly, standing up from the stool you were seated in.
“No! I mean, I don’t think you were supposed to…” Karl’s mouth twitched. “Look, I really don’t know much about this ‘love’ stuff. I’ve never…I mean, I’ve always been alone. This is all really weird for me. But…it’s a good weird. And I’d like to keep going with you. I was just so afraid that if I didn’t say it right, if it wasn’t perfect, you wouldn’t love me the way I love you.”
“Oh,” you whispered, melting into a warm smile. “Karl…”
“I know, I’m rambling,” he muttered, still trying to look anywhere but into your eyes.
“I like it when you ramble,” you smiled back. “I love it, actually. And I love everything about you, the same way you love everything about me. Right?”
“Right.”
“So…there’s no confusion.”
“I suppose not.”
“Good.”
You both stood there for a moment, basking in the feeling of certainty, and then you shared another kiss. Karl still took the time to feel up your butt like he usually did, but somehow this time it seemed more intimate. Not just flat-out horny. It was a nice change of pace.
“Can we have a nice dinner tonight?” you murmured. “One where you don’t, like, bend me over the table when we’re done eating? Or before eating? Or…during eating?”
Karl laughed, and it was contagious. It hit you how much you really did love everything about him–every little scratch and scar on his skin, the way he talked, hell, even the sound of his breaths. It was all so him. And therefore, it was perfect. From the way that Karl was looking at you, you guessed he was having some pretty similar thoughts about you.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
#thank you for the ask lovely anon!#karl heisenberg#heisenberg#re8#resident evil 8#re8 heisenberg#lord heisenberg#heisenberg x reader#karl heisenberg x reader#drabble#resident evil#resident evil village#ask game#vocabulary event#wedontdeservethefics
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What about Johnny Cage x Ada Wong type of reader?
Oohh this is a cool concept!! I kind of took her mercenary work and general stoicism into account here, it turned into an enemies to lovers type deal (which. FAVORITE trope. God.)
Content: gn!reader, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, enemies to lovers
(Link to AO3 version here!)
How your phone number kept getting leaked, you had no idea. You changed it frequently enough that you rarely had constants in your life when it came to other people. Going into it, you knew that mercenary work didn’t allow for the most sociable life. But that was fine. You were a loner. You thrived on your own, and you liked it that way. It was much easier to watch your back when there weren’t loved ones standing behind you.
But here you were, staring at your fifth burner phone of the year, with a notification from a number that read as unknown but you had memorized by now. You didn’t even need a name to put to the text. It was too obvious: the all-lowercase, horrendous grammar, and overuse of the sunglasses emoji were enough of a calling card.
Johnny Cage.
Asking for a date.
Again.
You and Johnny had the unfortunate circumstance of meeting about a year or two ago when you were both unexpectedly wrapped up in saving Earthrealm. You saw him as a nuisance, someone who couldn’t take anything seriously even when lives were on the line. The more annoying part was that you were proven correct too many times over the course of those several days together. And yet, Johnny hung around you like a lost puppy, constantly trying to impress you with jokes or feats of strength or his fabulous wealth at home. None of it interested you. It only made him try harder.
Then, the aforementioned texts started to roll in when you two were physically apart. That plus the constant movie trailers and advertisements with his face plastered all over them made you sick to your stomach. As an overplayed TV commercial for an action figure based on his likeness cruelly reminded you at least once a day: “You can’t escape the Cage!”
And yet, though the easy option to block him remained in the back of your mind, you never did. You found it much more cathartic to answer with a sarcastic comment or an insult, even though you knew all it did was throw fuel on the fire.
[heyyy their dollface😘😎😎😎]
[What do you want this time, Cage.] After you sent the message, you sighed and set your phone down on the table. You stretched in your living room, taking in the muffled silence of the city, punctuated by voices through the walls of your apartment and engines on the streets below. Your phone’s buzz added to the mix. You groaned, as if you had expecting anything else but for him to answer right away.
[welllll im in town]
[ur town]
[like right now]
[drinks?😎]
Your brow furrowed. You tried to recall when you told him where you were staying, but it occurred to you that if Johnny could track your cell phones, he was probably paying some dick to give out information on your whereabouts, too.
[How stalkerish of you. Charming.]
[nahhh nah not stalkerish!!]
[just wanna see u again. too much to ask?]
[Pretty much, yeah.]
[cmon. pls? ill pay!]
You gave a strenuous sigh and looked around at the rest of your apartment. It was silent, mostly bare. You had never bothered to decorate. For once, and only for a moment, the usually comforting depersonalization of it all felt lonely. You weighed your options. At least if you went out, it would be something different. You hadn’t gotten a hit in weeks and the static nature of sitting at home and going out only for groceries was taking its toll. Already regretting it before you pressed a single key on the screen, you answered.
[Fine. Where?]
[noonans bar?]
[How do you even know about that place?]
[not my first time around the block, sweetie. filmed once or twice here before n found out pretty quick where the best drinks were]
[For once, you’re not wrong. I’ll be there at 8. If you’re even 10 minutes late I’m leaving.]
[u drive a hard bargain. luv it😘 ill see u soon!]
[You’re so annoying.]
[😎]
The local bar was, as usual, loud and full of too many people. It made you nervous to be around so many at once. The only saving graces were the fact that you were able to snag a booth in the corner, where no one could sneak up on you, and the drinks. Johnny was, unfortunately, right for once. They really were the best in the city.
You were already sipping on a Rum and Coke, something light that gave you enough buzz so that you weren’t completely miserable but kept you sober enough to stay alert. Not that you were expecting a fight or anything, but it was a habit you’d gotten too used to. Years in your profession had made you strong and confident in your abilities, but had also made you quite antisocial. It was already hard to trust strangers when you were younger and inexperienced. Now, it was nearly impossible.
And then, of course, was Johnny. You watched as he entered the bar, already grinning like an idiot and giving quick greetings to anyone he passed. He even scrawled a few autographs on some napkins to excited patrons as he made his way over to you. That was something else that you hated about Johnny. Just the act of being seen with him immediately called attention to yourself. Usually, that was something you couldn’t afford. But you had already agreed to this whole thing, and now he was sitting across from you in the booth, no doubt drawing stares and chatter from some of the people around you.
Johnny ignored them all in favor of you, though. He took off his sunglasses (because of course he still wore them at night) and flashed you a grin.
“Wow. Hi. You look great.”
“Johnny,” you mumbled in acknowledgement. You lifted your glass and took a long sip before continuing. “Started a tab already.”
“Right on,” he nodded, unbothered by your flippancy. His eyes flicked down to your glass. “Can I have a taste?”
“Do you even know what it is?” you asked, but you decided you could part with a sip and held it towards him.
“Nope.” Johnny grinned and tried some of it. When he pulled away, he seemed surprised. “What, are you a lightweight?”
You scoffed. “Hardly. I just don’t wanna get wasted and have to rely on you to drag me home.”
“Suuure.” You reached for the glass, but Johnny managed in one last sip before handing it over again. “Heh. It’s like we just kissed.”
“How old are you?” you grumbled. “Twelve?”
“Only in dog years.”
Before you could point out the inaccuracies of that analogy, Johnny was already talking again.
“Noticed you got all dressed up for me.”
You looked down at your jacket, hoodie, and jeans. Your sense of style wasn’t anything to gawk at. That was the point. When you met Johnny’s eyes again, you saw that his face was riddled with sarcasm.
“You should feel lucky I even agreed to all this.” You folded your arms. “I should just get up and go home now, in fact.”
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, doll,” he chuckled. “No hard feelings. I promise. I’m just givin’ you a hard time is all.”
“I’ll show you a hard time,” you muttered as he stood to order a drink.
“I heard that!” he laughed over his shoulder. You glared at him as he leaned against the counter, joking with the bartender about something or other. His laugh annoyed you. His hair annoyed you. His brash sense of style annoyed you. His ass annoyed you, too. Stop staring at his ass. You almost decided to get up and leave while he was distracted, but even if it was Johnny, you couldn’t bring yourself to be that mean. After all, you had agreed to this. Might as well see it through.
“So?” Johnny asked when he came back with a tall mug of a draft beer. He’d gotten you one, too. You weren’t much for beer, but hey: he was paying. “What’ve you been up to? Been a while since I’ve seen ya.”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Johnny laughed. It wasn’t a joke.
“Alright, alright. We can just talk about me if you want. Trust me–no issues with that.” He gave you a wink that made you sick to your stomach. Then, he started on a tangent about all the movie work he’d done over the past couple of years. You’d heard of most of the projects from ads, but you let him talk anyways, half-hoping he’d run out of steam eventually. You drank your beer, not relishing in the taste but certainly relishing in the way it made you a little less agitated. Soon, Johnny’s words weren’t even entirely annoying. Sometimes they were even interesting. Not enough to ask any questions about the ins and outs of a Hollywood stunt star, but you were no longer pouting into your glass.
Johnny kept talking. You kept drinking. And then, the inevitable happened. You were drunk. You could tell because the small part of you that was still aware of the world in a more sober-fashion knew he was still talking, but you couldn’t for the life of you actually focus on what he was saying. You’d pick up a sentence or two and then immediately forget about it. You were too distracted by the little details: the way he wet his pink lips after a sip of beer, the warm color of his eyes, his strangely pretty and probably–no, definitely manicured nails. Johnny was a looker. You weren’t one to deny it, but you weren’t happy about it either. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more you looped back around to being irritated with him. How come he had to make you feel this way? You, out of all people, who couldn’t afford to have close relationships? Who couldn’t even stand him in the first place, and yet hesitated to cut contact with him every time you got a text? Who thought about him late at night, alone in bed, and way more often than you wanted to admit?
It was all his fault, you decided. Of course it was. Johnny was messing you all up. You never felt like this, like a lovesick puppy. You frowned, your hazy focus settling on his mouth. You saw Johnny frown, too. It sounded like he was saying your name, and you were sure he was, but you didn’t really care. He snapped his fingers near your ear and it almost brought you back. You leaned in, raising one of your hands. You were gonna give it to him, you decided, show him what for in return for making you feel so stupid and weak and so utterly enamored. But your hand landed a lot more softly on his cheek than you initially meant it to, and instead of telling him off your lips were suddenly busy making love to his.
For once, Johnny didn’t seem to know how to respond. His usual suave self was broken. All he was able to do was sit there, frozen, eyes wide, as you finally did what you thought about doing many times before.
Once you were satisfied, you pulled away with a slow breath. Johnny was blushing. Actually blushing, and not the fake “aw, shucks” kind of blush you’d seen him pull before. This was real. You’d caught him off-guard. You’d destroyed him.
A small smirk found its way onto your lips and you distracted them by finishing off your drink. When you were done, you wiped your mouth on your sleeve and muttered, “You’re stupid.”
“What?” Johnny seemed to genuinely not have heard you, still completely lost in his own world.
“Never mind,” you sighed. “That was…ugh. Whatever. Sorry.”
“Sorry?” He looked even more surprised. “What, like you didn’t mean to kiss me?”
“No. But like–” You struggled for a moment. Now you were getting flustered. “I didn’t want to. I just–I don’t know. I don’t know. It just happened, okay?”
“It absolutely did just happen.” Johnny seemed to be falling back into his nature, now that you were, too. “D’you want it to just happen again?”
“No,” you muttered quickly. But you leaned in again, still staring at him. His hand landed on your neck. It was surprisingly warm. “Maybe.”
“That’s what I thought,” he grinned, and suddenly he was kissing you again. It felt good, but what was even worse was that it felt right. Fulfilling, almost. Like this is what had been missing in your life.
You wanted to beat yourself up just for even thinking that.
After the few sloppy kisses were over, you started packing your things. You knew that if you stayed around him any longer, you were gonna say something you regretted.
“Hey, hey, where’s the fire?” Johnny murmured, still very much in the slow romantic mood that you were desperately trying to pull yourself out of.
“I need to go,” you huffed, standing from the table. The room spun. Johnny took note of the way you wobbled and stood up beside you.
“Hey.” He steadied your shoulders and scanned your face. You furrowed your brow, trying to look intimidating. Based on his expression, it wasn’t working. “You’re drunk.”
“Nice work, genius.”
Johnny’s face slowly fell as he looked at you. A short sigh huffed from his nose. “...We wouldn’t work. Would we?”
You shrugged, both because you knew the answer and you wanted to pretend you didn’t. Johnny nodded. You had never seen him so serious before, nor so sad. It made you wanna throw up. Or maybe it was just the booze and dizziness.
“Let me at least get you home safe.” He started walking you towards the door. It was a slow process, and with his big arms wrapped around your shoulders, you were glad about that. Outside the bar, it was starting to rain, the tiny drops coming down in waves of mist. Johnny cursed under his breath and pulled your hood up for you. As he did so, you caught a glimpse of his face again, kind and doe-eyed and so goddamn sad. Your own lips tugged down in a frown. You looked away as you spoke again.
“We could try.”
“Huh?”
“We could try,” you repeated louder, trying not to stumble. You had the safety net of drink to blame all of this on if you felt differently in the morning. But somehow, you knew you wouldn’t. You could feel Johnny staring at you before the two of you started to walk down the street again.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
#if anyone got the reference to noonans bar...teehee#wedontdeservethefics#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#mortal kombat#mk#anon#asks#enemies to lovers#cw: alcohol
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Johnny Cage x Reader - Relationship
Characters: Johnny Cage, Reader
Additional Tags: Fluff, slight nsfw, nsfw mention, Not much tho, like you guys don't even get to first base, Sickfic, also kinda bc Johnny's not sick he's just stupid, Established Relationship, GenderNeutral!Reader, GN!READER, femme!reader, reader is referred to with feminine terms but never explicilty said to be any gender, One Shot, Drabble
Summary:
Johnny Cage can do it all! Until...he piles too much on his plate and he can't. SOMEONE'S gotta take care of his dumb ass and make him slow down for once.
#wedontdeservethefics#listen LISTEN#i said i was gonna write a jc fic while knowing nothing about his character/lore. and i did#have fun <33#maybe if i ever actually learn about him/play his goddamn games beyond mk11 i'll write somethin longer lol#but for now hes just my little Guy who i will put into Situations#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#mortal kombat#mortal kombat johnny cage#mk johnny cage#mk#drabble
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hii!!!! assuming ur still takin requests for that writing game, could u do cingulomania w/ ethan winters?
LOVED the heisenberg one btw I'm abt to reblog it and express my adoration for ur writing it is soo good <333
and so u don't have to go look through that whole big post, here's the definition for u :] "cingulomania: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms."
Hi there! First off I am SO sorry for how long this took for me to churn out, this ask got sent around the time I started tech week at my college for a show and then, of course, the show itself overtook my life. Oops lol....anyhow!! I decided to go a more hurt/comfort route with this so it got a little angsty, hope that's okay!! Still has a happy end (because God knows our poor guy Keithan Splinters deservers it..)
Also plot note: reader somewhat takes the place of Mia in the Resident Evil timeline (sorry babygirl), this drabble takes place post-RE8
CW for themes of identity crisis, self-hatred, and things like the such
((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble!!))
“Can you hold my hand? Please?”
Ethan’s tone surprised you. You yourself felt rather sunny. It was hard not to, what with the baby blue sky brushed with cottony clouds and a summer breeze that just tickled your skin enough to be pleasant on such a warm day. The scent of fresh sandwiches and fruit slices and homemade cheesecake (Ethan’s favorite) wafted by on the wind. What made the day even more perfect was that the two of you had somehow managed to secure this spot alone. Despite the field you settled your picnic in being near a public hiking trail, there wasn’t another soul in sight. Usually Ethan enjoyed this. People weren’t his thing, especially not as of late. He much preferred spending his time with just you and Rose, who was fast asleep in her baby basket beside the two of you, her little nose scrunching up when it caught pollen on the breeze.
The day itself was planned out as perfectly as you could hope. Along with lunch, you packed books and a deck of cards to play with later on and you wore a neat little outfit. Ethan was dressed similarly in a blue-dotted button-up and earthy slacks, but despite his trimmed appearance, you could tell how distressed he was. That, and the mere cadence of his request. He seemed so despondent. He had been, ever since returning from Europe to the states. You really couldn’t blame him, after what he’d endured just to get Rose back. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been through a lot, either, but Ethan had arguably suffered just as badly, if not more.
Especially since he learned of his genetic reform.
“Sure, bug,” you murmured, stretching your hand towards him.
Ethan, with glazed eyes that couldn’t quite reach yours, grazed his skin against your fingers. You pulled him fully into your grasp. He didn’t feel cold, but he definitely didn’t feel as warm as you expected him to. He just felt stagnant.
“You okay?” you poked, searching his face for any hint of what turmoil lied behind it.
“Mm.” Ethan replied curtly. You sighed. By now, you were used to his non-responses, but it didn’t change the fact that you were still saddened that he wouldn’t talk to you.
“That doesn’t sound very okay,” you murmured, trying to be gentle but also, and quite frankly, fed up with him closing you off like you hadn’t been married for literal years.
When Ethan remained silent, you felt your heart sink like stone and let go of his hand–that is, until he tightened his own grip. When you looked back at him, there was the unmistakable red glow of tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. Immediately, you felt bad for dismissing him before.
“Ethan?” you asked.
“I’m afraid.”
You brushed a stray tuft of blonde hair from his face. “Of what, darling?”
This time, in addition to a trembling breath, you got a full sentence. “What if I’m not me anymore?”
A frown tugged at your lips. “Of course you’re you. What are you talking about?”
“I’m not human anymore.” Ethan’s voice was quiet. It was tinged with palpable tension.
“You’re human enough,” you assured him. “Maybe not anatomically. But you can still move and talk and think, can’t you? And love.”
“And hurt.” It sounded like something was stuck in his throat. “I-I don’t know what I am anymore.”
“You’re Ethan,” you said decisively. “Nothing else matters. You still feel like yourself, right?”
“I don’t know.” Ethan looked up at you suddenly, his piercing eyes wide and wild. “I don’t remember how I’m supposed to feel. Do you know how many times I’ve been cut and stabbed and shot and-and ripped apart, only to be-to be fucking stitched back together like some freakish monster? I haven’t felt like anything but a monster for years!”
A silence had overcome you. Even the gentle sound of the breeze felt like an intruder. You wet your lips and averted your gaze. Ethan had let go of your hand again at was staring at his wrist. The first place he’d been destroyed.
“I’m…sorry,” you finally settled on. What else were you supposed to say?
“You weren’t supposed to know that,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because you can’t fix it. Fix me.” You watched his fingers flex back and forth. You could still make out the numerous scars and scratches forever etched deep into the fungal layers of his skin, even if they had grown fainter with time.
“You’re right.”
Ethan looked at you, startled at your agreement.
“I can’t,” you continued. “I don’t think anyone can fix you. I think that you have changed. But so have I. And so has Rose…all of us are different after the Baker house, and the village, and Evelyn, and…everything. Did I ever tell you about my nightmares?”
“Your…nightmares,” Ethan wracked. You laid your hand over his.
“I dream about the Bakers every night. Even after all this time, I still see them in my mind. That’s my scar.”
“You…” His mouth had gone dry. Feeling like you had guilted him a little harder than you meant to, you backtracked.
“My point is, we’re both different people. But what matters is that, in the most important ways, we’re still the same. I still love you, just like when we met. I hope you love me the same.”
“I do,” he said quickly. “More than anything.”
“So you’re still Ethan.” Your hands gravitated towards his strong jaw, and you smiled. For the first time in a long time, you saw a lightness enter his eyes.
“Maybe…” It wasn’t a full confirmation. But it was something.
“Besides,” you teased lightly, “I like all of your scars. Makes you look like an action hero.”
“Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be one of those stunt guys.”
“There he is,” you giggled. “There’s that sarcastic guy I fell in love with.”
Ethan huffed, but the deep creases of his face had softened, and you aided their slack with a kiss to a pink cut across the bridge of his nose.
“But seriously,” you murmured as you laid your lips along the other marks on his face, “I will kiss every single scar and scrape on your beautiful body if I have to.”
“And what would that prove, hm?”
“That I’ll never stop loving you. No matter what you look like, or what you are, or whatever’s going on with you. You are so, so perfect, Ethan Winters. And I love you more than anything on this godforsaken earth, even if it doesn’t seem to love you back.”
Ethan chuckled softly and squeezed your hands.
“Thank you, honey.” He planted a kiss just on your forehead, and you smiled. “I love you, too.”
#poor poor ethan#boy deserves some kissies#i would very happily kiss his scars btw i love ethan#wedontdeservethefics#ethan winters#ethan winters x reader#resident evil#resident evil village#resident evil 8#re8#re7#resident evil 7#resident evil biohazard#re village#re biohazard#re ethan#re ethan winters#vocabulary event
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Portal (Video Game)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Wheatley (Portal)/Reader
Characters: Wheatley (Portal), GN!Reader - Character, Gender-Neutral Reader - Character, Reader
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Android!Wheatley, Kind of Human!Wheatley, Aka Wheatley has a body, First Kiss
Summary:
Portal 2 content? In 2023? It's more likely than you think. Just a little short, self-indulgent piece about Wheatley comforting the reader when they're sad.
#wedontdeservethefics#i was possessed and wrote this#i just played portal 2 for this first time#yknow only 11 years after it came out#anyways#i can see why our boy wheat was a tumblr sexy man#i love him. sm#so uhhhh enjoy this short little thing!#wheatley#wheatley portal 2#portal#portal 2#drabble#wheatley x reader#human!wheately#android!wheatley#portal 2 drabble#portal drabble#yippee!!#ao3
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would love to see 'AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship.' + jill <3
Jill...my baby...my baby girl...................loml......
CW for slightly suggestive content at the end? Not much tho
((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble for them!!)
JILL VALENTINE x AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship
In the kind of life that you and Jill lived, you learned to enjoy the quieter moments. Any nice night alone could be your last, since tomorrow you might end up in the belly of some horrifying mutant or something.
Even so, Jill seemed to enjoy the mundaneness more than you did. You found it hard to be unoccupied, usually having your laptop or files or even just a book open. You didn’t feel at peace otherwise. You were just a little bit of a workaholic, even if you wouldn’t admit it. Jill used to be that way, too, especially back when she was a S.T.A.R.S. member, but recently she had found joy in just existing beside you. For example, right now she was behind you, allowing you to sit against her as you scanned the pages of a mystery novel. It tricked your brain into thinking you were still working–even if the problems were fiction, you were still solving something. You thought that Jill was reading along, too, but in reality she really just liked the smell of your shampoo.
It was becoming clear that she was on a different page when you felt her slender hands slither up your stomach beneath your shirt. You pulled your attention from the pages and smiled a little, snuggling further against her chest.
“Hmmm?” you hummed, as if to ask what was on her mind.
“Nothing,” she murmured back.
“Thought you were asleep for a second.”
“No. Just resting.”
You leaned back and kissed her firm arm, lingering for a little longer than you meant to. Jill smirked, causing the corner of her eyes to crinkle up. You felt her squeeze your hips.
“You like my big, strong muscles?” she teased.
“God, yes,” you laughed, dog-earing the page you were on and setting the book down on your lap. “I have something to tell you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yep.” You turned to face her, deciding to take a moment to admire her. She was so unbelievably gorgeous, and you felt equally lucky to be with her. Her sharp nose drew you into the rest of her face, with her pouty-smile and eyes that felt like drinking an ice-cold glass of water whenever she looked at you. The very beginnings of wrinkles lined just beneath her eyes and the outside of her smile, no doubt the work of years and years of stress from the job, but you didn’t mind it. In fact, you thought it suited her quite well.
“Well?” she laughed softly. “What’s this oh-so-important thing you have to say?”
You took a breath, putting on a serious mask to hype up how astronomical the statement would be. “You…are perfect.”
Jill cocked an eyebrow. You continued to stare at her, to which she let out a laugh. “What? That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“Well, thank you,” she beamed, framing her face with her hands. “I try very, very hard to achieve this kind of perfection.”
“You succeed,” you mumbled, pressing your lips to her throat. Jill’s energy melted along with the rest of her tension, and she hummed happily.
“Oh, that’s good,” she whispered as you continued to drag your mouth over her skin. “You’re good.”
“Thanks,” you smiled, “But I think you’re better.”
“Yeah, right. I mean, I know I’m perfect and all, but…” She took your chin in her hand and made you look up at her. “I don’t know. It’s pretty hard to match your level of affection.”
“No it’s not. Just ‘cause we love in different ways doesn’t mean it’s not equal,” you soothed. “Like, maybe I’m really good with being affectionate, but you do stuff for me all the time. And you always make sure I’m safe and happy. Plus...you’re really cute.”
“Well, that’s not fair.” She squished your cheeks with her hands. “You’re also really cute.”
You stuck out your tongue and squirmed out of her grasp. “Okay, okay. Truce. We’re both really cute, and we’re both really good at loving. How ‘bout that?”
“Not the worst tie I’ve ever been in,” Jill smirked.
“Is it really a tie if we’re both winning?” you countered, climbing onto her lap.
“Hmph.” Your lover smirked, grabbing a hold of your waist and pulling you closer. “Maybe you’re right.”
The book tumbled off the bed and onto the floor, completely forgotten.
#thank you for the request!! i had a lot of fun writing this one#jill valentine#resident evil#resident evil 1#resident evil 3#resident evil 5#re1#re3#re5#re jill#re remake#drabble#jill valentine x reader#wedontdeservethefics#vocabulary event#anon
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WEDONTDESERVETHEFICS MASTERLIST
UNCHARTED
Rafe Adler x Reader
A Dream's End
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Trouble in Paradise
Nathan Drake x Reader
Bad Timing
It Can't Be Love if You Throw It About
Charlie Cutter x Reader
Dating Charlie Headcanons
Elena Fisher x Chloe Frazer
Lovesick...Literally
ChloElena Headcanons
Nathan Drake x Harry Flynn
Elevator to Heaven
Rafe Adler x Harry Flynn
Time to Kill
Rafe Adler x Sam Drake
Cigarette Smoke
Misc. Fics
Stardew Valley x Uncharted Pairings
Headcanons about Nate's Dad (& Sully)
RESIDENT EVIL
Karl Heisenberg x Reader
Dischordant
Redamancy
Jill Valentine x Reader
Amity
Ethan Winters x Reader
Cingulomania
CRIMINAL MINDS
Spencer Reid x Reader
The Suadade Gambit: Chapter 1
The Suadade Gambit: Chapter 2
The Suadade Gambit: Chapter 3
Spencer Reid x Penelope Garcia x Derek Morgan
Enough
PORTAL
Wheatley x Reader
A Synthetic Shoulder to Cry On
MORTAL KOMBAT
Johnny Cage x Reader
Even the Stars Need Sleep
Obsessed
Family
Ninja Mime 5: Fool Fighters
Push & Pull
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Hey! Saw you ask for drabble requests! How about Garcia and Reid comforting Morgan after a difficult case, because he deserves hugs too! (Or them all comforting each other, I just really wish this fandom would let Morgan be comforted more)
Dude you have no idea how happy I am to write Derek being vulnerable, let this guy have a healing crying session sometime for the love of God. Dude goes through so much and he's never allowed to be sad :,( so....I'm here to fix that! Also, this is posted on AO3 as well!
Penelope knew something was wrong the second she heard Derek’s voice over the phone. She greeted him as she normally would–with a sensual-sounding “Hello, loverboy,” and a twirl of a golden lock of hair, even though he couldn’t see it. But Derek didn’t call her ‘hot stuff’ or ‘mama’ or even ‘baby girl.’
“Garcia,” was all he said (and not even in a fun way!) before continuing onto his question for the current case at hand. “What can you tell me about a Paul Norwell who lives in the area?”
“Oh,” she replied, a little perturbed by his distant nature. Nonetheless, her fingers started to fly over her keyboard. “Well, he currently works as a mover for GreenTech appliances. Basically, it looks like he does house-calls for appliance installments and issues that come up. He started work there about fifteen years ago. And…oh my. He lives only three blocks away from Jason’s family.”
“Did they have appliance troubles recently?” he guessed.
Garcia checked the bank account records of the parents of Jason, a kidnapped boy the team was trying to find. “Nope. But they did just get a new dishwasher installed a couple of weeks ago.”
Derek’s voice sounded stiff. “Give me his address.”
Penelope did, and he thanked her and hung up, just like that. Not an ounce of playfulness or even communion with her. If she didn’t know any better, she would feel a little mad that Morgan was treating her like a normal coworker. But she had known Derek for several years, and if he was acting like this, something was definitely wrong.
When he returned from the case, he didn’t seem to be feeling any better. Jason was safe, and they had Norwell locked up and on trial. The case was out of their hands, and a family was reunited. But something was still very obviously bothering Derek. He was quiet, aloof. He declined to go out for drinks with Penelope and Emily. Whenever Garcia looked into his umber eyes, she could see the storm he was hiding behind a dismissive, “I’m fine.”
Spencer had noticed it, too. He and Penelope sat at his desk, watching Derek from across the bullpen as he worked tirelessly to complete stacks and stacks of paperwork that he’d no doubt insisted on taking from Hotch. Penelope swung her legs as she sat on Spencer’s desk, and he anxiously swiveled in his chair.
“Why won’t he just talk to us?” she asked, her gaze furrowing beneath her cotton candy-colored frames.
“He’s emotionally closing himself off. He probably doesn’t want us worrying about whatever’s going on in his mind,” Spencer mumbled. “But it’s kind of having the opposite effect, isn’t it?”
“Tell me about it. I wish I could just…open his head up and look at his brain and pick out all the bad stuff,” she frowned. “And no one’s called me baby girl in, like, a week. I’m gonna die of starvation soon.”
“Does ‘pretty boy’-starvation fall under the same umbrella? Because I’m feeling it, too,” he sighed. “Getting coffee on my own isn’t the same. I got too used to Derek being with me and now it’s just lonely.”
“Aw, Reid,” Penelope pouted. “I’d go with you. Except you know what caffeine does to me…”
“I have first-hand experience, unfortunately,” he smiled faintly, then looked back at Morgan’s office. He wasn’t even working anymore, now, just staring ahead at the wall, propping his head up with a curled fist. Penelope squirmed.
“Okay. That’s it. I gotta go in there.”
“I’m coming, too,” Spencer said quickly, standing and tailing behind Garcia as she made a beeline for the office. She hesitated only for a moment before knocking on the closed door and propping it open, peeking in through the crack to alert him of her presence. Derek broke his staring match with the wall opposite to him and nodded, as if to say “come in.”
“Hi,” Penelope say sweetly, her voice small and soft. Spencer waved a little when he came in behind her. Morgan shifted in his seat.
“What, am I in trouble or somethin’?” he asked, clearly meaning it as a joke. His delivery was tired, though.
“Only because you’ve been ignoring us,” she smiled sadly, knowing that his distant nature wasn’t born of malice.
“By ignoring, do you mean doing my job?” He cocked an eyebrow as he gestured to the mess of files and paperwork on his desk.
“Not just today,” Spencer shrugged, glancing down at the papers. “Four days in a row. Ever since we got back from the case, actually. And most of these documents don’t need to be turned in for another two weeks.”
Derek sighed and leaned back in his chair. “So I like to get things done early. So what?”
“Not this early.”
“Look, what do you two want?”
“We’re worried, Der,” Penelope murmured, taking a step closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird.”
“We miss you out there,” Spencer added. “Are you okay?”
Derek shook his head. “I’m–”
“Fine,” she cut him off, fingers fidgeting with a gaudy jeweled ring she wore. “Please, don’t say you’re fine. You obviously aren’t. And that’s okay.”
For a moment, he was quiet, looking between the two. Reasoning something in his head.
“Please talk to us?” Spencer muttered.
Morgan rubbed his face. “You got me with those doe eyes, pretty boy. Close the door.”
He smiled shyly and did so, making sure that it shut all the way. When he turned back, Derek was pushing away from his desk. He came around the front and leaned back against it, folding his arms. Where to even start?
“I can’t stop thinking about that case,” he finally said, eerily still. “That kid. Jason.”
“He made it back home safe, didn’t he?” Penelope asked.
“He still got taken,” he shook his head. “And who knows what exactly Norwell did to him? Or the kids before. We don’t even know how many there were. How many lives were ruined by this bastard? How many children died after being put through what Norwell did to them?”
The other two were a little taken aback by Derek’s sudden frankness. Neither said a word, but Penelope slipped her hand over his. He swallowed thickly and folded his arms, trying to guard himself.
“That kid on the morgue table. I know we’ve seen kids before, but…he reminded me of myself. That could’ve been me. That is so many kids that we were too late to save. That we don’t even know about.” A shaky breath, like his lungs were about to give. “I joined this team because I never wanted any child to feel so powerless again. To stop this from happening. But we can’t.”
“That’s not true,” Spencer said softly. “We do all we can. And think about how many kids in the future we saved from people like Norwell. How many families won’t ever have to go through that, because we helped. You helped.”
“You guys aren’t superheroes,” Penelope pointed out. “You’re only human.”
“So are they.” Derek looked up at her. His eyes were glossy. “Grown men that I should be able to stop because that’s what I am, too.”
“It’s not that simple, hun,” she said apologetically. “It’s not just about power. There’s a bunch of different factors. They hide behind masks and personalities and–and in secret places. They make it hard to find them. But whenever we get a case, we always uncover them. We do everything we can.”
“It’s not enough. It’s never enough.” He angrily wiped at his cheek, trying to stop the tears before they came.
Penelope looked at Spencer, a little shaken. She was so used to Derek’s rhetoric being more positive. Usually, he would stand by the fact that even though there seemed to be an unsurmountable and ever-growing evil in the world, units like Quantico and the people that it was made up of would always be there to put a halt to it. Seeing him break like this was a rarity, and she didn’t like it.
Spencer’s fingers tapped against his thigh. He was clearly unnerved by the sudden change of heart, too, but he moved forward and wrapped his lanky arms around Derek, closing his eyes as he did so. For once, the boy wonder had no words. He knew there wasn’t anything he could say to comfort Morgan. No reality, no mantra, no lie that he couldn’t shelve or disprove. Because in a way, Derek was right. They couldn’t be there to fix everything that was wrong in the world. It just wasn’t possible.
Penelope covered him from the other side, enveloping the rest of Derek into a comfortable embrace. She pressed a slow kiss to his shoulder, shutting her eyes tight as she tried to keep her own tears from spilling. He slowly took the two into his arms, letting his head duck into the nook created by their bodies pressed against him. His shoulders began to shake as silent sobs left his chest. Penelope hushed him in a whispery breeze of voice, and Spencer gently rocked him back and forth.
Derek cried.
Even after his tears let up, the three of them lingered in their circle for a few minutes, their backs creating a shield from anything the harsh world outside the office had to offer. For the first time in a long time, Derek Morgan felt completely safe.
“Sorry.” The mumbled apology was accompanied by a lift of his head and small sniffle. Penelope broke the hug to hand him a tissue from the desk behind him, which he took and used gratefully.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she soothed. “I wish we knew you were feeling like this.”
“It gets hard to stay optimistic in this line of work,” said Spencer. “But just because you’re struggling doesn’t mean you have to stay silent. We all struggle. It’s natural.”
“I’m not supposed to struggle,” he laughed bitterly. “I’m the tough guy. The-the one who kicks down doors and chases the bad guy and…”
“And walks away from explosions without looking back?” Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Come on, baby, you’re not a one-dimensional action hero. You’re allowed to be sad.”
“No one here expects you to put up a front all the time. Especially not us.” Spencer squeezed his arm.
Derek let out a long breath. “Thanks, guys. Sorry I’ve been all distant and mopey lately.”
“It’s okay. We were only kidding about you ignoring us,” Garcia smiled. Spencer turned his head and frowned.
“What? I wasn’t. I hate getting coffee by myself.”
This earned a chuckle from Derek, and he felt proud of himself for making him laugh. “Sorry, Reid. Is it too late to go now? We can take a lunch and go on a make-up date, if you want.”
“Four’s my limit. Lucky for you, I’ve only had two so far today,” he grinned. “Y’know, it’s funny, just a few months ago my limit probably would’ve been two or three, but I think I’ve built up such an immunity so quickly that my body doesn’t even register the caffeine like it used to anymore. If I keep this up I can probably down five in a day in a couple of weeks and I’d be fine.”
“God help us all if you get to that point.” Derek clapped him on the shoulder. “You comin’, baby girl?”
Penelope pursed her lips and smoothed out her purple-patterned skirt. “Does the cafe have hot chocolate? Or something non-caffeinated that won’t make Penny G. sicker than she was after her twenty-first birthday party?”
“They absolutely do.” For a moment, his hand lingered at the small of her back. Before he gathered his keys and wallet, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and then Spencer’s, leaving her glowing and him flushed pink.
“Thank you guys,” he said, his voice hushed. “Really.”
“We love you,” Spencer said matter-of-factly, smiling.
“Just do us a favor and tell us when you feel down next time, so we don’t have to pull it out of you like wisdom teeth.” Penelope stood on her toes and returned the kiss he’d given her, before her velvet heels clunked back down on the carpet and she started for the door. “Okay, c’mon! Mama’s craving hot chocolate now.”
“And I’m craving coffee,” Spencer added.
“Bad Reid. You’re gonna get the jitters!”
“I don’t get jittery anymore!”
“That’s because you’re always jittery.”
Derek smiled as he watched his two favorite people in the whole world bicker in front of him. His gaze turned towards the piles of paperwork on his desk. Hesitation. Then, he turned off the lights to his office and followed behind his partners.
#wedontdeservethefics#derek morgan x spencer reid x penelope garcia#derek morgan x penelope garcia#derek morgan x spencer reid#penelope garcia x spencer reid#derek morgan#spencer reid#penelope garcia#criminal minds#siensapsap#god i love this prompt#and i love the Trio i wish this ship was more popular
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WRITING GAME IDEA BC I MISS THE RE BOYS N GALS!!
I just reblogged a list of cool vocab words, send me one of them and a character and I’ll write a short drabble based on the word and it’s defenition
#wedontdeservethefics#resident evil#re#resident evil 1#resident evil 2#resident evil 3#resident evil 4#resident evil 5#resident evil 6#resident evil 7#resident evil 8#leon s kennedy#chris redfield#ada wong#claire redfield#karl heisenberg#carlos oliveira#ethan winters#piers nivans#jake muller#jill valentine#alcina dimitrescu#helena harper#uhhhhh ill do other ones thats just the full list i can think of rn lol#just ask and i’ll probably do it#i love these bitches#writing game#requests open
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Karl Heisenberg/Reader, Karl Heisenberg/You
Characters: Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Reader, Gender-Neutral Reader - Character, GN!Reader - Character
Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, karl is a little music man wow who knew, mentions about karl's past, karl gets a little bit sad but it's okay
Summary:
Practicing guitar SUCKS. It hurts and the notes never sound right. At least you're alone in your room and definitely not embarrassing yourself in front of your factory-mate and crush(?)...right?
#wedontdeservethefics#dumb little fic about heisenberg bc i am obsessed with him and also my fingers hurt from guitar practice lmaooooo#also this is good practice for writing him bc i cannot for the life of me write karl in a satisfying way?? like most characters i write ->#i can imagine their voice and them saying that but like. not karl. idk why ugh#ANYWhO#resident evil 8#resident evil village#re8#re village#re heisenberg#karl heisenberg#heisenberg x reader#karl heisenberg x reader#final note i am SO sorry about the pun in the title its all i could think of
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Charlie Cutter x Reader Headcanons
A friend of mine in an Uncharted server requested some hc’s for dating Charlie and I couldn’t resist, he does NOT get enough love in the fandom! Some of these are more general hc’s about Charlie and his life, but some have to do with relationship stuff as well. Enjoy!
• Charlie REALLY likes reading, especially history and fantasy (like Tolkien). He also as a soft spot for alternative history (i.e. what if america lost the revolutionary war kind of stuff)
• Cannot/will not drink coffee bc it hurts his tummy and makes him anxious but he LOVES tea and treats it like its made of gold, literally could be sick and dying and one sip of tea would fix him
• Used to have a drinking problem when he was younger, so he doesn’t drink anymore but he prefers quieter nights in anyways, relaxing with you and a bowl of popcorn and a shitty soap opera (shh don’t tell anyone)
• Has to use a cane after breaking his leg at the citadel, and got himself a really pretty one made of dark polished wood and an engraving of a starling on its head
• Speaking of which, he really likes birds! Had a bunch of bird feeders at home and a little book that has identification info by his kitchen window
• 100% early bird. He WILL be waking you up with kisses at like 6am every morning, even if you won’t actually leave bed for another few hours
• Cold showers are another thing of his. Red flag? Maybe. But he’s so sweet otherwise that you’re willing to overlook it. Sure makes showering with him an experience though
• His favorite meal of the day is breakfast and one of his favorite things to do for you is make you breakfast in bed. To him, it’s just about the most romantic thing in the world
• Really bad at singing and knows it, but he likes to do it anyway when no one’s around. Sometimes he forgets himself and sings while he’s in the shower, and then gets embarrassed when you applaud him from the other room
• After the events of UC3 and his injury, he becomes a college professor of British literature and runs a few history courses on the side when he can. He really loves teaching and while he comes off as a hard professor at first (he’s a tough grader and won’t accept laziness or minimal effort), the students who do stick with him always end up absolutely loving him by their second course with him. He’s very nurturing to the students who clearly share his passions and want to be in his classes, and goes above and beyond to help them if they struggle
• Definitely gets to a point where he’s one of those professors that, at the end of the semester after finals, he invites his classes (if they’re small enough) or favorite students over for a big dinner. Expect to adopt a bunch of 20-something year olds every month.
• Has pretty bad insomnia due to anxiety, bad memories, chronic pain in his leg, etc., so you may need to help him relax and sleep, but he says many times that simply seeing you so relaxed and peaceful in bed beside him automatically makes sleeping 200% easier for him
#wedontdeservethefics#uncharted 3#uncharted#uncharted drakes deception#uc#uc3#charlie cutter#charlie cutter x reader#uncharted charlie
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Link
Chapters: 3/6
Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Characters: Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Reader
Additional Tags: Gender-neutral Reader, GN!READER, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drinking, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Spencer doesn't know how to handle emotions but neither do you so
Summary:
You cannot stop thinking about Spencer Reid. He's everywhere you look. He's perfect from head to toe. And, when you decided to shoot your shot, he became the source of all your pain. Did you just ruin your relationship with your best friend (and crush)? ...Oops.
#wedontdeservethefics#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#derek morgan#criminal minds fic#aaaaand time for shit to hit the fan#also.....no i didnt watch the episode and transcribe some of it into this fic.......... its fine.....
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