#i will turn him into mince meat
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malk-with-tea · 7 months ago
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Some thumbnails I made for NudgeAndProd >:)
And shitpost bonus
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rainbowgod666 · 11 months ago
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🅱️ear
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I love everything about this.
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luveline · 8 months ago
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I would dieeee for some more of Spencer and bombshell after her getting injured😭 him taking such good care of her, the BEST doctors, researching every single option😭 reassuring her rhats shes just as pretty😭
—Spencer looks after you while you recover from a brutal injury. fem!reader, 1.1k
Spencer thinks it’s one of the team's more gruesome injuries. Hotch has been stabbed to mince meat and Emily half-killed, Elle got shot, and he’s had his fair share of violence, too, but he can’t imagine the horror of being hit in the face with a hammer. The pain so close to your eyes, your teeth, your brain, the fear and the sudden crack. He feels sick whenever he remembers the sound, and he was sick the first time he dreamt about the way you cried as it happened. Your strange yelp, the immediate drop to the floor. 
Spencer never hit somebody as hard as he did that UnSub. His gun whipped out possessed across the UnSub’s face, and then drove forward into their nose with a stomach turning crunch. 
They’re in custody, and you’re in bed recovering with some of the best doctors in the world. Spencer thinks you both won this round, even if it doesn’t feel like a win right now. 
“Shh,” he whispers, “shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, don’t cry.” 
You cling to his chest as though worried he’s going to move out of reach, sobbing. You’re careful not to touch your face or his chest, the soreness too much, but the rest of you is clinging to him. You don’t have to worry, he’s not going anywhere. 
“Please, it’s okay,” he says, the tip of his nose to your forehead. “You can have another dose in twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.” 
He supposes the pain reminds you of the full extent of the injury, your jaw fractured in two places, your gum traumatised, your face more bruise than anything else. You hate your appearance being out of your control, it’s making you panic —he can feel you shaking.
He’d sat down with your drink to find you already crying, he couldn’t have been gone for ten minutes, but it was long enough for you to fall deep into the throes of hysteria. You’d grappled for him as he sat down to hug you, your face hidden ever since, and now the shakes have started. He’s hopeless. 
But Spencer’s willing to do anything to make it better. “Can you tell me what’s upsetting you? Please?” he asks.
“It’s–” Harder sobbing, your tears dripping down from your chin to wet the thigh of his pants.
He has to calm you down.
Since you met Spencer, you’ve been the comforter. He can’t count how many times something has hurt him and you’ve rushed to save him. You’ve hugged and held and kissed him into smiling, you’ve never let him down, you’ve forgiven him after a hundred stupid mistakes, so Spencer doesn’t care that you’ve been inconsolable for days. He really doesn’t mind that he’s had to look after you this attentively. It’s his pleasure, and he’s getting better at it. 
He presses a few soft shushes somewhere in your hairline, his hand rubbing a circuit into your back with a firm pressure that never tips into roughness. He does it until his palm is numb. He could paint the slant of your back from muscle memory, fingers tripping down the creased fabric of your pyjamas, pulling back up to your neck. He’s never felt such tender sympathy. He hates that you’re in pain, but he doesn’t hate getting to rub your back. This is surely boyfriend territory. 
“You want something to drink now?” he asks quietly. 
You open your mouth to answer, sighing in pain momentarily. “Uh, yeah.” 
“Did you want the straw?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay.” He can’t force himself away. “You okay for me to move you?” 
“Yeah.” 
You can’t be blamed for short answers. 
There are surgeries to hold your jaw together when it breaks, and while you were unconscious (shock, rather than head injury), Hotch consented as your next of kin for the doctors to make sure things wouldn’t get worse, but it was Spencer who had to advocate for you afterwards. They’d wanted a metal connector to prevent dislocation. Spencer knew this could mean another scar, so he said no, because you might’ve said no had you been awake, and they should’ve asked you anyways. 
When you did wake up, you were vehemently against it. Which is fine, you can heal without it, but it’s scarier to do it unaided. Your jaw could dislocate if you do something wrong, which is not only horrifically painful, but a painfully horrific injury to have. You talk quietly. You take small mouthfuls of soft foods. 
Spencer looks at you now, tearstained, back arched like a kicked dog, and doesn’t know what to do. He wishes he were the one who got injured instead. 
He takes the hospital bed controls into his hand and presses the button to make the top of your mattress elevate. Tomorrow, they’ll send you home, and Spencer will have to construct a nest of pillows for you to sit in while you recover, but it’ll be worth it. Things won’t feel as intimidating when you’re in your own bed. 
“Lean back, beautiful,” he says. 
Your smile is a straight line with eyes lit up. “What for?” you ask. 
“Comfier. Less stress on your head.” You lean back. “Oh,” he adds, “and so I can get a better view of you.” 
Your eyes get impossibly brighter. “What do you think?” you murmur. Your voice sounds scratched to death from crying, tight from holding your mouth a certain way, but pleased anyways. It’s just as pretty as it always is to him. 
“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, reaching out to cradle your waist, his hand moving up and down the side of you tenderly. 
You have a bruise from under your left eye and bleeding down your neck, and you haven’t slept right for a few days, but you’re undeniably beautiful in Spencer’s eyes. 
You’ve been the most beautiful girl in the world literally from the day you met onward, with as much to do with your heart as your lovely face. He should tell you that, but he doesn’t. 
“Can I have water now?” you ask, covering his hand with yours. 
His confidence wobbles. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Sorry.” He grabs your drink, water spilling down the side to wet his hand. 
“Please don’t make me laugh.” 
“I’m not trying to,” he says pathetically. 
He holds the cup of water to your face and you guide the straw between your lips. Spencer’s sure he’s been in love with you forever, and it’s all but cemented now. 
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lowkeyren · 3 months ago
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—my muse, my cure.
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in which : both you and jiaoqiu are deeply concerned about each other's health but have an unconventional way of showing it.
pairing : jiaoqiu x gn!reader
wc 850, established relationship, 2.5 spoilers woops (but this isn't angst trust), also ib by an iconic line in 2.5 iykwim, art by @/Lianzi_ on x, reblogs r much appreciated!!!
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how do we get a picky eater to eat green peppers?
being a picky eater isn't easy, especially when you have a sly fox like jiaoqiu in your kitchen.
you think you're safe when you see a simple, mouthwatering dish; but with him, there's always a catch. beneath the savoury aroma of perfectly cooked meatballs or the comforting warmth of a soup, he hides the things you avoid —finely diced peppers, a hint of spice, or icky vegetables you swore you’d never touch.
jiaoqiu doesn’t say a word, but the way his ears twitch gives him away. he watches with a subtle, knowing grin as you take a bite, waiting for you to realize what he’s done. though by the time you do notice, it’s already too late. despite your best efforts, the subtle icky flavour of green peppers have already permeated your taste buds.
“you didn’t even notice, did you?” he teases, his voice laced with mischief.
you shoot him a glare as you reluctantly finish the dish, the flavours blending together so seamlessly that you almost forget what you were trying to avoid in the first place. (seems like his culinary skills managed to win you over once again)
“that’s not very polite of you, doctor.” 
jiaoqiu’s smile widens at your response. “ah, come on now,” he says, feigning a hurt expression. “it's all in good fun. besides, you know those peppers are packed with vitamins. it’s good for you.”
you let out an exaggerated sigh, your irritation still simmering. “well, just because your dish turned out good, don’t think i’m letting you off the hook that easily,” you say, rolling your eyes, though a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.
jiaoqiu only chuckles at your response, clearly amused. “i see how it is,” his tone taking on a teasing lilt as he steps a little closer, “you best stay on your guard then, dearest.” 
“how do we get a picky eater to eat green peppers?��� the answer is quite simple. chop the peppers and mix them with minced meat to make meatballs, allowing the meat’s flavor to mask the peppers so even your fussy spouse can enjoy them.
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how do we get a stubborn doctor to drink his medicine?
being a doctor isn't easy, especially when you’re injured and your partner is more worried about your own health than you are.
“qiu’er, i’m back!” the sound of your voice instantly draws his attention, he turns his head in your direction, the subtle rustle of sheets accompanying his movement. the bed dips slightly under your weight as you settle beside him, the warmth of your presence soothing. “here, i brought you some tea,” you murmur. 
“careful, it’s hot.” you gently lift the cup to his lips, the steam rising and carrying with it the sweet, spiced scent of cinnamon —he immediately notices the strong overpowering smell right away.
ah… cinnamon? so you took his advice from years ago, but unfortunately a fox’s senses are sharper than most. 
his nose scrunches slightly as the liquid gently brushes against his lips. “spiked my tea with something, dearest?” you pause, setting the cup down with a soft clink. though just as you’re about to retort, his hand reaches out, searching for you with a gentle touch. his fingers graze your arm, then find your hand, which he clasps with a tender grip.
“cinnamon is excellent for masking strong odors and is even used to conceal the scent of poison... but you wouldn’t be so cruel to me, would you?” he remarks with a playful smile, though there’s an ironic edge to his words, given his current condition.
you let out an exasperated sigh, “you wouldn’t take your medicine, qiu’er. i never thought you’d be such a stubborn doctor.” 
he chuckles softly, the sound low and a little raspy. “stubborn? i prefer ‘selective.’” his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “and i chose to have you as my doctor.” 
“if it means i get to be the one who takes care of you, then i’ll gladly accept that,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “now get some rest —doctor’s orders.” you help him settle back on the bed, careful not to accidentally press on his bandaged wounds, before gently pulling the sheets up to cover him.
you lean down to kiss the crown of his head, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing, rhythmic motion. “i’m only following your orders, baobei,” he mumbles softly, his words trailing off as he drifts into a peaceful sleep.
today the sun may blaze brightly in the sky, but its brilliance fades next to the warmth of your smile, a light that, though he may not be able to see, touches his heart more profoundly than the brightest day ever could.
how do we get a stubborn doctor to drink his medicine? easy. disguise it in a comforting cup of tea, masking the bitterness with cinnamon, so even he won’t notice until it’s too late. of course, your tricks never really fool him, but he lets you win anyway.
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homeboy has been through so much
MASTERLIST.
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mellowwillowy · 10 months ago
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TWST x Self-aware Yan Cannibal AU Ft: Unhinged GN Reader
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥
Unbirthday party has always been a merry occasion for 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥. Not only does he get to eat the strawberry tarts, but he also gets to have Trey's meat pie specialty.
Pigs who dared to enrage the tyrant by upsetting you, the law, are sent to the kitchen for the butcher and baker to process into something edible.
The card soldiers cheer in joy and anxiety, pleased to be able to taste the main course yet sweating over the idea of screwing up and ending up on the silver platter.
Yet part of them does not really mind if it's meant that they will be devoured by you, the law, their grace. Ace and Deuce have always irked Riddle but the sight of you smiling along with their pranks and mischiefs save them from the trouble they are about to face.
Cater will always upload it on magicam, boasting the sight of you enjoying your stay in 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥 as you nibble on the tart. Baked and minced to your favorite, as usual. Trey and Cater sure know their way around this, memorizing how you like it by heart.
--
"Looks like you two are having a hard time cleaning the guillotine huh?" You stopped in front of the guillotine, watching the other students along with the ADeuce duo wiping the blade that had severed yet another pig for you to feast on soon.
"Uh yeah, troublesome as always, I hate having this bloody mess all over my hands." Deuce furrowed his eyebrows, waving his hands for you to see. Ace immediately elbowed Deuce, "Dude, you are splattering the blood all over me!"
You chuckled at the duo before turning back your focus on Riddle and his chaperones, "I assure you, those blood does taste good too if you know your way around it."
Trey and Cater raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, seemingly knowing what they would present for you at the next Unbirthday party.
"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to have your Grace have a taste of it at our next tea party."
𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰
It's only natural to see the beasts ripping the guts out of the prey with their bare fangs. 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 surely offers an entirely different vibe when it comes to banquets.
Until Leona signals them, the beasts are nothing but starving predators, ready to shred the prey into minced meat. But Leona is nothing but a calm and obedient beast when it comes to you, eagerly waiting for you to give him the accord.
One tilt of your head and a nod is all it takes for Leona to snap his fingers, the chosen beasts leaping toward the prey eagerly as their claws and fangs tore them apart.
Jack was the fiercest among the others, even more than his seniors. For someone who held an upright moral integrity, he had it revolved around you and all sense of justice had been laid onto the tip of your tongue.
Ruggie on the other hand only watched in amusement next to Leona, waiting for the next batch of captured prey to be feasted by him. He would not cut line and steal a bite of what's not given to him from you, oh nooo, he was a patient hyena.
Leona cocked his head to you, eyes focused on you while waiting for you to lock your eyes with his, "Should I grab one for you to eat too, your Grace?"
𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞
Mostro Lounge has always offered the best dining experience. It is not to be doubted again that 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 is most definitely going to serve you the finest meal, personally handled and cooked by the Tweels.
And of course, those who fail to fulfill the terms of Azul's contract have to feel how the merfolks gut them, spilling their whole innards all over as they choose which part is considered the most delectable for you.
From the sophisticated look of the beverage, tinted dark red yet a hue of purple could be seen, giving it a pleasingly aesthetic look for you to fawn over before you drink it down.
On the silver platter was a heart, decorated with things you had no idea about but you had seen back in your world. Fancy diners always do that, you thought to yourself.
"Only the best part for your Grace." Jade bowed down as he adjusted the plate and utensils. Floyd was grinning from ear to ear as he dusted the sugar cube into your drink, "And something refreshingly sweet for ya' highness!"
You gave them a curt nod before slicing it, Floyd kneeling down next to you while his face rested on your chair's armrest, eyes glimmering in excitement as he waited for your feedback. Jade might not show it in his face but even you could notice how his feet tapped against the carpeted tile, something you'd never see from someone who could stand still for hours without moving like an inanimate object.
You gave them an approving nod and smile as you took a sip from the drink Floyd personally went over length to make for you, "Satisfactory as usual."
A pair of hands clasped on your shoulders from behind, Azul cooed right into your ear "But your Grace, surely it can go beyond that no? We'll make sure of that the next time you choose to feast here."
𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚
Banquet has always been something that is always happening due to Kalim's nature and Jamil has never really found any joy from it.
But all that changes if the banquet is thrown for you. Oh, how the viper ensures himself to go beyond length in preparing the dishes. With Kalim's endless riches, he can use all sorts of ingredients one would never be able to obtain without spending a fortune for their rarity. Only the freshest and best ingredients are allowed to be used for your meal and so are the living meat of the students.
Everything must be set to a T. Kalim may not be a tyrant but when it comes to you? He's unconsciously pointing his fingers and brows scrunched at anything that is not abided by perfection. The lamps are not hung at the right angle, the pillows have not been changed into new pillows and the animals must be paraded in order and not roam like wild beasts. Anyone who just ever makes the slightest mistake will be sent straight to the kitchen as an ingredient. Had it not been for Jamil's suggestion to send them all bruiseless, they would have been beaten until they were nothing but pulp.
You were taking in the sight of the parade, everything was as amusing as you had always remembered. But the true highlight lay in Jamil's cooking, if you have to pinpoint the best cook in this twisted wonderland then it had to be Jamil. Unlike the finery of Mostro Longue, Jamil's cooking had a different feel to it. It was not as aesthetic yet it did not change the fact that it still looked pleasantly delicious. If Mostro Lounge accounted for the positioning of the food in a numerical and angle way, Jamil offered everything in a neat bulk. Curry, prata, shawarma, and all. Its display screamed for people to grab one yet no one dared to unless you ordered them to do so.
You cocked your head toward Kalim who was sitting right next to you, eyes glimmering in adoration as he drunk in your expression. Oh, would you finally like to have a bite? He held one of the shawarma out toward you with an empty plate in his other hand.
Jamil had ensured that there were 2 different platters, one for you which was made from the best ingredients and seasonings, while the other was less if compared to yours but still delicious nonetheless. One was made from meat and blood that had been considered the best while the other was made from those that failed to pass through the requirements.
You took a bite from his hand, savoring the taste of Jamil's hard work while enjoying the show of Kalim's tyranny. Truly, you love being able to taint your beloved sunshine.
"Say say, are you enjoying it all, your Grace? Not even a beat of music missed and all the food that sprawled across the room is ensured to be of the best quality." Kalim brought a goblet onto you and you held it in your hand. He gave you another grin that was just as blinding as the sun, his finger beckoned Jamil to pour you the carmine drink, squeezed from their cries of agony and pain before they were minced.
"But of course, your Grace has no need to hesitate to point something out if it's not to your liking," Jamil chimed in as he watched you swirl your goblet. The two of them stared right into your eyes, eyes enchanted by you despite one being an enchanter, "Because we seek only perfection for your Grace's taste."
𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞
𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 prides themselves in their pitch-perfect diet. So what if their Grace has a different taste in the feast? All they have to do is readjust and tailor the whole dorm's diet to yours.
The fairest one of all, wearing a tiara that shines even brighter than any tiaras Vil has ever seen, truly living up to the radiance you emit just from sitting on the very throne with him standing right next to you.
It appeared that preparing a banquet was a huge feat for 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 as they were divided into 2 teams. Team One prepared the whole occasion while Team Two flocked toward you, amusing you with a theatric show as you watched them from your throne.
It appeared that Rook's fascination with the world of theatrics and you worked really well as he 'acted' out the role of a lover professing his love toward the protagonist really well. Strings of bizarre praises and wishes rolled from the tip of his tongue smoothly as though it was by nature for him to act so already.
Epel on the other hand was all energized to drag the qualified livestock into the kitchen after Vil had inspected them all personally. The livestock was to be of a healthy diet, bruiseless and ailment-free before it was allowed to be cooked and feasted by the Grace.
The moment Rook was notified that the whole banquet was ready, a trumpet was blown and you were led to the dining hall which had been decorated to match your attire. Were you wearing something cute, pure, sexy, cool, or pop? Either way, 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 never missed a beat in losing its elegance no matter what the theme was.
"Allow me," Rook pulled the chair for you to sit on before he readjusted the platter asymmetrically. Right next to your seat on the right was Vil sitting while the rest of the body stood, not daring to sit unless you allowed them to.
Seeing Epel all giddy observing you, you beckoned him to come to you and he whispered into your ear, "I seasoned it!"
You cocked a questioning eyebrow toward Vil and he could only sigh with a chuckle, "Oh what will I do with your Grace's taste bud?"
Rook poured a carmine red fluid into your glass, its smell told you that it was not made just from a fine wine but rather, a fine blood.
"A fine cocktail of white wine, dyed with a carmine golden drop, hand-picked and squeezed personally by me. Truly, your favorite, your Grace."
𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞
Honestly, what do you even expect from all these anti-socials? They are nothing but a bunch of hikikomori yet the Shroud Brothers just know how to surprise you!
Unlike the impractical methods that the others use to earn just a golden drop of blood from the livestock, the dorm has created countless practical devices that help them to create something quickly.
Compressors that grind down the gutless livestock into a fine drink. Shredders that allow them to save time from having to shred from chunk by chunk. And a practical inspection device that helps Idia sort out the best for you to feast on.
Ortho had to be the most eager one of all, singing non-stop as he ensured all were to be finished quickly when you informed him that you would be choosing 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 for your next banquet.
They specialized in efficiency and speed but that did not mean they lacked the skill of cooking a delicious dish. While it may be pale when compared to other dorms, 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 is a great option for when you are craving for something and want it to be on your plate in a short moment. They might not score 12/10 but they were able to at the very least score 8/10. Surprised much? Ortho had been practicing how to cook and all from the data Idia inputted into him.
"Uurgh.. uhh... y-your Grace... so what is the verdict? A level up? Or an increase in the ranking board? O-Ortho is really expecting your answer..."
You raised your eyebrows at his stuttering, "Getting better," you stopped for a moment to chew again, "and delicious."
Ortho immediately leaped toward you from Idia's back, causing him to squeak, his metal arms wrapped around your neck, "I'm glad! Please keep on coming here and I'll make sure to be the best cook you'll ever have!"
Idia brought a napkin over to your face, "Yes... should your Grace ever need for a quick meal, please come by... Me and Ortho... and Ortho... will always be ready at your disposal."
But who were you but the all-knowing God, you knew there was a slight taint of blot in your meal, Ortho, you assumed.
𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚
Lilia has to stay away from the kitchen. But don't worry, the bat is entrusted with hunting down livestock for the youngsters to process into something edible.
Malleus on the other hand is ready to strike anyone down with lightning should they make the slightest mistake in the banquet preparation.
Sebek is in charge of inspecting the livestock while Silver is in charge of the most gruesome part of the job (which was appointed by you for fun.) which is gutting. Surely tainting someone so pure like him has to be your favorite feast.
The candles on the table were all lit in emerald hue, fireflies surrounded you as Lilia levitated around you, joyously guiding you toward the dining table.
There you could see Malleus sitting on the second host seat, his hand prompts you to take a seat across from him. Lilia pulled the chair for you to sit before Silver walked out of nowhere, holding a plate of dishes for you to feast on.
Sebek on the other hand had been arranged to stand right next to Malleus, part of him was happy yet part of him envied Silver. Nonetheless, no barks had ever slipped past through his sealed lip.
"Kukuku, the boys went through great details and length in preparing this whole banquet, well, me included. It was fun hunting down these livestock for you," His index finger felt your platter, "it makes me feel like I must pick the ripest for you... feeding you... aa~"
Soon, he brought a forkful of meat sliced by SIlver earlier while you were distracted by Lilia. Malleus smiled at your dazed-out face and the way realization washed over you.
"May your Grace enjoy the blessing that you have graced us tonight." Malleus raised his goblet, urging you to do just the same.
"Cheers!" Lilia wiped your mouth with the napkin, Silver's hand holding out your filled goblet.
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲 ???
"My words! Did you have fun, hm?" Crowley immediately lunged toward you the moment you entered his office. He gave you the cutest pout you could ever see from him, his cheek rubbed against yours repeatedly.
"Are you jealous, Dire?"
"Of course not! How can someone as magnanimous as I, be jealous of my own fledglings?" And as though to prove to you his seriousness, he even posed ridiculously with his staff.
You cackled at him before giving him a kiss on his cheek, "I'm home, Dire."
Crowley stopped acting up and turned serene, giving you a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes.
"Welcome home, Master. Dinner's ready as usual."
Oh old times... ???
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mingisaddctn · 1 year ago
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mind over matter | s.mg
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Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay
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the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.
I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.
it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.
mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.
so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.
mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.
twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.
you almost forgot about the cat food.
in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.
holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.
"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.
"what? why?"
"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.
you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.
"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.
you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.
how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—
meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.
you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.
but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.
the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.
all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.
"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.
it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.
"yes."
"are you feeling okay?" he asked.
"yes."
"'then... how should we do it?"
you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.
your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.
"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."
and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.
you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.
but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.
one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.
shit, you moaned.
he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.
placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.
oh. OH.
how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?
"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.
"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."
"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.
before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.
"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.
you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.
"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.
mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.
"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.
feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.
kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.
while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.
without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.
"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.
holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.
the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.
the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.
"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."
OH. FUCK.
you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.
"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.
you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.
"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.
"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?
"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."
"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.
with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.
the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.
you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.
mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.
"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.
the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.
"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"
"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.
it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.
you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.
falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.
"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.
scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."
he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.
"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.
"yeah, you better be."
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sheepispink · 3 months ago
Text
The Perfect Pair
Masterlist AO3
WC: 7.6k Tags: fluff, marriage of convenience, leon kennedy/ reader
Summary: Leon can barely hold himself upright most days and you've finally decided to ditch the DSO life in pursuit of happiness. However, that'd mean leaving all those beautiful tax benefits and medical insurance behind. Turns out Leon and Chris are pretty persuasive, landing you as Leon's 'wife' but you cant help but start to feel something more, unaware that Leon's already set his eyes on you for life.
It’d been a long day at work, the usual really— Chris had roped him into dealing with another bioweapon appearance, thus leading him to take a helicopter to some trashy place, locating the bioweapon, and promptly knocking its freaky nature out of action. Now he lugged his weary feet home to the apartment you shared, his stomach craving a taste of something only your skilled hands would prepare for him. After a short elevator trip that thankfully alleviated the ache of his feet for a moment, he reached the front door and, with a quick fumble with the keys he had inserted the right one inside, opening the door.
“I’m home.” He calls out, his raspy voice filling the silent yet serene space before him. He somehow grew used to this; the sight of two sets of keys on the hook, the vast difference in style as he places his shoes on the rack, and the two coats on the bannister, one far smaller than the other. “Smells good..” He mumbles beneath his breath, making his way towards the kitchen where you stand, back facing him as you work your hands through a ball of minced meat.
“Welcome home.” You turn to meet his hungry gaze with your typical warm smile, heart warming at the exhausted look on his face and even more so that he’d soon find relief in the food you had made.
“You’re lucky, we had just enough mince meat in the freezer for your favourite beef burgers.” That was a lie. You had woken up early this morning and decided he had looked far too tired recently, and it’d been far too long since he’d had his favourite meal. So, as any good wife does, you wanted to make him feel better and took to the nearest supermarket, picking up all the ingredients you needed and some for a tasty dessert too. He always denied that he enjoyed sweet treats, but he would always be the first to finish them, whether it was a sweet chocolate mousse or a tasty doughnut you picked up on the way home.
He chuckles, his hand disappearing into his work jacket as he slips off the leather and lays it on the back of a wooden chair. It then migrates to his collar, tugging on it to alleviate the heat through his body, which is proven by the thin layer of sweat covering his limbs.
“Oh? Thanks, I was sure you finished it last week when you gave Kitty a gourmet meal for once.”
This home wouldn’t be complete without its resident cat, a Siamese fur ball that Leon graciously named ‘Kitty’ though he has no doubt referred to it with a million different names anyway.
“I guess I must've missed a bit. I really treated her for nothing.” While he was smirking, your mind was far from the lightheartedness of this conversation, currently panicking over his words. He had seriously caught you out there; of course you finished the mince, last week but was he actually accusing you of lying or worse—did he know? As you let out an awkward chuckle, he speaks up again, undoing his belt with one hand as his other grabs a glass from the shelf to fill with water. “I’m not complaining though; they really are my favourites for a reason.” He drinks down the glass of water in one swig, letting out a satisfied breath before rolling his shoulders back. “I’m gonna take a quick shower—I don't want to drown your nose with my sweat.” He chuckles again, finally leaving you alone in the kitchen again as he takes his path up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
To say your relationship with him was complicated was a massive understatement; it was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, feelings that felt illicit, and signals that were impossible to decipher. Well, for you it felt like this—you’re not so sure about him. In fact, for someone who sleeps beside him nearly everyday, cooks him meals, eats dinner with him, and even drops off his lunch, you barely knew anything about the man.
This all began when you decided to quit the DSO, finally having enough money to move to a more peaceful job with flexible hours and still end up supporting yourself. You had only worked in communications at the DSO, but that was still a pain in itself. Before you left, they had an informal work dinner. A bunch of agents and other workers came along to a diner for some food before heading to mess around at a karaoke place before the weekend hit. With so many people around, it grew far too hot too quickly, and you soon wandered the halls seeking a breath of fresh air before you heard your name called by an agent. The voice belonged to Chris Redfield–your superior—who was beckoning you to come over, cigarette in hand, to where he stood with Leon right beside him. They were both your superiors in the work field but were perceived as far more important due to the missions they accomplished and lives they saved.
“Yes..?”
You were more confused than scared or anything of the like—why did they even want to talk to you? It’s not like you often saw them. Even so, you walked over to them, trying to reduce the awkwardness when you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket, tilting your head slightly.
“You’re gonna leave soon, right?” Leon asks, taking a swig of the golden whisky in his glass whilst Chris blows another puff of smoke off to the side.
“Yeah, I wanted to move onto a different job, a quieter one that isn't so taxing.” You shrug, having only thought out a bit of it so far.
Chris and Leon shared a glance at each other before Leon spoke once more, rolling back his shoulders a little. “You see, I have a bit of a predicament, and Chris thought you could help.”
Before you know it, he’s explaining how busy his work is and that he barely gets home in time for a sip of water before he knocks out, and you’re not really sure how this is your problem until Chris butts in.
“So basically, he needs a wife. You, on the other hand, won't have any of the perks of the DSO since you’re leaving, which includes medical insurance, tax benefits..” He trailed off as you started to ponder it, you really would lose a lot of the things you had grown to exist around. It would be very difficult to manage, and you can't say you’d miss a lot of those perks greatly. The two men give each other a glance as you speak up, nodding along. “You’re right, I will miss out a lot, but I really don't want to stay here longer..” Before Leon can even try and slide it in, Chris has already blurted it out.
“Well, you won't lose anything if you marry him.”
So, after a bunch of awkward talks and surviving interrogations from your coworkers, you ended up with a small wedding, which was mainly done to please your own parents rather than yourselves. Now you’re here, almost a year into this non formal contractual marriage, and your feelings are muddled. Very muddled. It’s hard to not catch feelings when you’re somewhat of a hopeless romantic yourself, or maybe the teenage girl mentality came back full force now you have a lot more free time. You owed him a fair amount to be fair—he didn’t realise how stress-free your life was these days. Wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, maybe watch some television too, head down to the small little bakery you own and teach the part time teenager there before wrapping up at four o'clock and heading home again. Your skin had cleared up, you were actually able to sleep in on the weekends and actually do whatever you want— pick up new hobbies, eat proper meals, and read books to your heart's content.
What you’ve concluded is that your life has drastically improved and you are more relaxed than you’ve ever been. The problem with that is that with the new addition of all this free time and air to breathe in, you’re able to actually think about the man you’ve married. In simpler terms that you tried to deny for a year now, you’ve caught feelings—a lot of feelings for him. That’s why you’re currently stuck in a conundrum; you’re technically allowed to pursue said feelings, as you’re married and no longer ‘colleagues’ needing to act professionally, but does he want the same?
The pan starts to sizzle, snapping you out of your daydreaming as you place the flattened patty into the oil, lightly frying each side. Being his wife meant looking after him as much as he did to you, so cooking was often your chore to handle. Even though you were more than happy to do most of the chores, he’d still help with the dishes after dinner and often cooked when he could—when he was exhausted from another mission. Plus, he did his own laundry. He would’ve done yours too, though after the first time he tried, your cheeks had flushed immediately when he handed you a pile of your freshly washed underwear and t-shirts, and you quickly told him you’d do your own.
The staircase groans as he steps down the stairs, his movements a lot slower now that he had let the tension ease from his muscles in the shower. So far, you’ve managed to cook four patties, which was more than enough to satisfy his stomach and yours. But you had an extra two for his lunch tomorrow and because he tended to have a third burger “just because it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.That’s when you hear him curse softly under his breath, turning back to glance at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” His hair is damp, still dripping with water onto the white tee he wears. It’s loose and the one you bought him last month when you went on a shopping spree. You try to ignore the way your eyes naturally drift towards his chest; a small sliver of his pale skin peeks out where his hand disappears under his shirt, rubbing his abdomen in a strange way. “Did you get hurt?” You continue, turning down the heat on the hob so you can turn to face him better.
“Oh? This?”
He lifts the shirt a little, revealing the bruise on his right side of his stomach, and also gives you a perfect view of his toned abs. Damn. “It’s not as bad as it looks..” He mumbles, but his eyebrows are still knitted in a frowning gesture. “I’m annoyed because I missed an opportunity..”
That makes you blink, wondering what he could’ve missed in the time he went for his shower and came back here. Did he get a phone call? Or perhaps something happened this week you hadn't picked up on?
“An opportunity?”
“Yeah. I completely missed the chance to ask you, ‘What's cookin, Good Lookin?’. Damnit..”
Did the corniest line to ever exist really just make your chest tighten for a second?
You can’t deny the fact that the line itself had made your lips part as you stood there dumbfounded. Leon had a history with corny one-liners; in fact, whenever his colleagues happened to see you, they’d always mention whatever stupid thing he said during a mission. He’d say it to you occasionally too, usually random puns that he’d quietly snicker about, but he’d never quite openly flirt with you like that. Was it supposed to be a joke? Was it real? You couldn't tell, and so you quickly turned back around before your patties ended up burnt.
“O-of course only you would worry more about that than your own injuries.” His snickering is obvious behind you as you place the cooked patties onto a small plate. “Stop pestering me and go sit down at the table.” You feign annoyance, grumbling as you hide the furious flush of pink upon your cheeks. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t intend to give up that easily, walking up behind you and peering over your shoulder with his hands planted on the counter on either side of your waist.
“That was a good one, c’mon.” He argues, the most exaggerated pout on his face quickly disappearing when he watches the burgers sizzle in the pan. He loves your food so damn much.
“That was not a good one, shoo.”
Thankfully, he ends up leaving you alone in favour of Kitty, who had just woken up from her nap— eager to play with him even if it just means chasing after a wrapper he had thrown across the room. You place down two plates at the table, as per usual, along with a plate full of salad, a bowl of fresh chips you fried, and the small plate of patties— six to be exact. Then, you place down the two fancy glasses you bought last week and grab your usual favourite canned drink while grabbing a Coke Zero for him. Finally, you place Kitty’s dinner on the floor which she runs over for, immediately gobbling up the food. “She’s just like you.” You giggle, watching as she hungrily wolfs down the food, thus making him groan in return. “I do not eat like that.”
Dinner is the same. You’ll ask about his day in which he usually retorts in grunts and moans about the government, incompetent workers, and that woman.. Ada. Just the mention of her name used to make him go quiet back when you worked at the DSO, and even in the first few months of your “marriage”, he would shrug off the subject quickly. Now he talks about it here and there, mentioning how she suddenly appears and always seems to know his location. For some reason, it puts a sick feeling in your stomach, like someone is dragging their nails across the flesh of your insides.
“Ada.. was there. Ever since I saved the president’s daughter, it’s like she’s followed me everywhere. She helps me.. but then she claims to not care..?”
His words stopped registering in your mind after a while as your teeth grit against each other and you absentmindedly dipped your chip into ketchup over and over again. You can’t believe he could be so naive. She had played him once in Raccoon City, faking her identity and using him to her advantage. The same played out in Spain even if she ‘saved’ him. You didn't care about her damn motives; she worked for the enemy, and it irked you—she just used whatever she could to gain her benefit, and it seemed like no one could stop her.
“Earth to my beautiful wife, hello?” He waved his hand in front of your furrowed eyebrows and the obvious scowl upon your face. “You look like you just ate something you find disgusting. I thought you liked this too.”
You immediately realise you had zoned out, your face shifting to something sheepish before you finally stick the ketchup-soaked chip into your mouth. You didn't even get a chance to process what he just called you.
“No, it’s not the food; I was just thinking. Sorry, it’s nothing.”
That only serves to make him all the more curious, though he doesn't push it, instead continuing his story. “Where was I? Oh, right, then Ada shot—” He cuts himself off as your eyes immediately narrow, and you lower your head, picking with your food again subconsciously. It doesn’t take much to piece the clues together, his lips twitching upwards as a smile threatens to spread. Though he wants to test his suspicions one more time.
“Wanna hear something crazy? Ada tried to kiss me again.”
“What?!” You immediately sit up straight, the scowl returning just as fast and teeth grit, but it quickly softens when you see the smirk on his face.
“I knew it. You hate her, don’t you?” Leon always saw right through you, thankfully not with your growing feelings yet, and it made it all the harder to keep his marriage… Well, just as a contract.
“Fine, maybe I don’t like her. So what? She’s not exactly the most moral person.” You say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as you take a bite out of your burger and chew it down. “She helps Umbrella, can you really blame me?” That only makes his lips twitch again, and he leans his elbows on the table, eyes trained on every feature of your face.
“Are you jealous of her?” That almost makes you choke on the burger, and you have to take a large gulp of your drink to swallow down the rest of the food, your face immediately pinkening. It can’t be possible—there’s no way you’re jealous of that cunning, manipulative, hot, extremely hot woman. How did she even look that good?
“Ha— she should be jealous of me.” You scoff boldly, finishing the last of your burger soon after.
“Oh, and why’s that? Because you’re the one wedded to me?
A moment earlier, your heart would’ve described his face as a perfectly carved sculpture, the ones that people bid thousands to place in their homes because not showing off such a perfect creation would be a crime. Right now, he wore a sly grin with his eyebrows raised as he eyed you suggestively.
And that look was very punchable.
“Because I'm living the dream. I’ve got a bakery, a ton of free time, and I guess you’re there too, I suppose.”
With a roll of your eyes, you dismiss his words quickly, even though the faintest blush on your cheeks betrays your true thoughts. What if you said yes? What happens then?
“I should’ve known you wouldn’t give me that satisfaction.” He feigns a pout before his grin returns as he takes a massive bite into his second burger of the night. Of course, he just has to make an exaggerated moan, one elbow leaning on the table as the other covers his face dramatically.
“This is heavenly, you know? One day I swear I'll start dreaming about these burgers.”
There he goes again, babbling on about Lord knows what and his corny lines again. You can't help but flash a small cheeky smile, winking as you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher.
“Another reason for her to be jealous of me.”
Once the dinner has been packed away by his speedy hands, he’s returned to make the couch his home again, stretching his whole body against the length of it like a cat would. You’re placing the dishes into your dishwasher before inserting a tablet and putting it on for three hours. As you walk over to wipe down the table, you notice his eyes have fluttered close as he groans and gets comfortable on the cushions. You can't say you didn't feel a tinge of affection—well, much more than that, like a heap almost—every time he crashed out like this, completely exhausted from a mission. “Weekend tomorrow..” You remind him with a gentle hum, swiftly removing any stray stains off the table. “Don’t you want to have a good sleep, y'know, in bed?”
He lets out a muffled grumble in response, burying his face into the cushions before he reluctantly sits up, making you smile a little more—you’d scold him regularly about lying down after eating. “What movie d’ya wanna watch?” He says even if he would usually wander his way to the bedroom after you said that. It’s been at least a month since you had been together like this to watch a movie. A lot had changed in that month, specifically your growing feelings for him. Perhaps distance really does bring fondness, you think.
“I don’t mind; you like action, no?” You finish wiping down the dirt from dinner to glance over whatever he’s doing on the television, only to find him flicking through your favourite genre of movies. Shoving down the warmth on your cheeks is near impossible as you speed walk back to the kitchen. Were these signs? Were you reading too much into it? Your teeth graze against each other nervously as you look up to see him waiting expectantly on the couch for you to join him. What the hell is happening right now? He had always gone to bed immediately or scrolled through his phone for a while— so what’s with the sudden change?
Moments later you’re sitting beside him on the couch, knees tucked to your chest as he presses play on the movie he picked—the one you had mentioned you wanted to watch when it first got announced that it was in production. Despite your excitement, you could hardly concentrate on the movie when he was practically centimetres from you. He was leaning back against the cushions, one arm resting around the back of the couch where you sat and the other comfortably against the armrest. If you had just moved your head back slightly, you would brush against his arm. If you did that, would he wrap it around your shoulders? Just the thought makes you shudder a little, your chin moving forward to sit comfortably on your knees. It was like you were a teenage girl again, sitting in the movies with your crush while you wondered if he thought of you as a friend or something more. You couldn't even believe you were acting like this—hell the two of you were married legally, not to mention you were both grown adults! Who cares if he had just stretched out his arms, his shirt riding up, and you could see the scars on his stomach? Your breath hitching when he had shuffled up to you was completely unnecessary; the warmth radiating off of him was irrelevant, no matter if the characters were kissing on the screen right now. You practically jump when he pokes your shoulder with his hand, your head snapping to him instantly, and you can barely even form a noise when you see how close his face is to yours. His eyes had to be one of your favourite things about him, or was it the messy mop of dirty blond hair on his head? It could even be the sharpness of his jawline, the lines of wear beneath his eyes, how perfectly his nose seemed to be carved, or perhaps, crazily enough, the way his voice rang out in your ears in the mornings.
“Do we have any dessert? I’m craving something sweet.”
Every step back into the kitchen is like torture from how hot your cheeks are, the cold fridge air doing nothing to soothe the embarrassment as you grab the microwave puddings you had bought today. You can't believe you had been so flustered by the proximity that all that had escaped you was a strangled noise before you just hurriedly nodded and escaped to the kitchen. Those five seconds between the poke and his words felt like a millennia— an incredibly romantically tense millennia— where for those whole five seconds, you stupidly thought he’d kiss you right then and there. You fan yourself as if that’ll soothe the metaphoric rush of warmth in your face right now, incredibly embarrassed by your own thoughts and desires. When you sit back down again, you quickly hand him the hot pudding and sit further away from him this time. If you even felt that again, you felt like you’d simply explode altogether.
Unbeknownst to you, he was now wondering if you were annoyed that he had interrupted, and he frowned as he glanced down at the plate with just a singular spoon. Weren’t you going to eat too? Not to mention, you were all stiff and sitting further from him than before—now you’re really twisting the knife in his heart. First he had agitated you by teasing you about Ada, then he laid on the couch right after dinner like you always told him not to do, and now you even refused to eat dessert! Maybe he isn't putting enough effort into all of this as he originally thought. After all, you did a lot to run a bakery in town and still cook, clean, and look after his cat. So, he decides to take a shot and scoops up a particularly chocolatey part of the pudding, the part he always eats first, and holds the spoon up to your lips.
“I know you’re mad, but you can't deny this.” He plasters his typical boyish grin, nudging your lips with the metal of the spoon. But he’s caught off guard when you pull back in surprise, waving your hands around frantically in denial. “H-huh? I ate a lot of sweet things today already—”
“Shut up. Don’t you dare even say you’re on a diet either; you’re perfect already.”
He pushes the spoon against your lips which you accidentally part in surprise at his words, the warm chocolate filling your mouth immediately like an instant boost of serotonin.
“See, it's good, told ya.” He says smugly as you swallow down the tasty pudding and sauce. That’s only for a moment before he notices the smudge of chocolate around your lips from his struggle, casually wiping away the crumbs with his thumb before licking it.
He had just wiped the crumbs.
He wiped it from your lips.
He wiped it and then licked it off his hand.
He didn't even think twice.
“I-its not bad-” That was all you could mutter out before he committed the crime, and now you were left dumbstruck as you watched him casually lick his thumb and then take another spoon of the dessert—the same spoon you just ate from. He leans back against the couch again, about to shove another in your mouth once he gets comfortable enough, though he quickly realises that you still haven’t spoken since. “You can’t still be mad; I’ll shove another one in your mouth, you know—” At that, you know you’re sure to blurt out the truth, and you scramble up, about to make an excuse about needing a glass of water, before your wrist is caught in his hand, and you’re promptly pulled back against the couch again.
“Hm? Where are you going, pink cheeks?”
He says it teasingly, instantly making you flush all the more. You couldn’t understand how anyone could even be so casual about these things, not that you had little experience in the area, but seriously— he had literally just licked the chocolate on your face. That was an indirect kiss!
“Do you do this with all your friends?” The frown on your face is suddenly a little harsher, accusing, and suddenly there's a hint of betrayal. That only serves to confuse him more, you’ve been acting off for a while now, had he cheated in his sleep or something? “What? You’re not my friend, though? That's not comparable.”
He doesn't even see you as a friend? You can't help the way your heart drops in a way you’ve never felt before in your life; it almost hurts the way he can just so easily dismiss you after all the time you’ve spent together—contractual or not. “I- I see how it is..”
“See how what is? You’re not making much sense.” His eyes narrow as you suddenly turn your head away from him, arms crossing firmly on your chest, but what doesn’t escape him is the sudden daze in your eyes. Gently, his hand grabs your chin, squashing your cheeks as he forces you to face him, and his mind instantly clicks all the pieces together.
“.. (Name).” He says firmly, making you let out a small hum in acknowledgement, unaware of the way your eyes are suddenly a lot wetter than they had been before.
“What did you drink earlier?”
“What? All I drank was water, mostly.”
“What about when I told you about Ada, was that water?” Your eyebrows furrow as you hear him repeat her name again, immediately growing more frustrated. “What about her now?”
He lets out a heavy sigh, wrapping a firm arm around your shoulders before he forces you to settle against the couch against him. “You drank some of my drink, didn't you? You were way too annoyed to even notice the whiskey I mixed in.”
The thought immediately clicks into your head; everything is suddenly a lot clearer now, even though you still weren't quite sober yet. Plus, you were pretty much a lightweight when it came to his strong stuff. It perfectly explained the warmth spreading through your chest, the uncoordinated actions, and the way nothing seemed to follow the way your head wanted it to. “S-still, you said I’m not even your friend.” Gently, his thumb rubs the tears that have formed in your eyes and tucks you close into him with his arm snugly around you. Just in case you decide to face plant off the couch as you seemed to want to do before. “You’re not my friend; you’re my wife. Who else would I treat like that?”
“I’m not your real wife though.” You slowly look up at him, turning your head, so your glossy eyes can stare up into his, searching for the right answer— the truth.
“Those papers seem pretty real to me. The way I feel is also pretty real to me.”
He grins at you like he hadn't doubted that fact for a second, and he hadn't, not since you both had signed and received the certificate, one he sometimes sneaks a small fond peek at whilst you’re sleeping. Not that he’d tell you, at least not yet.
“But— I’m not your wife; that’s my title, but I don't act like that.”
“So? I still love you as anyone would with their wife; do you really think I wouldn't fall for you? You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”
You’re momentarily stunned into silence, not quite expecting that but still not believing it quickly, your tipsy mind making you say things that you never would before.
“That's because I do everything for you— not that I mind b-but, I just act like a good partner. You don't feel romantically for me.” You huff, your teeth gritting together as you pettily narrow your eyes at him. What you hadn't considered is that he’d tuck your hair behind your ears, carefully pull you into his lap, and take one of your hands in his. He fondles your hand beneath his, his thumb rubbing gently over the skin before he brings it up to rest on his cheek, smiling fondly at you.
“I’ve been busy, I know. It’s quite hard having an agent as a partner, no? I already regret all the love I've lacked to give you.” This time, you’re positive that your cheeks are reacting to him, breath hiccuping when he turns his face in your grasp. His lips press a kiss to the palm of your hand before intertwining that hand with his and holding it against his heart.
“You just had to go get tipsy, didn't you?” The warmth of his hand on yours as he squeezes it gently is like a drug, one that squeezes your heart at the same rhythm whilst his teasing voice dances in the air around the two of you.
“Not my fault you always have to have a glass with dinner..” You grumble, not happy with how fast he had proven you wrong even if he had just confessed to his deepest feelings. He finds it quite endearing how stubborn a little bit of alcohol can make you. ”Alright, we can blame me for this one. How about you finish this pudding with me, and we can get you settled in bed, how does that sound?”
Before you know it, he’s wiping chocolate stains from your lips again as you sniffle in his lap, mumbling some nonsense about your so-called lack of lovelife while the movie plays in the background. He enjoys all your little comments about the movie, even when you subconsciously glance back at him when the couple starring do something romantic. Taking you up to bed is easy enough considering you’re only just bordering tipsy at the moment and you hardly weigh anything compared to the things he usually deals with. Your head just lolls lazily as he helps you upstairs, your eyes slowly blinking up at him when he sits you on the edge of the bed. “What pajamas do you want, pretty girl? How about your favourite?” The water he helped you drink before had sobered you up a little so you’re starting to feel better already. However, your mind is still a little hazy so you just nod along, not minding if this is the first time he undresses you.
Making sure to be gentle with you, he strips you down to your underwear before helping you pull on your warm sweatshirt and plaid pants. His lips twitched upwards when your own fingers tried to beat him with dressing yourself, finding it adorable how you still insisted on doing everything yourself. He could just put you to bed, but after watching for countless nights how you slave away at your skincare routine and keeping your teeth brushed well— he’d feel awful if he broke that. Before you know it, you’re sitting on the sink as he gently holds your jaw, his other hand using the electric toothbrush to clean your teeth. You’re a little uncooperative, swerving your head away at first until you just settle into a sleepy calm and he handles you with no problems. In no time he has you back on his lap, sitting at your small vanity as he carefully attempts to remember the order of your night time routine. What even is this? He thinks as he picks up a suspicious looking serum, labelled as snail mucin and gives it an experimental sniff. He thought it’d smell worse to be fair.
“No, you have to put the toner first and then the serum.” You mumble at him, gently tugging at his hands with your fingers and before he knows it, you have a toner pad all up in his face, wiping over his nose and cheeks before you cover the rest of his face.
“Hey- i’m meant to be doing your skincare. I don't need this stuff.”
He almost feels a pang of hurt in his chest as you raise an eyebrow at him, as if accusing him of having bad skin. With a huff, he removes the toner pad from your hands and throws it in the bin before gently pulling at your cheeks. “I have great skin, thank you. Dont give me that look.”
You immediately frown and attempt to puff your cheeks, causing him to have mercy and let go before he grabs a new toner pad and repeats your actions to yourself.
When you come back to your senses, your head is smushed against a pillow whilst he changes by the closet behind you. Your thoughts don't feel as hazy as they used to be, and you’re even starting to contemplate everything that happened earlier. Did he really mean what he meant? Did he actually like you.. romantically? You physically cringe at your own thoughts and hide your face behind your hands, groaning just quiet enough that he doesn't quite hear it. Sleeping next to him had always felt odd to you, but you always slept at different times so it never really felt romantic in any sort of way. You liked to stay up late and he liked to get a decent rest before the next morning. It was only recently that you started glancing at his sleeping face beside you, admiring the peace in his expression when he lost himself to his dreams and no other worries. Otherwise, it just felt like a roommate, nothing more nothing less.
But now his trousers were falling to the floor behind you, and you were laying in bed not quite falling asleep nor attempting to stay up. Suddenly, he wanted to sleep with you, not only beside you. It suddenly felt all too real that you two were actually married, actually partners and actually slept beside each other each night. What next, were the notes you left in his lunch romantic too? In truth, you were slightly freaking out but that might’ve been the alcohol making things a hundred times worse than they should’ve been, especially since you had started crying unannounced earlier. That’ll play in the back of your mind forever but for now you’re focused on his soft footsteps as he approaches the bed, dressed in a much looser shirt and pants. He always slept like this but this time he looks down at you, one finger gently poking your cheek as he sits on the other end of the bed.
“I actually prefer to sleep with my shirt off. But we always fell asleep at different times so I never got to ask your permission.”
He hums quietly, the finger now gently rubbing along the soft curve of your cheek instead.
“You can.. I don't mind.” You say quietly, eyes trailing over his form as he settles himself against the headboard right beside you. Touching you.
“Are you sure your cheeks won't get too red?”
He teases, hand moving towards the top of your head to gently card his fingers through your locks. You push yourself up to a sitting position, letting out a soft yawn as you do so before you blink at him hazily again. This time, you press forward and place your hand on his abdomen, absentmindedly rubbing your finger there back and forth. “I want to see your injuries.”
Not even he can stop the way his face softens at that and he tucks you into his side again, his other hand pulling the shirt up and over his head to discard onto the carpet beneath the bed. This view is only for you: his paled skin, the fresh scars, the old scars, fading bruises and fresh bruises, stitches that fall out and others that are pulled tight but most of all, his body. All for your eyes only, only for you. Your hand runs gently over the outline of his newest bruise, a deep purple that covers the entire expanse of his hip. It’s blooming into something worse and you’re sure it’ll hurt more tomorrow, not that he’d ever complain about that anyway. “You always come home with injuries, and you just play them off. Don't they hurt? Don't you want me to care for you?”
You say quietly, voice even softer now that you’ve sobered up, and he just lets out a breath, his face turning to watch the way your brows furrow and your lips press together. To have someone fuss over him like this is something he never thought about much, but it didn't mean he hadn’t craved the idea before. Yours was genuine worry, and you always held that genuine care for him. But it felt different now, more natural, more intimate. Like he was the only one you would worry about like this— he loved that feeling.
“I don't ever want you to worry about a thing, even if I do like the way your eyebrows crease when you do.” He chuckles softly, leaning down to press his lips affectionately against your hair before sitting back up properly again. “I suppose if you really want to.. I couldn't deny I'd be flattered to have you care for me.” The curve of your lips is what makes him smile as well, finding it all too endearing how easily a grin can form on your face.
“You’re such a flirt..” You mutter, trying to play it off and wiggle out of his hold on you, only serving for him to raise an amusing brow at you. “I’m only making up for what I can’t do to a tipsy girl.”
“I’m not tipsy..” You argue, sitting up a little straighter which makes his arm gently rest on your lower back instead.
“Oh? Really now? Let me test you then, since I used to be a policeman.”
“Fine, give me what you’ve got.”
“Sing the alphabet backwards if you’re sober.”
You instantly splutter, shaking your head quickly.
“Hey! Not even a normal person can do that. I knew you didn't actually like me.” He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes up at your grumbling, squashing your cheeks to make you shush.
“Is it really a crime that I don't want you to forget our first kiss because of some stupid whiskey?”
“Your stupid whiskey.” He finally rolls his eyes at your retort, gently pushing you back into bed and pulling the covers up and over you. “Alright fine, my stupid whiskey. Now, be honest with me, are you sober?”
The little frown on your face has disappeared with the hope his question brings, and you nod quietly, wide eyes looking into his.
“Are you very sure?” You were definitely sober now, his voice immediately lowering to a rasp as his hands travel up to cup the soft curves of your cheeks as they begin to turn pink. Just like that, he’s the man you’ve fallen for all over again, soft strands of fair hair framing his chiselled face as if they’re perfectly placed to put you under his spell. His index tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gently rubbing the skin of your cheek with his calloused thumbs. His skin is so rough and yet you can't help but feel he is so soft at this moment; his eyes are like gentle waves, looking at you so fondly that you finally remember to reply.
“I-i'm sure.”
He doesn't hesitate, leaning in closer until his nose just touches the tip of yours, eyes locked onto every small movement you can even think about doing. “Can I?” The nod you give is the green light he’s always dreamed of; this day is all he has ever thought about since you joined his life. You let your eyes flutter closed, feel the warmth of his breath that tickles your skin as he draws closer and closer until his lips meet yours so gently. You have to physically stop yourself from giggling, probably the alcohol still trying to make a fool of you, but you just can't believe he’s the one wrapping you in his touch. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets out a small gasp when you suddenly gain the strength to meet him upright, almost as if you’re threatening to pin him instead. Of course, he couldn't just let that slide easily. So, as anyone would, he pushes you back down into the mound of pillows, causing you to squeal as he leaves his touch all over your face, fleeting kisses painting your skin a rosy red. “You better not forget this in the morning.” He scoffs playfully as your eyes squeeze shut, giggles that spill out your mouth while he gives the affection he’s craved to gift to someone for years.
His job is hard, his life has been hard, and even this marriage initially felt the same. It wasn't so much the fact that he had essentially tied himself down to someone he barely knew, it was the realisation that he would never find his one person. That's why he did this after all, it seemed like it’d benefit the both of you and the day where he’d actually have a woman by his side slipped away with each mission. You, you were different though. You may have been an agent before, but outside of work you were the sweetest thing. Always subconsciously fussing over him, delaying sleep to prepare his lunch no matter how much he insisted you didn't need to, taking a personal duty to look after his cat, and still not being afraid to ask him when he seemed low or uncomfortable. You were everything he never had, even the annoying nagging of trying to get him to not lay on the couch after he ate or the fact that's his third whiskey yet.
Corny lines, the occasional flirty remark, dragging you to watch a movie— he wanted to do all of that before so you’d become actually his, actually the one he could say he loves and loves him back. But things got in the way, life got in the way, and he was starting to see his opportunities dissolve with each tired return from the mission. Despite his grumpy attitudes some days, his exhausted look as he collapsed into bed at eight, you still managed to fuss over him all the same— never once did you treat him differently, if not for the fact you’d cook him a slightly nicer meal after missions.
He was still busy, yes of course, but somehow he had managed to win you over. Maybe it was his silly jokes, though he’d seen you stare at his hair many times before so maybe that caught your eye. In any case, he’s happy to give any part of him to you, if not all of him. So when he’s pressed the last kiss on your nose and pulls the covers high over you, he tucks you into his chest, a final kiss to your temple as he looks down at your angelic expression. The way your smile curves at literally nothing but his touch is enough to make him fold right there, but he doesn't right now, squeezing you against him.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”
He whispers out, and you can't ignore it, eyes snapping up to look at him just from those three words. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the way they question the truth and if this really is real. Then you nod slowly, tuck your head into his chest, nestled against the beat of his heart.
“I love you too.”
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livelaughlovesubs · 3 months ago
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okay my dude, have you seen the recent hsr leaks about mr. reca??2?2?2?2?1!#+@( I am so down bad for that man you wouldn't understand........ anyways, I'd like to ask for prompt 28 (fitting them with a collar) with him :3333
- anon
I saw!!! But I don’t have a single clue what his personality is like! I’d guess a fun but sly character? Welp, let’s see how this goes (I have no ideas help)
Dom!Actor!reader x sub!Reca - reader is GN
Warning: collaring, teasing, fwb…?
Anniversary event
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“Oh come y/n, for old time’s sake, do it for me, alright?” You clicked your tongue, not even looking at the individual who was talking to you, back facing to them with your arms crossed, “I won’t do it, I told you already.” A moment of silence, before they sighed and closed the distance between you two, “why won’t you take that role?”
“Mr. Reca, will you please respect my choices?” Suddenly you turned around and raised your voice, seeing him lean against the couch in the middle of the room, wearing a fading smile. “I need you for that role, there’s no one else who can take it.” He repeated once again, then continued with, “and I won’t leave until I’ve convinced you, or, if you gave me a reason for your decision.” You slammed one hand onto the makeup table in front of you, putting the other against your forehead. “If I gave you a reason, you’ll have hope, and keep trying.”
The male kept quite, he couldn’t argue with that one, “if it because of the writing? Or the personality of the character?” You shook your head, “no, none of that. Don’t bother me any further, Reca, don’t let our friendship go to waste because of some measly dispute.” He scoffed, grinning widely, throwing his head back in a defeated stance, “I’ve already got sponsors and began the preparations, I can’t go back now. Y/n, help me out, I don’t want to end up as minced meat.”
You chuckled, answering his plead with a sarcastic smile, “it’s your own fault. Don’t worry, I can introduce you to some actors.” Reca looked down to his feet, taking a deep breath, exhaling, before staring you in the eyes, “no, I still want you, and I won’t have it any other way.” After debating for so long, you thought he’d finally crave in, though it seems you underestimated his resolve. “Reca, i-” “yea yea, you don’t want to, got it. So, what can I do to convince you?”
Your eyes widened at that, it took you a while to compose yourself, “wow, your resolve is admirable, but I don’t think I’ll fold.” The brunette stepped away from the couch, getting closer to you, mumbling, “don’t be shy now~ you can request whatever you want. A deal, of some kind, what do you think?” It’d be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued, just how far could you push his buttons, you wondered. “Whatever?” You repeated his words in a questioning tone.
“Whatever.”
“Do your movies mean more to you than your life?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelieve. “Let’s see what I can make you do.” His eyes lit up, his usual cheerfulness returned, “so you agree? Haha! You have my gratitude, y/n! Aeons, lemme kiss you.” Out of nowhere he hugged you and kissed you on the cheeks, both sides, before taking a few steps back. You on the other hand froze, blinking a few times, remembering his eccentric tendencies, then gagging out a, “don’t thank me- it’s a mutual deal.”
“Right, that reminds me, got any idea what you want?” Reca smirked again, he was in a usually good mood now. “I’ll just have you as my pet.” You eventually said, then you specified your statement, “ah, and I’ll only cooperate as long as you are my pet.” When you looked over at him again, his mouth hung agape, red eyes shrunk a little while he stood there like a statue. “…you are joking.” He asked carefully. “I’m not.”
An awkward silence broke out once more, luckily he broke the ice after a few seconds, though it was done with a condescending comment, “Right, you were an eccentric like that.” A breathy laugh escape you, “hah, says who?” You two kept eye contact for a while, then he gave up and hide his face in his hand, groaning, “urghhhhhhh.” A faint blush covered his ears, and probably his cheeks as well.
“So?” You questioned, wondering if that was too much for him. “What? Of course i agree.” Reca frowned, an embarrassed scorn on his face, why were you so nonchalant about all of this? After getting his consent, you couldn’t help but sigh, “You really are a slave to your production.” He grinned again, winking at you, “Aren’t we all slaves to our desires?”
You thought about it, opening the drawer of the furniture behind you, taking something out before taking a few steps closer to the rather tall male in front of you. “Yea, you are right, it’s a part of being human I guess.” Then you wrapped the leather around his neck, pulling gently, tightening it. When you were done, you raised his chin, teasing him with a hint of irony, “don’t take it off, it’s a gift from me, your master.” His breathing hitched, but he didn’t back down, feeling the weight of the situation finally catching up to him.
“I’m sure the movie will turn out great, all thanks to you.” He then stated, rubbing the collar around his neck, feeling a weird sense of comfort inside him. You nodded, “of course it will, I don’t tolerate failures.” Reca laughed softly, then whispered meekly, “right. For that, I’ll be a good pet in return, master.”
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just-a-sewer-goblin · 8 months ago
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Part 3 of butcher!Simon I've got two lovely anons in my inbox and seeing people liking butcher!Simon really made me want to put more of my thoughts about him into words. Thank you two! I hope this doesn't suck too bad. < Part 2 | COD Masterlist | Part 4 >
It’s Friday. That fact is the only thing that keeps Simon from turning himself into minced meat. Friday means you’ll come and get your ugly mutt meat. That means he’ll get to see you and hear your pretty voice and if he’s really lucky and plays his cards right, maybe he can make you laugh again.
So when some Karen complains that his meat went bad after she left it on the porch for a week (Jesus what did he do to deserve customers like that) he swiftly throws her out of the shop and tells her to get her meat elsewhere if the quality isn’t satisfying, instead of getting into an actual fight (Would you be proud of him for that? Call him a good boy?).
He doesn’t want to be occupied with some silly argument when you come in. You deserve his full attention.
When he sees you through the window he feels like a wife that has been waiting for years to see her husband come back from war (hah, the irony of that thought), and immediately straightens up brushing his apron down and adjusting the mask.
This time you only hesitate a second before you open the door and step in with your dog. Simon grins a bit behind his mask. He’s so proud of you for doing what makes you more comfortable that he almost murmurs “good little lovie” under his breath but he manages to bite it back. Thanking god for the self-control to hold that in because that would have weirded you out for sure.
You smile brightly at him and he wants to steal you away and chain you up in his home so no one else but him gets to see that.
When did he turn into such a fucking creep? He shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. Seeing you smile like that makes tension he didn’t even know he had bleed out of his shoulders.
“Hi, Simon.”
He almost shudders, hearing his name being said by you again. And instead of greeting you back, like a normal fucking human, he is so flustered by your smile that he only manages a vague grunt as hello.
He’s reverted back to cavemen days, it seems. He’s already made a fool of himself and you’ve been in the shop for barely a few seconds.
You step up to the counter, looking at the meat while your dog eyes Simon. At least he doesn’t seem to hate him which he counts as a big achievement.
Simon nearly groans again when he sees the adorable way you purse your lips and furrow your eyebrows in concentration. Yeah, Fridays and Tuesdays are his favorite days of the week for sure.
He watches you pick out your meat and carefully bags it for you, making sure that you have the best pieces.
“Not the usual?”, he questions and watches you nearly jump from suddenly hearing his voice.
Why is he so bad when it comes to making you feel at ease? You shake your head.
“Want to give my boy options so I know which ones are his favorites.”, you explain and pet your dogs back who promptly begins to wag his tail.
Damn, Simon would wag his tail for you too if you deigned him worthy of getting to feel your hands.  He could swear your dog is grinning at him victoriously when you stop petting him to pay and get the meat from Simon’s hold.
The mutt gets all nosy with the bag and slyly tries to take it from you. You turn your full attention to the dog.
“Down, boy.”, your voice is stern and immediately the dog settles, looking up at you with big innocent eyes. “That's my good little pup.”
Simon grabs onto the counter, blood rushing to his face and other places. God he really wishes he was born a dog.
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phasecornnuts · 9 months ago
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Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that
Please & thanks ❤️
Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3
Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice
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It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 
The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.
That is, if it weren’t human meat. 
Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.
“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”
Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,
“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”
He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”
“No! Her eyes are much too large!”
Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 
You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”
For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 
Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 
You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”
“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”
“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 
“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”
It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 
“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased
“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.
You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”
He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 
“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 
That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”
 “Pardon?”
“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”
“I hardly see how it matters now.” 
Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 
He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.
You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 
“How did you meet them?”
“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.
“Tch, how common. The trolley.”
You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 
Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”
The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 
“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.
“I like my alone time.”
 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”
“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”
She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 
For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”
“Alastor, may I come in?”
A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”
“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 
You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”
An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”
Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 
“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 
Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.
“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 
“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 
Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 
You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 
He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.
“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 
“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 
“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 
Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 
“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!
“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 
You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 
“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.
“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”
A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.
Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 
“Have me, how?” You teased.
“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred
You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.
“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 
Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 
Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”
The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 
You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.
Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 
Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 
“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.
The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 
“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 
Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.
“Let me show you.”
Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.
You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 
“Al,” You breathed
“What is it?”
“Get on your back.” 
And so he did. 
Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 
“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.
“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.
“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.
Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 
The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 
“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 
Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 
Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 
“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 
“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 
A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 
“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”
You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.
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crystalflygeo · 1 year ago
Text
Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader
cw/tags: This chapter has no smut but still contains highly suggestive themes and sexual implications. Mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. fem!reader suffers with self-worth and bad memories, including past insults and abuse.
notes: After so long finally part 2!! EEEEEEEE I am so excited but also so nervous pls ;w; like if you want the first part can be read as a standalone and have a "happy ending" but now I am committed to the emotional roller coaster, A/B/O dynamics and LONG BURN PINING so yep >:3c hope this does justice to everyone's expectation tho. And hope you like it and accompany me on this tale hehe
As a lil sidenote brackets [] now indicate past actions/words and bad memories, regular italics for emphasis, inner thoughts or the little pinyin I sprinkled here (which btw is taken straight from genshin wiki so...).
<- Part 1 Part 3 ->
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Being precious all of the sudden was… different.
Your hand subconsciously kept touching your bonding mark, as if to make sure it was still there, to soothe you.
After a quick meal just between Zhongli and you, consisting of some soft rice buns and delicious minced meat packaged inside a crispy pastry shell, you were then offered some new clothes. It was much more elaborate and certainly more layered than anything you’d worn before: a long skirt and flowy sleeves in a silky soft fabric, beautifully embroidered and hastily modified to make a hole for your tail to slip out. A sash keeping everything in place while accentuating your figure. You immediately loved it although it felt a little heavy and restricting.
Now, you quietly follow Zhongli as he leads you around the palace. He’s back to his former fully-human appearance, wearing an elegant attire, and everywhere you go, people bow at him and cast curious silent glances at you. It was rather unnerving.
It’s fine, you are used to being stared at, judged. You hold your tail up close for comfort.
The place is huge and you quickly get lost trying to map it out in your head, simply following along until you reach a large room with a few simple beds scattered around. Bookcases and cabinets stacked the walls, filled with all sorts of books, papers, jars and things. A pungent smell present in the air.
A green-haired man leans over a desk, glasses perched on his nose as he frantically scribbles some notes. What seems like powders and plants litter the space around him, along with a few more glass containers, incense, and a tea set with a steaming fresh cup.
“Baizhu.” Zhongli’s voice calls and you stiffen a little, hearing it again after a while of silence. It is still warm and deep but with a more reserved and regal tone like when he first met you.
The green-haired man (a Beta, you recognize) looks up and blinks in surprise, then smiles brightly and says some words you do not understand, you shuffle in place.
“Yes, this is her.” Zhongli replies. “I will ask you to speak in in common tongue so she can understand as well, I don’t want to unnecessarily unnerve her.”
Well, that is… very considerate. It eases you a little.
“Of course, your majesty.” He turns to you, his eyes were a bright amber, also with slitted pupils. Was it common in liyuens? “My name is Baizhu, the royal doctor and apothecary, pleased to meet you, empress.”
Empress?!
“E-Empress?!” You can’t help but blurt out.
“Why of courssse.” A high-pitched voice hisses and you almost jump when a white snake peaks her head from her coils at the desk, staring up at you. “You’re mated to hisss majesssty the emperor, sssso, it would be underssstood you’re now the empresssss.” Her split tongue flickers.
Baizhu chuckles. “Changsheng, be nice.”
You don’t know what to answer, mostly because you’re still reeling from the fact that you’re apparently now an empress, and because there’s a talking snake.
Liyue is weird…
“I decided to bring her here exactly because of that.” Zhongli turns to you and suddenly holds one of your hands, softly, staring at you with such affection it makes you melt. “Darling, would you let him check your bonding mark for a moment?”
You’re a little nervous, but it is not like you can refuse… right? You nod quietly.
Baizhu approaches and examines your neck and you fight the urge not to flinch or growl. No Omega likes it when a stranger is so close to such a sensitive spot. He hums and tilts his head but doesn’t touch you. “It seems it’s already healed due to her illuminated beast blood but the scar is present. I’d say the bond has been properly established, congratulations your majesty.” He smiles warmly.
A grateful bubbly feeling creeps up your chest. Properly established. So, it’s true.
You feel Zhongli’s hand squeeze yours lightly and look down at it, then back up at him. “Thank you, Baizhu. I will not keep you any longer. We still have a lot to do and I’m sure you do as well.”
Baizhu bows at him (at both of you, you realize) and then you’re on your way. Not before hearing the snake’s hissy whispers again
“A fine yin, hm…?”
--------------------------------------------
This is… your new home.
Zhongli shows you around some of the areas in what he called the “inner court” of the palace complex. Everything is so… large and open and lavish it has your head spinning, your eyes darting in every direction trying to take in all at once, walking fast on your new clothes. He guides you along the dining hall, a small temple, crosses through an enormous main hall where he explains audiences are held, and then a gorgeous outer garden that completely takes your breath away.
The wooden gilded architecture in golds and reds, the fresh wind and gentle sun. All sorts of new sounds and smells. The painted walls and high ceilings. The new plants and flowers. The chatters in a different language… everything is so distinct from the desert.
You soak in the new environment. Inhaling deeply.
It is both terrifying and exhilarating.
Finally, he guides you to another room, it looks similar to the nest room where you’d first been at, but larger. It is sparsely decorated with a large and comfy looking-bed, a desk, mirror and a small table with a couple chairs and a tea set. It smells nice enough.
You peek up at Zhongli.
“This will be your room.” He explains.
…What?
“We kept it simple for now but you are, of course, free to furnish and decorate it however you’d like. It’s close to my own room and anything you might need.”
Wait what?
Your ears lower down and you seem to deflate a little, disappointed. “H-Huh? But… I-I won’t be sleeping with you?” You ask softly.
Mated pairs sleep together, don’t they? They share living chambers and mix their scents together to symbolize their union. That’s what you’ve always been told. You are to always be near your Alpha, at his beck and call, warm up his bed and be ready to please.
Maybe things are different in Liyue? Or maybe it’s because he’s an emperor. Master didn’t tell you anything, so maybe you are just making a fool of yourself right now on your-
Zhongli clears his throat and looks at you a little surprised “I simply thought you’d be more comfortable having your own space, we… don’t really know each other very well yet, and I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Impose? As in order? But he’s your Alpha! “B-But I want to! Please! I-I mean… I thought that since we’re b-bonded…” You mumble shyly.
His cheeks turn a little pink, you like when that happens, he looks a lot less serious. He cups your cheek and you inhale looking up at those gorgeous golden eyes. “My dear dragoness. I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything you don’t want to. I know you were raised… differently, I cannot claim to understand your experiences, but listen to me: you are safe here.” He says the last part slowly, enunciating each word. “No one will scold you or punish you, least of all me. I want you to be free to speak and choose what you want.” He sighs. “Though I know it’ll be difficult...”
Furnish, impose, free… you don’t know any of those words.
But no punishment, to choose what you want, to be safe… it sounds surreal even.
What do you want?
His eyes soften at your nervous silence. “Let’s try this… do you really want to share my room, or would you like to stay here? I won’t be upset if you do.”
“I…” Your tail curls around you. “I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.” You mumble.
“Then it would be my honor, however, this room will stay ready if you change your mind, alright?” You glance around at the room again, and nod. “Now that that is settled, I have one last thing to do. I need to introduce you to a few very special people before I leave to-”
“Leave?!”
You didn’t mean to yelp like that.
“J-just to do my duties, I am not leaving you, I promise.” He corrects, a little taken aback. “I am sorry my dear, but as much as I’d like to spend every moment by your side right now, I have a few pressing matters to tend to. I know you’re nervous, everything is new and scary and overwhelming but I promise I’ll leave you in good hands and be back as soon as I can.”
You nod, now feeling a little embarrassed at the whole ordeal. You’d been feeling so at ease with his presence, showing you around, listening to his voice name and explain everything you saw that you’d almost forgotten. “You’re the emperor, I’m sure you’re very busy. No need to worry about me, I’ll behave, my lord.”
He frowns a little at that but says nothing, and you choose to say nothing else either.
Going back to the main hall, you immediately spot three people lined up looking at you with a mix of the already expected curiosity and excitement. One of them in particular immediately catches your attention, he’s an Alpha and you can’t help but feel a little nervous…
“Allow me to introduce you, these three are my most loyal and closest council members: Ping, Ganyu and Xiao.” Zhongli gestures at them and all three bow lightly. “Like you and I they all have the blood of xiānshòu, and you can ask them for anything should you need help or have questions. I hope you learn to trust them and feel at ease.”
You nod quietly, still a bit fixated on the other Alpha.
“Xiao, or general Alatus, is one of Liyue’s strongest, most resilient and skilled warriors. He usually keeps guard at the palace to ensure my wellbeing and now yours as well, if you ever feel danger call out his name and he’ll come.”
Ah, did they notice you were staring…?
With a gesture of his hand Xiao manifests a gorgeous Jade spear, crystalline green shards reflecting light as he taps it by his side, standing firm, you flinch in surprise. “My spear shall now serve you too, empress.” His eyes too are golden and sharp, filled with a certain rigidness and determination you can’t quite put your finger on.
“Thank you, Xiao, dismissed.”
Xiao hums quietly and promptly disappears in a burst of black and green smoke, you stand there a little startled, your hand clings to the brown fabric of Zhongli’s sleeve.
“He might be an Alpha as well, but I promise you he’ll cause you no harm.” Your alpha murmurs softly towards you.
“O-okay…” You squeak, a bit embarrassed.
“Ganyu here is one of the most reliable people in the palace, perhaps the entirety of Liyue. Everything of importance reaches her ears and passes through her eyes. She’s able to organize meetings, events, report, compile information and assist every negotiation and decision of this palace with stunning efficiency. She too will help you with anything you need and might be in charge of a little logistics regarding you settling in for the next few days.” Zhongli smiles.
The young woman with long blue hair and… horns? chuckles and blushes a little. “Your majesty, you're too kind, I merely love doing my job.” She puts her hands together and beams at you, sunset eyes bright. “I’m so honored to meet you, rest assured I’ll take care of anything you need. I hope you feel comfortable and welcome at the palace!”
That sounded like a lot. You weren’t used to people coddling you like this. You didn’t want to give anyone trouble or work. “T-that’s alright, thank you.”
“Now, Ping is probably going to spend the most time with you, she’s very knowledgeable in culture, history and the inner workings of the palace amongst other things. She has graciously offered to teach you liyuen and anything else you’d be interested in.”
Unlike the other two Ping has a certain calm aura to her, contrasting Xiao’s seriousness and Ganyu’s excited energy. You can tell she’s a gentle old soul as she approaches you with a soft wrinkled smile and graying hair.
“Don’t worry young empress, while Lord Morax here is regrettably busy with a work-packed schedule,” She gives him a playful side stare “You and I will have some fun. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” She takes your hand and pats it comfortingly. It’s kind of an awkward gesture for you, but you still welcome the warmth and good intentions.
Zhongli chuckles quietly. “In that case, I’ll leave you in her care and see you at night for dinner, alright?” He seems to hesitate for a moment but then cups your face in his hands and places a soft kiss at your forehead. The unexpected gesture has you blushing scarlet and your heart speeding up like crazy. His thumb brushes at the scales under your eyes, so affectionate in the smallest ways… “I know it’s not ideal, but it’ll be fine, yes?”
You stare at his golden eyes, the red lines, his handsome face framed with dark hair, his serene smile.
You don’t like this. You don’t want him to leave. The idea makes you uncomfortable.
But it’s not like you can say no.
You nod.
“Thank you, Ping.” Both of them exchange a glance and then he turns to the blue-haired woman still in the room. “Ganyu, if you will.”    
“Right away your majesty!” She scurries after him, talking quickly in foreign tongue while both walk away.
You stare after him for a moment longer.
“It’s a little difficult, isn’t it?”
You quickly turn back to Ping and then look down, ears folding back.
She laughs softly. “No need to be ashamed dear, it is understandable that you are unsure with all this, it’s a lot of changes for such a short time and you bond is still fresh, but let’s take it easy.”
Your hand brushes at Zhongli’s bonding mark again. “O-Okay…”
“Are you hungry? Tired? Perhaps you want to rest a little?”
You want to scurry away to your mate’s room and curl up there, that’s what you want, but…
“Um, aren’t you… going to train me?”
Ping blinks a little taken aback “Train? Oh! Teach?”
Same thing.
“Well, yes. I did offer, but only if you’re feeling up to it young empress. You can take your time, we don’t have to start right away. And like I said, take it easy, it's only your second day here.” She explains. “You won’t be absorbing any information if you are uncomfortable and jittery like this.”
“S-sorry-”
“No need to apologize at all. Now tell me, is there anything you’ve seen or heard today that you’re curious about, anything you want to do?”
What you want…
You think back a few hours earlier. The infirmary, the small temple, the grand hall, and…
“The garden.” You speak. “Can we go outside and see?”
Ping smiles brightly. “Of course! I’m sure there are a lot of things there that will catch your interest and cheer you up.”
Your tail sways a little after you as you follow the old lady along the corridors.
------------------------         
The garden is breathtaking.
More than a garden it feels like a whole different world. Bright and exciting and colorful, full of life. It reminds you of an Oasis, but just… more!
A grand pond with multicolored fishes and a couple of turtles sunbathing. Walk paths made of stone, plants everywhere you see: in trees with vibrant yellows, oranges and all shades of greens, in flowers with soft colors and small petals, in thick bushes. The light filters through the leaves and there’s the soft tweets of small birds.
“It’s… so pretty!” You exclaim happily.
“I’m glad you think so. Gardens like this are carefully cared for and preserved to impress, but they also represent beauty, abundance a sense of harmony.” Ping explains as she is now the one following after you, skipping along the path. “These trees you see are sandbearers, and that one is a ginkgo tree, you can tell the difference by the shapes of their leaves.” She points at each one and you follow with your gaze, picking a small leaf from the floor, golden and fan-shaped.
“Ooh…”
“See those smaller fishes? They’re goldfishes. The bigger ones are kois.” She gestures at the animals freely swimming around. Some of them are huge!
“What do they eat?” You blurt out.
“Well, usually algae and wheat. We can get some another day and you can feed them.”
“Really?!”
“Of course.”
“Oh! Is that a koi too? It’s so… long and pretty.”
“Ah, that one is a golden koi. Lord Morax has a few of them here. They are also called Jīnchì Jiǎlóng or ‘false dragons’ you know? For the small horns and long bodies. They do resemble your tail a little, don’t they?”
You move your tail forward and stare at it, then stare at the serpentine fish.     
“Yes, sort of… Jin chi… jia long.” You mumble.
“Here, I think you’ll like these ones. Come with me.” You eagerly follow after Ping as she rounds the pond and guides you towards a few red bushes. They’re dotted with pink round flowers. “These are silk flowers, Nícháng-huā, usually harvested to make clothes, but there are many special ornamental variants and between us both, your dear mate has a weak spot for these so he has quite the collection.” She chuckles.
“Orna…metal?”
“Ornamental, it means mostly for decoration.”
“Oh!” Suddenly you feel dumb, you’d thought for a second that was a liyuen word too. “I’m sorry… I don’t even know common tongue very well.” How could you even expect to learn liyuen?
“No worries, dear, learning a new language is a daunting task, it takes a bit of work every day. If you keep learning, using and practicing words, you’ll get there.”
You smiled softly. Ping was so… patient and supportive.
So much different from…
[You have to try harder.]
[Tch that is not good enough.]
[Are you stupid?!]
[Useless omega.]
You looked at the budding silk flowers and blinked. Once. Twice. Why was your vision blurry now? What was this feeling?
“Oh, oh young empress please don’t cry. It’s alright” Ping’s alarmed remark helps you understand. She fusses over you. “Are you ok?”
You wipe at your tears and smile, a genuine bright smile.
“I’m fine.”
And this time, you truly mean it.
----------------------------------------
After a rather fancy bath (the kind of like you used to take before being presented to Alphas, with bubbles and scented oils...) and a good dinner Zhongli and you headed over for his chambers for the night. You couldn’t help but be a little… nervous.
This is stupid. He’s your Alpha.
He’s been nothing but kind to you.
What if he wants to… d-do things?
Then you’ll do it. He’s your mate. It’s your obligation.
You were the one who chose this anyway.
Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, anxiety creeping up your chest. Were your fingers trembling? Was the room suddenly cold?
As expected, the bedroom was quite matching his style. Golds, browns and a bit of red and black here and there. Dragon imagery adorning some of the walls, a tea cabinet with a small table and shelves filled with all sorts of trinkets from precious stones and books to a beautiful fan and a tea set.
And then there was the bed.
A large canopy bed, enough to probably have your body and tail fully stretched across and still fit in the mattress, beautifully decorated and filled with fabrics and pillows.
The scent of Zhongli’s Alpha pheromones was definitely strong.
He yawns and runs a hand along his forehead, combing along his hair before pulling out the clip on it, letting his long dark locks spill free. He takes off his robe revealing his naked torso and you jolt.
It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.           
You undress as well into your light sleeping clothes and gingerly slip into his bed, curling up around his pillows, surrounded by his scent.
His.
You are his.
It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine-
“Darling, is everything alright? Are you uncomfortable?” He asks concerned, climbing on the bed as well and reaching out to touch your arm. You squeak. “You’re… terrified, what’s wrong?” Then Zhongli’s eyes widen a little. “Oh. The scent… I completely overlooked that, my apologies. Is it too strong? Are you ok? Should have given you some things earlier for you to scent and include them here. This is no good…” He rambles a bit to himself as he sits up and crosses his arms thoughtfully.
You stare at him, anxiety still surging through your veins but now mixed in with confusion.
“Would you like to sleep in the other room we prepared for you instead?” He sighs.
“I… t-this is… you… would just let me leave?”
Zhongli tilts his head slightly, now he looks confused.
“I promised you that the room would be available-”
“So, you don’t want to mate?”
Silence.
He stares at you for a moment as you grip at the bedsheets, still tense.
His eyes widen as realization settles in.
Ah. The pink dusting in his cheeks is back.
“Y-You thought that… no! My dear, no, no, no…” He coughs into his fist awkwardly. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea. A-As I said before I want you to be comfortable and feel safe. No Alpha will force you to do anything you don’t want. Not even me. And you don’t have to feel forced to do things you don’t want to, either.”
You look down. Although you feel slightly more relieved.
“I want to stay here. A-and if you want to, I’ll service you, my lord. I was just… nervous, sorry.”
“I assure you there is no need for any of that.” He says softly. “Here.”
He pulls the covers and slips them over you both, lying down facing you but still keeping a little distance. You do the same, curled up face to face with him.
He’s so effortlessly handsome.
And kind.
And you like him.
But he’s still an Alpha.
“Is this alright? We’re just going to sleep, I promise.” He brushes some hair away from your face.
You nod.
“Is there… anything you want to talk about or ask me?”
You... don’t know.
You shake your head.
“Hmmm. Want to share about your day? What were you up to with Ping?” He gives you a playful smile. Suddenly he feels less like an imposing strict emperor, or like a scary Alpha. He’s just your Zhongli.
“She… showed me the garden. I wanted to see.”
“Ah, the royal garden has many fascinating sights and it’s a beautiful landscape to retreat to and ease one’s mind. I had the feeling you’d be interested.”
“There were so many beautiful things. She taught me about the silk flowers, nícháng-huā. And all the trees and fishes and birds.”
“Oh? Are these your first words in liyuen, my dear?”
You giggle. “I… suppose they are. She also showed me your turtles Jiàn and Fù and told me what their names mean, they are so cute. Oh! And we saw the liúlí bah… bai… bǎihé! I sang to them and they bloomed! It was... amazing.”
“I see. Not everyone can achieve that, I’ll admit I’m quite hopeless at singing.” He chuckles “What more did you learn?”
Feeling much more content and at ease you continue retelling all the new things you had experienced and the vocabulary you had learned including how to introduce yourself and some greetings and basic words. Talking for what felt like hours until weariness and sleep claimed you both.
Zhongli simply listened and stared at you, captivated. He seemed content as well.
It made you happy.
------------------------------------------
For the next couple of months, you established a sort of routine.
You’d wake up early alongside Zhongli, even though you didn’t need to, you simply enjoyed having some morning tea and breakfast with him. Afterwards he’d go tend to some of his official duties and you’d stay with Ping Lǎolao, learning more and more each day. By now you could even follow some basic conversation (provided the other person didn’t speak too fast) although reading and writing was still extremely difficult.
You’d expressed interest in some gardening and even headed to the kitchens to prepare some food by yourself. The maids claimed there was no need for the empress to do such ‘menial tasks’ but as an Omega you pride yourself in certain things, and cooking for your Alpha was something you’d yearned to do.
You were overjoyed when Zhongli praised your Jade parcels.
You’d always have lunch with him and some days he’d accompany you for a stroll or you’d stay at his study for some leisure time, or even at some meetings. It had been a little unnerving at first but you also knew it was important to know others and be known in the council, as well as understand Liyue outside of the palace walls. After all, you are an empress now.
At night, you slept close to him. The initial awkwardness of sleeping at opposite sides of the bed soon traded for a much cuddlier approach, often with you curled up to Zhongli’s chest or him spooning you, tails often intertwined together. The bed and the entire room now have a mix of your combined scents, like true mates.
And so, life was good…
------------------------------------------  
You’re slowly pulled out of your sleep as Zhongli stirs in the bed. You grumble a little and yawn, already missing his warmth. It was so pleasant…
“Good morning, my dear dragoness.”
“Morning…” You mumble, not opening your eyes and instead blindly reaching for his pillow to hug and cling to. “Can we stay for longer?” You whine.
“You definitely can, but I have to go.” He kisses your forehead “Rest, my dear.”
You pout but say nothing. Squeezing at the pillow and burying your face in it.
It smells so good…
------------------------------------------  
“Hmm… is it warmer today?” You wonder aloud as the maids help you up with the layers of your hanfu. The clothes still hot and heavy in contrast to what you used to wear at the desert, but today seemingly more so… the sash feels more constricting than usual. “I-I think I’d like to wear something a little lighter… if possible.”
“Of course, your majesty, no problem.”
You smile at them, grateful.
 --------------------------------------------
Sitting at Zhongli’s study room you practice some basic liyuen calligraphy while he seemingly goes over some important documents. The silence is comfortable and a warm cup of Qixing tea steams at both desks. Yet, something keeps bothering you.
You huff lightly, scratching and picking at the scales of your tail, irritated with the uncomfortable feeling. Why is it so itchy? A couple of them fall off, revealing new glossy ones underneath.
“Ah…” So that means…
You stop for a moment. The feverish feeling, scents being stronger on your nose, the urge to nest and cling to your mate.
Hmm… part of you is a little excited. And yet, there is fear.
------------------------------------------  
“You have quite the appetite today, dear. Eat slowly, the food won’t go anywhere.” Ping chuckles as you practically pick a little of every dish while still trying to keep some modicum of elegance. Chopsticks weren’t that easy after all.
“Yes… I think… I think it’s my pre-heat hormones.” You sigh before munching on a shrimp ball.
Your heat…
Your first heat with Zhongli. With any Alpha to be honest. You’d always had to endure them on your own (Master couldn’t have you get pregnant) and they were excruciating and debilitating, crying out for days with your skin burning and itching, trying to sate yourself with your fingers and humping pillows. But now… you’re happily bonded.
Would it… feel good again?
Like, that first time you two mated…
You feel your cheeks heat up.
“Excuse me?”
“Hm?”
You’re brought back to reality to see Ping staring at you seemingly a little alarmed.
“Pre-heat? Young empress, are you going into heat soon?”
“Y-yeah? Probably um, tonight…? Or tomorrow.” The onsets are always so quick, and your cycle has always been more or less stable.
The elder places her chopsticks down. “Have you told Lord Morax?”
“Um. N-No, not yet. But… m-maybe he already caught on...” You tilt your head.
…Right?
Then again even you took a couple of days to identify the signs, and now for sure you were at the brink of it. Maybe he’ll mate you tonight…
Hm… how will Zhongli react to your heat scent?
You have to do your best!
[Be a good omega.]
Ping stands up, her expression still gentle but with a sort of urgency to it, your instincts catch the feeling she’s worried about something.
“I have to inform about this, please stay here dear.”
Now you’re nervous. You nod slowly.
Why does it feel like you did something wrong…?
------------------------------------------
After that, things get… chaotic.
It’s only a while later that you find yourself at the infirmary. Ganyu and Zhongli are also there and everyone’s anxious pheromones in the air do not sit well with you (subtle as they are, your nose is hyperaware right now).
“I’m sorry the symptoms are already settled in. At this point it is simply not feasible to give her suppressants, she has to go through this heat.” Baizhu says, looking troubled.
Feasible? Suppressants? More unknown words but…
Is there something wrong with your heat?
Ganyu scurries off and Ping starts talking with Baizhu on the other side of the room. You cling to Zhongli’s robe, trying to soothe yourself with his presence but his scent is… agitated.
You whine to call out to him. You’re scared.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Zhongli pulls you close, cupping your face again, staring straight at you. “No… no my dear dragoness, of course you didn’t, it’s just…” He steels himself searching for the right words, it doesn’t ease you in the slightest. “We didn’t expect your heat so soon. I should have known, noticed… I’m sorry.”
Why is your alpha apologizing to you? That is ridiculous.
“Is it a bad thing?”
“It’s… not the right time.”
You’re so confused.
Don’t Alphas like it when Omegas are in heat? Soft, pliant, warm, needy and ready to breed.
“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to do this…” He says. “And… you could trigger my rut, you could end up pregnant. I don’t want to… scare you, or hurt you. It’s much too soon for us to share your heat. I thought we’d have more time for you to get acclimated to Liyue or…” He shakes his head. “Nevermind. For the next few days you’ll be in a separate room, yes? No one will disturb you during your heat, I promise.”
“B-But then… I… what…?”
Alone?
“Usually omegas take suppressants, like a type of medicine, to stave off their heats so they don’t have to face these risks or suffer them alone, and then when they’re ready, when they want, they choose to share heats with their partners.” He explains.
“But I want to! I… I’ll be good!”
Zhongli sighs. “Darling you are good, you are precious to me. You don’t need to prove anything or do things because they are ‘expected’ of you.”
He’s not listening!
He asks you what you want. He says you can choose. But now that you tell him, ask him, beg him even… he denies you?
How come you’re always making the wrong choice?
Was it all a lie then?
“But I- T-then- Why-… YOU’RE CONFUSING ME!!” You yell, tears stinging in your eyes.
There are a few gasps and you see not only Baizhu and Ping, but Ganyu and some of the maids staring at you in shock. You cover your mouth, eyes wide at the sudden burst of fierceness and emotion.
You yelled at him.
You talked back.
You should be punished.
He stares at you, frozen like a statue for a few moments. You stare at him, pitiful, your eyes begging. A whimper leaves you and Zhongli lets out a shuddering breath.
Oh, your Alpha wants you, you know it.
"Please..." You mumble, voice so small.
"I'm sorry my dear, it's better this way." His hand moves towards you, to cup your face again or brush at your hair you're not sure, but he stops himself before you can find out. He sighs, averting his gaze and looking conflicted, and then turns around.
This is your punishment.
"It'll be just a few days, you'll be well-cared for. This is for the best." He says sternly, voice pinched.
And then he leaves.
Your heart shatters.
Everything is a blur after that. You’re gently guided along towards an empty nest room, the same one you'd first met him at, there are some things with both your scents on it but they feel sterile, washed anew.
Your hands start trembling. Your eyes start to water. Your lips quiver. Your throat feels tight, choked and dry. Your body feels feverish, hot and restless.
Zhongli rejected you.
“Your majesty please calm down."
[Useless.]
[Moron.]
[Whore.]
You could no longer breathe, hear nor see. You feel like you're drowning, unable to process what just happened. Your mate…your precious mate…he…he…
He abandoned you.
“Your majesty…?"
You scream.
1K notes · View notes
ashlinxsloves · 4 months ago
Text
-Gimme All Your Lovin'- <Sam Winchester/Reader>
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Tags: Sam Winchester/you, Sam Winchester, slight age gap!, Sam's like 24 & the reader is 18, so season 3 Sam, kind of a sibling dynamic?, but not really, Sam knows the reader has a crush on him, kinda self-indulgent lol, I was a Sam girly before Dean and Cas ok?, no y/n, bear with me while I write this, I am having a surge of motivation to write, we all pretend that Dean didn't die at this part, Dean is mentioned, slight change of plans, there might be a bit of angst lol, I don't know how that happened, but oh well.
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Summary: You were starting to gain feelings for Sam, and you didn't know what to do about it. It was beginning to strain your relationship with him..
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Notes: You read the tags, you know what you're in for :] this is purely self-indulgent lol... We have Sassy Sammy though ;3 Also, semi-beta read, I was on auto mode when writing this lolol
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Word count: 3.1k
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Title from Gimme All Your Lovin' by ZZ Top
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ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
"Can we not turn the music on right now..? I'm tryna look for a case here," Sam looks at you with a tired expression. He was in the backseat, skimming through a newspaper.
"Don't be a sourpuss, Sammy. Let the kid put on some tunes, maybe then it'll loosen you up enough to get that stick out of your ass," Dean snickered, nodding at you as you turned on some Bon Jovi, making Sam groan in annoyance when you turned the volume up.
"Come on, Sammy, don't be a killjoy and enjoy the music," you pouted, clearly trying to rile him up. He rolled his eyes going back to the newspaper. You watched him from the rear-view mirror, admiring how dopey yet handsome he looked in the backseat, focused on looking for a case.
Dean elbowed you, causing you to look away from Sam and at him, giving you a 'you're staring for too long' look. You cleared your throat awkwardly, face turning into a pinkish hue, making Dean chuckle. Sam looked up from the paper, confused yet curious about what was happening in the front seat.
You accidentally made eye contact, making you turn even more red, turning the volume of the music louder to try and cover up the awkward tension. Sam sighed, not expecting you to turn on the music any louder.
While listening to the music, you zoned out thinking about some of your past hunts with Sam and Dean - well, you're mostly thinking about Sam and the times he saved your ass from becoming mince meat from the monsters you've fought. You know you shouldn't have grown a crush on him but it's not like you could control it! Sam was kind, tall, smart and protective. You just had to be a sucker for guy's like that huh..?
But Sam only saw you like a little sister and you knew that. The ruffles on the head, motivating you and supporting you was out of brotherly love. Nothing more, nothing less.
The car stops, taking you out of your trance, and Dean pulls over at a diner, "I'm gonna go take a leak and get some pie, don't do anything nasty while I'm gone," he winked at you, causing you to groan and shooting him a glare. Once he left, the car was filled with Dean's music playing softly in the background and the newspaper rustling every time Sam changed a page.
Out of pure habit, you started to pick on the skin of your nails - it was a thing you usually did when you were overthinking. Sam seemed to notice, grabbing your left hand before it started bleeding.
Sam checked on your fingers, his touch making you nervous as you pulled your hand away, your heartbeat quickening, "I'm fine, Sammy.."
You grumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. He wasn't really convinced but let it go for now. Sam knew of your feelings, but he just wasn't over Jess. That type of hurt took time to heal and you knew that. You both did.
"Just stop picking at it, okay? I don't want you to bleed," he said your name in a soft tone, making you look at him. He had a small warm smile, his head tilted to the side - it made him look like a cute puppy, and it made your heart swell. You just gently nodded, quietly waiting for Dean to come back.
Once you got to a motel, you plopped your duffle bag on the bed, groaning tiredly... why did you have to gain these feelings for Sam?
It was frustrating, but you couldn't do anything about it. You were just a kid in his eyes. Or what you told yourself at least.. there was just no way he'd actually gain feelings for you.
Deciding to take a quick shower, you got your towel from your bag, not trusting the towels they gave you at the motel. Before you could enter the bathroom though, someone knocked on your door, making you pause. Opening the door, your breath slightly hitched when you saw Sam, his hair damp, smelling like soap and citrus.
"Oh, uh, hey– what's up?" you asked the tall male in front of you while letting him into your motel room.
"Just checking in on you... wanted to make sure you were okay," he murmured, his voice gentle as he sat down on your bed before noticing that you were holding your towel and shower products, "Oh– were you about to shower? I could leave and come back later-"
"No- no, no, no.. you're good," you smiled at him, hanging your towel on a nearby chair and the shower products on a table. You sat on the further corner of the bed, avoiding sitting near him while you were still frustrated with your current feelings for the caring dumbass who was in your room right now, smelling like fresh squeezed citrus and leather, with his hair sticking to his forehead from how damp it was.
Sam could feel that there was something wrong with you, but he wasn't sure how he should address it. Something just tugged at his chest when he saw you picking on your nails like you did in the car, being so closed off like you used to when you two first met.
"Sam, this is.." Dean introduced you to Sam about one and a half years ago, your father dying on one of the hunts you were involved in. You knew Dean from the past hunts he was in with you and your dad, and when you called him, voice hoarse and heaving he knew something was wrong. When he found out your father had died from saving you, his heart clenched, knowing that you'd be carrying this with you for your whole life, blaming yourself for his death. Dean knew you didn't have other family members present in your life, your mother abandoning you from a young age, leaving you with your father.
He understood how you felt – losing a parent to a monster- well, demon in his case, but he knew the feeling all too well. So, he took you in and you taught the ropes more thoroughly, making Sam teach you what they both knew. It was pretty easy to teach you since you already knew the basics but sometimes Sam felt like something was missing when you listened and paid attention to what he was saying.
Sam noticed how quiet and how you kept to yourself a lot and when you would start opening up, you immediately closed up like a clam. Dean explained the situation to him and Sam understood immediately what he had to do. And from that day, he tried his best to get you to get out of your shell, get you to open up and let your guard down around him. It was hard but worth it. You were worth it.
That's when Sam realized how expressive and passionate a person you were. The way you talked fondly about the things you liked, about random facts you learnt from your father and how fondly you remembered your old man. He felt special somehow, that he made you cope with the death of your father in more healthy ways than keeping emotions buried deep inside you.
"You know... I always think about how closed off you were when we first met," Sam started, not knowing where he was going with this, "you just answered me in grunts or one-word answers. It was kind of frustrating," he chuckled softly, shaking his head before looking at you. He noticed how you looked at him with a confused expression before continuing, "I just– well, I just wanted to say that it was worth it. All of it. Agreeing to teach you how to hunt better, keep you safe and get you to open up to me. It was all worth it."
He moved closer to you and took your hand into his, noticing the new wounds on your fingers. Sam sighed knowing he couldn't stop you from picking on your skin when he wasn't around, so he always carried some band-aids in his pockets. He took two out of his pocket and started gently tending to your fingers. You bit on your cheek, still not understanding why he came to your room.
Were you that obvious, or was Sam just good at reading you? It was probably the latter, you were an open book in front of him. Once he was done tending to your small but painful wounds, you squeezed his hand before looking at him and hesitating to say what you were about to say, "What- I mean, where are you going with this Sam?"
When the question was out in the air, silence followed for a minute but it felt like hours before Sam spoke, "I.. I know you have feelings for me," his voice was gentle and slightly strained.
You were that obvious, huh.
You pulled your hand away from him, feeling as if your skin burned just by being close to him right now. You shouldn't have opened the door. You could've pretended to not hear the knock and just showered. But no, you just had to let Sam in. Sometimes ignorance was really bliss. If you had just known where this conversation was leading. It could've been avoided, but now you had to sit there, your whole body sensitive and senses heightened as you felt his gaze on you. The room felt small, too small.
You couldn't breathe.
Were you really going to have a panic attack just from Sam addressing your growing feelings towards him? It was pathetic, stupid and careless. You should've just kept to yourself. Goddammit, Sam. He could've kept his mouth shut and not continued this conversation.
"Please– please get out," you managed to choke out, standing up abruptly. You couldn't deal with this right now. Not now. Not ever. Sam looked at you with a pained expression, knowing you were closing up and not letting him in. He sat there for a few more seconds before getting up, "I'll– I'll leave you alone for now. Come to our room later for dinner, okay?"
You gave him a curt nod, heading to the bathroom with your things and taking a cold shower. Even when you drowned yourself in the icy water, your whole body felt like it was grimy, sticky and hot. Every pore oozed with insecurity, embarrassment and guilt. After a while you got out, drying your wet hair with your towel and getting dressed. As much as you didn't want to confront your feelings and talk to Sam about it, you had to go to their room for food. It's been a long day and you were starving.
"–So, I had to bargain with that old Vietnamese man to give me three more tempura shrimps for five dollars," Dean was telling Sam and you about what happened when he was out for food, but you weren't paying much attention, stabbing your plastic fork on the stir-fried chicken on your plate. Your eyes stung from how much you cried in the shower, silently hoping that it wasn't obvious.
Knowing Sam, he definitely noticed, nudging your leg under the table to get your attention. You didn't bother looking up before he nudged you harder, accidentally nudging the table too and making Dean notice the tension he was oblivious to earlier.
"Okay, what is going on with you two?" His eyebrows furrowed, making Sam clench his jaw and making you tense up. You weren't ready. Not yet, you begged in your mind still looking down at your half-eaten dinner. The room felt chilly even with the long sleeves you were wearing. Dean knew about your feelings towards Sam and he teased you sometimes about it, but not around him.
The air was thick, and the lump in your throat was preventing you from speaking. Sam sat up straight, clearing his throat before answering Dean, "It's nothing, we're fine, right?"
He looked at you expectantly, even if he knew that it wasn't really okay between you two. As much as you didn't want to look up from your food and just go to your room and sleep, you looked up, glancing at Sam for a fraction of a second before looking at Dean and giving him a small nod. You got up from the table and threw your leftovers in the trash, your appetite was pretty much lost and you just couldn't bear to be around Sam right now.
"I'm going to my room," your voice thick, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat and feeling tears prick your eyes. Sam was about to stop you but before he could, you already closed the door to their room.
"You should talk to her, Sammy.. you started this shit and I don't wanna be shot in the crossfire. I told you it was a bad idea and that you should give her time to process–" Dean looked at his baby brother, drinking a beer while Sam moped on his bed.
"Do you think I don't know that, Dean? I– I just.. I don't wanna give her false hope– or whatever I'm doing.." Sam trailed off, rubbing his hand across his face out of slight frustration towards his brother. As much as he wasn't over Jess' death, he couldn't ignore your feelings towards him. It was painfully obvious and he thought it was... cute. He liked it when you smiled at him or when you clung to him. It was those small things that tugged at his chest, realizing how much he needed to be around you, protect you and want to prevent what happened to Jess from happening to you. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something like that happened to you too.
Just imagining it hurt him physically, his heart squeezing in his chest uneasily. But there he was in his shared motel room with his brother, sulking instead of talking to you. Not seeing you hyper and happy felt wrong, like taking out the sun in the middle of the day or kicking a puppy. He sighed, running his hand through his hair before getting up from his bed and earning a chuckle from Dean.
"Go get'em, Tiger," Sam grunted, flipping Dean off before leaving their room and heading to your room. He really should've thought through what he had to say to you. What happened in your room earlier seemed like he was trying to confront you–which he was–but he didn't mean it maliciously. You probably took it as a sign of rejection and felt horrible. He noticed during dinner how pink your nose was and how puffy your eyes were.
When he was about to knock on your door, you suddenly opened it, flinching slightly when you saw him standing there. Sam looked down at you, smiling awkwardly as he retracted his hand away, "I was about to knock– I mean, can we talk?"
He fumbled with his words, hoping you'd let him in and talk. However, when you stepped out of the room, it confused him and was about to ask before you cut him off, "I'm gonna go get ice.. we can talk in the car."
You grumbled, walking towards the ice machine and getting a scoop of ice into your ice pack. After you filled it up, the two of you headed to the Impala, with you sitting in the passenger seat and Sam sitting in the driver's seat. You held the ice pack on your lap, feeling the coolness of it on your trouser-covered thighs.
"Listen, about what I said in your room–" Sam darted his tongue out, licking his lips before continuing, "It's.. it's not what you think I meant. I wasn't trying to reject your feelings."
You listened as he continued explaining himself, playing with the hem of your sleeve, "I understand the way you feel, I really do, but– but I just can't risk you," he reached out for your hand hesitantly and when you didn't flinch, Sam gently took your hand into his and squeezed. He wanted you to look at him– no, he needed you to. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he did love you in his way, he liked you in the same way you did even if he denied it to himself.
"Look at me, please," he pleaded, his voice filled with need and desperation, "I can't live with myself if you die the same way Jess did. I don't want to lose you too. You mean too much to me."
"You mean too much to me."
Those words hit harder than anything. You looked at Sam, eyes filled with unshed tears, lower lip quivering. Everything felt too surreal, it was like you were watching everything unfold from outside your body.
"I know– I know it's hard right now, and I really suck at this whole feelings stuff, but I wanna make it up to you somehow. I wanna make it work between us, and we'll make it work.. but not right now. I promise we'll work through this together and figure it out in the future-" he wiped a few stray tears with his thumb, his hand cupping your face.
"I just wanna see you smile for me again. I don't want to be the reason you cry or be the reason you're upset," he whispered as you sniffled, still not saying a word and letting him talk his heart out. You were crying while being held by the person you've liked for the past seven months. It felt like a dream to you. All this time you thought Sam wouldn't gain feelings for you and here he was telling you that he wanted to work it out in the future and wanting to be the reason you smiled.
You cleared your throat slightly, moving your hand from the ice pack and onto his hand, making him flinch from how cold your palm was, making you giggle groggily, "You can make it up to me by pranking Dean."
"Deal," he smiled and kissed your forehead, wiping the rest of your tears away.
The next morning, Sam and you went to get some breakfast, deciding that waffles and coffee would be a good choice to eat. The two of you came back snickering when you saw a fuming Dean in the car, unable to move his hands from the wheel. You decided that it was a good idea to put some superglue on the steering wheel. Sam knew that Dean would catch on quickly after, so you two decided to get breakfast first.
"You two are so dead!" He grunted before giving up on trying to get himself free. You got into the passenger seat and Sam went into the back, fist-bumping you, "I liked it better when you two didn't get along," Dean muttered before driving and letting you handle the gearstick while he drove.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
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pls reblog and like :] I'd be happy if you did!!!
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uncaffeinatedbirb · 1 month ago
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Caitlyn Kiramman absolutely folded.
Girlie was in her dictator era and was deadset on hunting down Jinx even if it meant burning Zaun to the ground but one look at her butch lesbian ex and she's down bad again.
Maddie was convincing her and shit but nada. But one look at her oil-spill-hair-wet-rat-looking ex and she's like "okay bby🫶🫶".
Vi called her cupcake and her frontal lobe reseted like it was nothinggggg.
"to save my dad"
"I'm in :>"
no questions asked! she immediately lays out a plan to save Vander and how to incapacitate Ambessa fucking Medarda. and this might be because Caitlyn does not want Vi to lose another parent and that she's also not in favor of how things are turning out under Ambessa's 'guidance' but goddamn
and she proceeds to go save warwick Vander! the "blood thirsty terrible monster" that they went looking for to put down. Vi tells her that's his dad and she's just rolling with it! girlie is fucking insane! she'd seen the damage that Vander did in Stillwater prison. She knows he's capable of tearing her pretty face to mince meat. but she just goes up to him like he's waking a regular 'ol guy because that's Vi's dad. That's his future father-in-law! :3 She's got to save him! The complete trust she has on Vi just makes my heart do somersaults. idk idk i just love them so much its so silly
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saiintvalentiine · 20 days ago
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Summary: Wifies runs a small bakery that has some. . . interesting clientele. A snapshot of a typical day at Wifies's bakery and café.
Notes: written quickly in the span of like 5 hours while at work and mostly unedited, here is some fluff as an apology for all the psychological damage I did the other night :') please forgive any SPAG errors, I'll give it a good clean and cross post to AO3 some other time. With cameos from Ken, Parrot, Egg and Wemmbu, and Wato ! divider
Word count: 1,445
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The bell over the bakery door jingles merrily, and Wifies steps out of the kitchen with a generic greeting on his tongue before he realizes it's Ken. It's been a while since he’d seen Ken. Today, Ken has a long skirt on, so Wifies can't see if the ankle monitor is still on. He has those, sometimes. Wifies usually finds out because he launches directly into complaining about it.
“Wifies!”
“Hi Ken. Why are you here at 5:30 am?”
Wifies woke up at 3 am. Bakeries are early work after all, but Ken’s schedule is a mystery to him.
“I just got out of work actually!”
Ken leans up against the big display next to the counter, dual colored eyes darting around rapidly across all the cookies and cakes. Wifies can already tell what he's going to get, so he grabs a box and starts puzzling it together.
“Ohhh, I want one of those.”
Ken taps the glass over a tray of meat pastelitos. Made of thin, crunchy layers of pastry and stuffed with minced meat, it's exactly the kind of thing Ken would enjoy. They're only sweet enough to make the savory stand out.
“Of course. How many?”
Ken taps his claws on the glass a few times and says, “Three.”
Wifies snorts and grabs a piece of parchment paper. They're easier to handle with his hands and not tongs. He piles three into the box and shuts it, returning to the counter where Ken is already dropping off some diamonds.
“Just the one,” Wifies says, handing Ken the box.
“Shut up,” Ken says, dropping the rest of the diamonds into the tip jar.
He opens the box and pulls a pastelito out. Wifies's bakery is small, shoved into a corner of the block, so there isn't really anywhere to sit. Ken has never really cared about that kind of thing though. He takes a bite out of the pastry— really he chomps through half of it— and crumbs go flying everywhere. He groans.
“So good,” Ken mutters around his mouthful.
“You're dirtying my counter,” Wifies pulls the towel he keeps in his pocket out and wipes the mess away
“No tables!”
“Shut up.”
Ken finishes his pastry and grabs a wad of napkins out of the dispenser at the far end of the counter, cleaning his face and fingers off.
“Wifies, if you leave this town, I'm killing myself,” Ken says serenely, closing the box back up. “Have a good day.”
“You too, Ken.”
Ken leaves with a skip in his step and a pleased curl to his tail. Today's forecast was rain all day, so Wifies isn't expecting much traffic; it was a pleasant surprise to see Ken at all. He has dough that needs proofing, cupcakes to ice, and bread to bake though, so he returns to the kitchen with low expectations. When the bell rings only 30 minutes later, though, he's surprised again.
“Welcome,” Wifies calls out, wiping his hands on his apron. “How can I help you?”
“Hey.”
Parrot shakes his wings out and waves at Wifies. He's got a nasty cut on his jaw and a bruise over his eyebrow.
“Oh, Parrot,” Wifies sighs, opening the gate to get around the counter and get right into Parrot's space.
“It's not that bad!”
Wifies makes sure his hands are dry before turning Parrot's face to one side and looking at the cut. It's clean, which is a good thing, but it's raw and red still.
“It's not that bad,” Parrot repeats, letting Wifies inspect him regardless. “I won!”
“At least you won,” Wifies sighs again and lets go of Parrot, returning to his spot behind the counter. “Winners still don't get discounts.”
Parrot laughs and checks out the display. He crouches and his profile twists up— he must be hurt under his clothes. Wifies isn't sure why Parrot is always getting into scraps, but he wishes that he'd be less injury prone. Parrot taps on the glass.
“A lemon bar, and a sugar cookie too.”
Wifies packs those up for him.
“Have you gotten your coffee machine fixed yet?” Parrot asks, handing over some diamonds.
“Not yet, sorry.”
“Then what kind of tea should I have with the lemon bar?”
Wifies perks up. Parrot never orders tea.
“Earl grey.”
“Then I’ll take some.”
Wifies can’t help how obvious his pleasure is. He loves tea, but it’s not a popular drink since most people just want coffee. He makes himself a cup of earl grey too, in his own mug instead of a takeout cup.
“Do you want honey?”
“Make it however you like it most.”
Wifies adds honey and a bit of cream, stirring it all up and capping it. He hands Parrot his take out cup and sips at his mug with a pleased sigh. Parrot tries his own.
“That’s really good.”
Wifies grins and says, “I know!”
Parrot leaves with a wave, and Wifies hangs out at the counter for a few minutes with his tea. The sky cracks open with rain as he finishes the last dregs in his mug, and with it comes the tumbling bodies of Egg and Wemmbu.
“Hi there you two,” Wifies says, popping into the kitchen to drop his mug off at the sink before coming back out. “Caught by the rain?”
“It’s awful out there!” Egg complains.
Wemmbu silently wrings his hair out over the welcome mat.
“Do you have any quiches?” Egg asks, bouncing on his heels.
“No more quiches!” Wemmbu complains, but Wifies ignores him as he usually does.
Egg is the one who pays, and Egg is the one who’s nice to him, so Egg gets to have as many quiches as he wants.
“I do. I have spinach cheddar, tomato basil, and artichoke parmesan.”
“Ohhhhh, Wifies, two of each please.”
“Coming right up.”
Wemmbu complains loudly as Wifies packs each quiche pair into their own little boxes. Egg doesn’t give Wemmbu the time of day when it comes to what he orders here; it’s obvious Wemmbu makes enough demands that Egg is over him. Sometimes Wifies wonders what the appeal of sticking around Wemmbu is for someone as pleasant as Egg, but he also knows that the purple jacket Egg is wearing is Wemmbu’s, so maybe he does understand.
“Thank you Wifies,” Egg says, big blue eye somehow conveying joy even in its singularity. “See you!”
“Stay safe out there.”
Wemmbu groans and they dash out into the rain. After them, the day remains misty and quiet. A few more people come in and out, but Wifies spends most of his time in the kitchen, working on some custom orders. Usually, bakeries like his close pretty early— most of his profit is made in the morning, and after 3 pm, foot traffic dies quickly. But he’s waiting for his clockwork patron to arrive before closing for the day. At 5 pm, his door bell jingles, and when he reaches the counter, Wato is already looking through the display with a critical eye.
“Hi Wato,” Wifies opens the gate and goes to the door to flip the sign from open to closed.
“Hey Wifies,” Wato’s green tail sways behind them like a metronome. “Anything new today?”
“I do!”
Wato perks up, a puff of bedrock dust floating up from their clothes at the sudden movement. Bedrock has a strange, distinct smell, in that it clears other smells out in its wake. It smells like fog, or void, or absence. Wifies shivers at the way that not-smell fills the air so familiarly, wipes away the sweetness of sugar and warmth of bread that he’s been basking in all day.
Wato sneezes.
“Bless you.”
“Thanks. What did you make?”
“Please hold.”
He’s been storing it in wait for Wato. Once it’s warmed through, he brings it to the counter, held out like a cake.
“A breakfast pot pie. It’s made with sausage, cheese, bacon, potatoes, cream, and a poached egg baked into the top of the pie crust.”
Wato’s tail starts wagging like crazy. It kicks up more bedrock dust, but nothing can take away how proud Wifies is right now. He grabs a plastic fork and hands it off to Wato. Wato wordlessly digs in. Wifies doesn’t usually like staring people down when they eat, finds it weird and invasive, but Wato wears their joy on their face, and right now they look absolutely delighted.
“Wifies, marry me,” Wato says, turning their big green eyes onto Wifies. Wifies laughs loudly. “Stop laughing, marry me now, I can’t love another day without this.”
“You won’t have to,” Wifies assures. “I’m gonna be here for a long, long time.”
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palesweetscherryblossom · 2 months ago
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King Naga Shigaraki x Royalty Reader
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-Naga & Humans have been beefing for years, thanks to competing for the same resources and of course, AFO stoking the flames of that -Eventually, the two simply decided to stay in their own lanes respectively. Only interacting when it came to trade or economic matters. -There was a golden rule, never EVER start anything on either side. To do so would result in a shitstorm. -Shigaraki was crowned prince after being adopted by AFO. He was feared, respected and beloved by his subjects. Tomura crowned himself king after murdering AFO in a battle for power. -Your family is a modestly sized royal family, powerful but not too big. You are the youngest of your brother and sister, aged 20. -Whilst your brothers harbored a resentment towards the naga, you stayed in your own lane. -Then, one of them did something stupid, dreadfully stupid. You eldest brother had made the horrible decision to attempt to raid one of Shigaraki’s villages, only to be met with Tomura’s furious royal court. -Your brother had attempted to steal valuable jewelry and even tried to abduct Lady Himiko as ransom. If it wasn’t for Jin then Toga would’ve probably made minced meat out of his face. -Tomura was outraged that puny arrogant Prince had the audacity to try and attack his people. So, he was going to be a little shit right back -Your parents were swiftly met with an invite to Tomura’s royal court as to discuss this matter. And they were instructed to bring their family. -“What have you done to my land and people is unforgivable. But I’m willing to forgive if you give me something of value in exchange for your pathetic son.” -Your parents were shaken, no doubt that Tomura wouldn’t hesitate to send his angry court after them. -Then, your eldest sister got an idea. The girl had never liked you, for your elegance, beauty and the fact that you were blossoming into a beautiful person made her rage with jealousy. -So, why not pawn you off to the Naga beast and not only get you out of the way but gain some other benefits. Like more land, materials, food and extra military service?
“I have an idea your majesty!” The court turned to your scheming sister, Tomura seemed rather unimpressed. “I humbly offer you my sibling in exchange for our brother.”
-Everyone was shocked, including you. How dare she try to pawn you off?! You opened your mouth to object but were swiftly glared at by your parents and siblings. -Tomura and his court contemplated it, a murmur of intrigued hissing swept across the room before Tomura answered. He would take you as his mate, perhaps they could repair tensions and Kurogiri was nagging him about finding a mate. -Thus, your new life began
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angy-brows · 2 months ago
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Im definetly not hyperfixating on "the cat in yellow" (objectvely fun title) but could you elaborate on what the hell is happening??? Pleaseee
I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to, but I can elaborate a little more on Hastur! (The story itself is a work in progress, so please bear with me. ;A;) Hastur was the first follower on one of my runs (not in this story but just in one of my previous saves) and he was the weirdest one. Like he asked me for minced follower meat and didn't get sick (three times which is fucking WILD.) Hastur is an odd one to say the least - a little too devoted to the Lamb as he tries everything to stay in their good graces, kind but his smile is a little too well practiced to be sincere. He wasn't the same after the Lamb resurrected him from getting cursed, as shown in Hastur's Warning. His devotion to the Lamb to stay in their good graces was more-so out of fear as he realized just how strong his leader was, and he climbed the ranks fast to become a disciple so he could make sure others stayed in line. But after the fall of the Bishops and Narinder's arrival, his obsession starts to take a different turn. Because if you just saw the God you were supposed to worship get dethroned before your eyes, that would fuck you up a little bit. Sorry if that's all an incomprehensible mess - I'm still working on the story and Hastur's character. I play the Nintendo Switch version of the game, so I thought it would be fun to incorporate some of the bugs I encountered in the game into the story. (One of which revolves around one of my other followers - Panamo)
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