#and honestly even more incredible a spot to see it than Long Point

[freepassbound]

Where did you go to see the eclipse?? Was it far? Sand dunes?

I went to Canada, on the north shore of Lake Erie - it was about a three-hour drive (with surprisingly little traffic). Technically speaking, I think it would just be one sand dune, or maybe one small complex of sand dunes - I didn't even know such a place existed along Lake Erie.

It was work. 😅

[loveinhawkins]

Every so often, Eddie will get the bus to Starcourt Mall (because what else is there to do?) and watch the world go by.

It’s not like he’s above a cliché or two—maybe he wants to indulge in being a lone figure within the crowd. Maybe he just feels like wallowing in the aimlessness of it all, damn it.

This is where Wayne would point out that Eddie is exactly the opposite of aimless, what with how he’d stormed into the trailer last month, failed test results in hand and snarled, “Next year. I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em.”

But there’s a long time between now and the new school year starting, the summer stretching out before him like taffy. He’d tried to start his reading list early again, but that’s never done him much good; this time he’d gotten through one chapter of Moby-fucking-Dick before despairing.

So. People-watching at the mall it is.

It’s surprisingly not all that terrible an activity, apart from discovering which teachers are suddenly very passionate about jazzercise—a sight Eddie could’ve blissfully lived the rest of his life without seeing.

There’s also the confirmation that the Starcourt commercial he saw was not a vivid hallucination—that Scoops Ahoy is, in fact, real.

And so are the ridiculous sailor outfits.

Well, I’ll be damned, Eddie thinks.

Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are an incredibly unlikely duo. It’s like the universe abandoned all sense, spun a wheel and paired them up just for the fun of it.

When he joins the line for ice-cream, Eddie initially thinks he’ll find the whole thing laughable: seeing people forced to work together when usually the laws of the universe (and Hawkins High) would keep them as far apart as possible.

But then he discovers that the ice-cream parlor is packed, one hell of a bottleneck forming right up at the counter, where folks are waiting for a seemingly never-ending amount of floats to be poured.

It takes a while for Eddie to near the front of the line; enough time passes that he honestly feels kind of bad for even taking up a spot, for adding to the workload that has Robin shouting herself hoarse with every, “Next please!”

He strongly considers just leaving, but he hesitates for a moment too long, and unintentionally meets eyes with…

“Hi,” Steve says, pleasantly enough, if a little distracted as he prods at the soda machine. He smiles apologetically. “Be with you in a sec.”

Eddie almost wants to tell him you know it’s me, right? He doesn’t.

It’s not that he expects Steve to be mean, exactly; it’s just that he’s getting more than familiar with the whole post graduation routine. It’s like there’s a secret page in folks’ yearbooks, instructing them to look at anyone still attached to high school with either indifference or embarrassment—or both.

Steve must not have got the memo.

“Next!”

Robin beckons Eddie forward with a sweeping arm gesture, looks somewhere behind him and sighs in relief, puffing out her cheeks.

“Oh, thank God. You stopped the tide.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder; sure enough, he’s the last person left to order.

“Don’t think I’ve got that power, Buckley.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

Eddie almost laughs. There was a rumour in his first attempt at senior year that he could curse people: it only came about because he ominously whispered some Pig Latin he’d once overheard Robin herself use during History, and Molly Pritchard crossed herself in horror.

“I’ll have a vanilla cup.”

“Ooh,” Robin says dryly, “adventurous.”

“Nothing wrong with a classic,” Eddie says.

Robin smirks as she rings him up. They don’t know each other that well, but there’s admittedly something nice in the distant familiarity they share; at the very least, she’s not gonna add to any potential awfulness when school starts again.

While Robin hands over his change, Steve is filling up a cup—Eddie would say he’s uncharacteristically quiet, except for the fact that he doesn’t actually know what truly is characteristic of Steve Harrington.

Plus he’s stuck on the fact that he only paid for one scoop, but the amount of ice-cream Steve manages to cram in is almost double that.

And he does this ridiculous little twirly thing with the scooper before he even reaches for the tray of vanilla.

Eddie tells himself he notices just because the move is so stupid; it’s definitely not because he’s noticing Steve’s hands in general. It’s just… eyes get drawn to movement. That’s all.

“Syrup?” Steve asks, nodding his head at the dispensers.

“Sure,” Eddie says. “Strawberry.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Oh, don’t do that, man. Get it with butterscotch.”

Robin’s eyes rise to the heavens, as if some longstanding argument has begun once again.

“And why should I do that, Harrington?” Eddie says.

“Because,” Steve says, like he’s patiently explaining that two plus two equals four, “butterscotch is better. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Robin parrots mockingly. She closes the register drawer and says, “I’m taking my break, Popeye. Try not to judge the customers too hard.”

Eddie’s pretty sure he hears Steve mutter under his breath as she leaves, “Seriously? You’re worse than me.”

His cup of ice-cream is under hostage, apparently. Steve still hasn’t pressed down on the damn syrup pump.

“This your usual sales technique?” Eddie says. “Browbeating the customers?”

“Only the lucky ones,” Steve returns mildly.

Eddie scoffs. “Fine. Gimme the damn butterscotch then.”

“Knew you’d come to your senses,” Steve says.

He hands the cup over without any more quips; just as he’s done with the syrup, a large family swoops in with multiple sundae orders.

Eddie eats the ice-cream while waiting for the bus back home. He grudgingly has to admit that the butterscotch isn’t bad.

But that’s not really what’s bugging him.

He has to know if it’s a fluke—if maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington only deigned to talk to him because he was, like… delirious or something. Maybe the flood of demanding customers scrambled his brain.

Of course, when Eddie goes back to the mall, it’s purely to test his theory. Strictly observational—educational, even. Like… summer school. (Take that, O’Donnell.)

The bus drops them off a little bit before the mall actually opens, but they’re allowed inside anyway. Eddie inwardly cringes at the sight of grown adults tapping persistently on the windows of still closed stores. Jesus Christ, they’re worse than zombies.

Scoops Ahoy isn’t open yet either; Eddie’s soon witness to a very stressed looking Steve striding over to unlock the place.

He flits in and out of view for a while, taking mops round to the back, filling up the jars of toppings.

Eddie actually considers heading over to Waldenbooks to check if it’s open (it’s not like he’s coming here for one store in particular, obviously), but then he hears metal clacking against the tiles.

When he looks back at Scoops Ahoy, he spots a set of keys on the ground right at the entrance, Steve nowhere in sight.

Goddamn it. He’s gonna have to be a Good Samaritan. Ugh.

Eddie briefly looks up to the ceiling as if he can condemn the ways of the universe from here. Then he sighs, picks up the keys and steps into the store.

“Harrington, you dropped these—”

“Shit,” comes Steve’s voice from the back, followed by an almighty clatter.

Eddie hesitates before his curiosity inevitably wins out.

He goes behind the register, through the door and finds the aftermath of complete disaster: Steve standing in front of an entire vat of ice-cream that’s been dropped onto the floor. It’s splattered all up his legs, cookies and cream clinging to the hairs.

Holy shit, stop thinking about his leg hair, Eddie thinks.

Up until this point in time, he’d believed it was physically impossible to look anything other than comical in that stupid sailor outfit.

(Well. Almost.)

But right now Steve looks absolutely tragic. Like he’s a crew member on the Titanic levels of tragic, and he’s about to deliver the news that there’s simply no more lifeboats.

Steve meets Eddie’s gaze.

“That was limited edition,” he says pitifully.

They both look down at the floor.

“Well,” Eddie says. “It definitely is now. Still, uh, what’s the phrase? No use crying over spilled… ice-cream.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna cry over it,” Steve says. “I’m gonna scream.” For a moment he looks murderous. “Robin’s not coming in.”

“Is she sick?”

Steve snorts. “Sick my ass. No, she’s keeping The Hawk in business—gonna see a movie about an ice-cream parlor, something like that.”

“An ice-cream parlor,” Eddie echoes. “Um. Are you sure she didn’t just make it up?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s one of those foreign—never mind.”

He cuts himself off, lifts up one foot, as if he’s become aware of his predicament all over again.

“I was fine with her ditching, she can do whatever; it’s not like we have managers checking up on us. But I forgot a huge delivery was coming, and it’s Saturday so it’s gonna be crazy, so I’m not gonna have time to put all of it in the freezer or check the stock chart, so it’s all just gonna become fucking soup, Jesus, maybe I should just throw everything on the floor and—”

“I could help,” Eddie interrupts, because apparently a little alien has burrowed into his brain and now he just says things.

Steve stares at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” Eddie says. He wishes his brain-invading alien an immediate death. “Bad idea, just—”

“No, I mean why would you do that? Dude, it’s not like I can pay you or—”

“I don’t really have plans,” Eddie says—oh great, the alien hasn’t died! “Uh, you can pay me with, like, a name tag?” What? Stop talking. “Like a souvenir?” Stop! “Oh sorry,” Steve says, as if on automatic pilot. He pulls at his shirt. “We don’t have—our names are stitched on.”

I was kidding about the name tag. Actually, maybe you should just murder me instead.

By some miracle, Eddie’s expression must somehow still look fairly normal because Steve continues, deadly serious, “Munson. Are you sure?”

This is the time to back out—

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Look, man, it’s no big deal. I can clean this up and—”

A bell starts ringing from the front, being struck over and over again in the most obnoxious way possible.

Something in Steve’s eyes flickers, a shift from panic into planning mode, and Eddie has the sudden bizarre feeling that this is what the basketball team saw whenever a crisis timeout was called.

“You sure you’re okay if I leave you back here?” Steve asks, and the gravity with which he says it threatens to send Eddie into hysterics—Christ, you’d think they were in the goddamn trenches.

“Think I’ll survive,” Eddie says. “I’m basically cleaning up, and putting everything into the freezer?”

Steve nods. “And, um, a stock check too, if that’s okay? There’s a chart pinned up, you just gotta count the flavours and put, like, tally marks next to—”

“Oh my God, not tally marks,” Eddie drawls. “The horror.”

Steve huffs. “I was just—”

The bell rings even more insistently.

“Uh, think you’re needed on the front line,” Eddie says.

He nearly chokes on his own spit when Steve turns to just march right on out there.

“Harrington, wait! Your—your legs,” he says weakly.

Steve has the audacity to look puzzled. “What about them?”

They’re very long.

Eddie gestures silently to the ice-cream on the floor, then attempts a vague hovering motion in the direction of Steve’s legs.

Steve’s eyes go wide in realisation. His cheeks turn slightly red. “Oh! Yeah, um, thanks. Um. I’ll just…”

He disappears into the world’s tiniest restroom, comes back free of cookies and cream before heading out to the front.

Well, Eddie thinks to the mop he finds, this is definitely a situation.

It’s not the worst way he’s spent a few hours, apart from having to listen to a Sailor’s Hornpipe on loop through the speakers (he briefly wonders how Robin and Steve stay sane). He cleans up, gets the rest of the delivery into the freezer, even jots down some tally marks, wonder of wonders.

Steve will occasionally slide back the shutters and pop his head in, passing over a soda.

“Employee perks,” he says, then has to hurriedly retreat to keep serving.

Eddie keeps waiting for the stiltedness to set in, but it seems Steve’s far too busy for there to be any awkwardness.

At midday the shutter slides back again and Steve says, “Hey, can you do me one last thing, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again, I swear.”

“Harrington, you’ve technically never asked me for anything. Gimme the mission.”

Turns out the mission is just to use some employee only coupons at Burger King so Steve can take his lunch.

Eddie returns to Scoops Ahoy with two burgers to find that Steve’s strategically placed a pile of chairs and wet floor signs at the threshold to deter people from entering.

There’s also a hand-drawn sign on top of one of the chairs: Out for Lunch. Underneath, there’s a horrendously bad drawing of a ship on choppy waves.

Eddie tries very hard to not find it endearing.

He gives Steve a burger, hops onto the table in the back and starts eating his own.

A quarter of the way through, he realises that he could leave now—he’s done everything Steve’s asked, and Steve’s already said he can manage the remaining shift on his own now that the delivery’s been put away.

Huh. Well, he’s already gone to all the effort of sitting here…

Steve’s quiet for most of his lunch. Eddie doesn’t mind; he enjoys his free food, comes up with a half-baked campaign idea before discarding it, counts every tile in the room…

Looks over.

Steve’s sat with one leg hunched up to his chest, a book resting on his knee—the cover’s folded over the back as he reads, the spine broken. Eddie doesn’t know why on earth it’s attractive, but it is; he feels like some mooning middle schooler, entranced by the way their stupid crush eats spaghetti or some bullshit like that.

But then again, there’s always been an easy grace to Steve Harrington.

A beeping noise; Steve checks his wristwatch with a sigh.

“Ugh.”

He leaves the book on the table, at just the right angle for Eddie to read the title: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

“Is it good?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m only a couple chapters in, so…” Steve shrugs. “Honestly, it’s the most I’ve read since starting high school.”

And Eddie gets that: the senior years he’s suffered through have left him each time with a brain like a wrung out sponge, not even having the energy for Tolkien.

God. At this rate he’s never gonna read for fun ever again.

His face must do something because Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, a little hesitant, “Hey, I’m sorry you never, uh… made it through, y’know? You—you were so close, man.” Eddie doesn’t bother wasting time on being pissed that Steve knows some of the details: ‘test results’ and ‘confidentiality’ don’t exactly go together in Hawkins High.

“Yeah, uh. Thanks. Here’s hoping third time’s the charm.”

Steve claps his shoulder. “You’ll do it, it was just tough this year. Like, I scraped through, trust me.”

Eddie snorts—he would literally kill to have a handful of Steve’s grades.

“Think my definition of ‘scraped through’ is different to yours.”

He helps Steve disassemble the mountain of chairs, and now it really is obvious that he could just leave; he only has to take a few steps, and then he’s out of there.

But he pauses.

The store is still empty.

Eddie shuffles back from the doorway. “Ice-cream for the road?”

Steve laughs. “Sure. Least I can do.”

He doesn’t ask Eddie what he wants, just serves a vanilla cup with butterscotch syrup.

Eddie suddenly feels himself fighting a smile. “Think you’ve got an agenda, man.”

“Nope. Just giving you the superior choice, Munson.”

Then Steve picks up an empty cup and pours more butterscotch into it, nothing else. He knocks it back like a shot. “Gross,” Eddie says.

Steve flashes him a syrup-streaked grin.

It’s so… juvenile.

If it wasn’t for the fact that they’re in a mall, Eddie would almost think that he’d gone back a few years, made an unexpected temporary friend that goofed off with him in the back of the class.

He finishes his ice-cream as more people flock to the counter; in what seems like no time at all, Steve’s ushering Eddie out, pulling down the security grille.

It feels a bit like a soap bubble has burst. Like the bell’s unexpectedly rung at the end of last period, in a class he was actually enjoying, against all odds.

Steve does say, quite sincerely, “Thanks, Munson. You didn’t have to… you really saved my ass.”

Eddie’s about to clumsily work his way through some reply about how it was nothing, but then they really do have to go, because some stern-faced security guard’s staring like he might vaporise them.

It’s just one day, Eddie thinks. A… what’s-it-called. An anomaly.

But he goes back to the mall the next afternoon. He doesn’t bother to make up an excuse even in his own head.

Scoops Ahoy is somehow even more packed this time—Steve’s serving up samples while Robin’s back at the register, and when she sees Eddie coming, she points at the vanilla, mouths, “The classic?”

He chuckles, nods. “How was your movie, Buckley?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she says serenely. “I was very sick.” She coughs delicately.

“Praying for your miraculous recovery.”

He gets vanilla with butterscotch syrup (just because Robin’s the closest to that particular dispenser, that’s all).

It’s so busy that once Robin’s finished at the register, she starts filling orders alongside Steve. When Eddie picks up his cup, they barely look at him, surrounded by other cups and plastic bowls laid out for ice-cream.

Figures. Eddie knows it’s not personal. Just. Soap bubble’s burst, and all that.

He’s almost out the store when he hears a whistle.

“Hey, Munson! Go long!”

“Fuck off, no,” Eddie says automatically, a response drilled into him from many a compulsory Phys Ed class.

But he turns, just in time to see Steve throw something at him. He catches it—it’s plastic, round—somehow manages to keep a hold of his ice-cream, too.

Steve gives a brief thumbs up, before he’s back to scooping. He still finds time to do that stupid twirl move again.

Once outside, Eddie opens up his hand. Snorts.

It’s a shitty white badge, chipped in several places. His name’s scrawled on it in red marker, a cartoony anchor in the upper right corner.

On the bus home, Eddie mulls over the thought of flicking through a couple chapters of The Hobbit, something like that. No pressure, no notes—no imagining the year ahead, a teacher looming over his shoulder. Just for fun.

There’s plenty of time.

He puts his souvenir in his pocket, takes another spoonful of ice-cream.

And he has to admit that butterscotch is pretty damn good.

[so0thsayer]

random lost boys HCs !!! (x gn!reader)

I have to get these out of my system. They have been marinating for far too long man omg. Also, this is also my first post so................ lets pray i did this right🙏🙏 also i didnt really proof read lol

let me know if you wanna see more stuff like this :3

WARNINGS: mentions of scars, drugs, biting, scratching. slightly suggestive (nothing too crazy)

David: 𖦹 I'd kill for you.

𖦹 loves to leave marks and love bites anywhere he can sink his teeth. His favourite places to mark would probably be the back of your neck, between your shoulder blades and the inside of your thighs. He understands the importance of the marks not being visible to the public - so he likes to sink his fangs in places that most people cant see. BUT- he'd def leave hickeys in very obvious spots.

𖦹 Wants everyone to know you're his. Not afraid to get handsy in public if you let him.

𖦹 enjoys a good book every now and then, but only when your head is on his lap.

𖦹 typa guy to guide you around with his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your waist/ shoulders 24/7.

𖦹 Your seat in the cave is right next to his

Paul: 𖦹 He’s very touchy, but times that by 1000 when he gets his lips wrapped around that stick of holy grass (yes i am a paul does drugs sometimes believer). He would want to feel the heat of your skin, even scratching at you sometimes just to have a piece of you under his nails.

𖦹 Not scared to show affection in public. He has no shame.

𖦹 CONSTANT flirting

𖦹 Has a collection of stolen goods. Even stuff that he would never use. If you show an interest in a trinket he has stolen, he'll give it to you whether you want it or not.

𖦹 music buff. loves sharing his takes on popular songs and artists. He likes to bring you to the boardwalk stage to listen to some live music, usually sitting on the outer skirts of the crowd.

𖦹 has a bunch of stupid pet/nicknames for you. (dollface, sugar, sweetness, etc.)

Marko: 𖦹 hovers over you a lot. Always getting up and going places with you without a question, even if you dont ask him to come. He just really enjoys your company, never shy of interesting conversations.

𖦹 This man's love language is playful teasing, dont try to tell me otherwise !!! Not even in a mean way- just always striving to make you laugh in his own way.

"You got something there" He points at your shirt. As you look down, he flicks your nose. "Gotcha." He chuckles.

𖦹 the best at cooking out of the four of them, often taking over the cook pot to make your favourite meals.

𖦹 he'd bark at someone if they tried to get with you LMAO

𖦹 one of his favourite ways to pass the time with you is hitting the up the boardwalk clothes stores. He loves picking out new clothes for you, letting you know how good you look in them. "Damn, babe."

𖦹 having you over his shoulder gives him a constant ego boost.

Dwayne: 𖦹 I'd die for you.

𖦹 definitely love marks, scars etc. idk, he just seems like the kinda guy who would. He loves the way they feel under his fingers as he caresses his lover’s skin. He reads the stories they tell like brail. And for stretch marks, he loves the way they glisten in the light as they fade, and he loves the way they make an indent, rather than a bump for once. Perhaps he'd also like leaving a few marks of his own, like a bite mark or two, but he also doesn’t want to hurt you at the same time.

𖦹 cuddling with this man would be incredible.

𖦹 loves it when you play with his beautiful hair :3 (has a hard time asking for you to tho- he feels a great warmth when you do it without him asking). honestly just loves being touched by you in general

𖦹 he isn’t so much a go out of his way to smother you kinda guy, but he will gladly hug you tightly if you hug him. His favourite ways to touch you are to wrap his arm around his waist, putting his arm over your shoulder while you’re sitting with each other and stroking your hair and skin while you lay your head on his lap. He just loves to feel your warmth on his cold finger tips.

𖦹 100000000x more affectionate in private dude

𖦹 the moment you ask him for something he’s on it. “Hey, could you get me-“ and he’s already handing it to you. He loves helping you in every way possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed my first post !! :3 I know it's kinda short but I couldnt really find anything else to add😭 i am stressed

[magicalbats]

Flesh-Devouring

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18,177

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, public spanking, some very light fingering, over the knee spanking, paddling with a hairbrush, thigh grinding

A/N: Yes, this is a follow up to my Wriothesley Kinktober spanking fic. Did I have any business at all working on this instead of the next Kinktober prompt? NO 🙈 I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t stop thinking about this reader and Wriothesley, y’all are gonna need to forgive me for my lapse in judgment

⭐

You really had no idea why you were entertaining this. After everything he’d put you through the last time you’d met, Wriothesley certainly didn’t deserve even so much as a polite, cursory letter of correspondence back, let alone the right to actually occupy the same space as you, and yet … here you were, wearing a dress that was nice but not too nice, standing in front of a cafe that was neither overly fancy or overly pedestrian, but something in between. You’d been adamant about picking the venue and, to your surprise, he’d easily conceded that power over to you. Further testing the waters, you’d then put your foot down about getting to choose the time you would meet at and, even more confounding, he’d given in to that demand as well. 

It was all incredibly suspicious of him, to say the very least, and you’d very nearly backed out at the last minute for fear that it was some sort of nefarious trick but the ever growing pile of missives from the Duke of Meropide had stared at you accusingly from the desk in your room until you’d finally rushed out the door just to escape them. That you’d found yourself here, at the exact meeting spot and a few minutes early, was only a coincidence, surely. You didn’t actually want to see him after he’d humiliated and abused you so terribly, but since you were already at the cafe then perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stick around long enough to hear him out. Or so you tried to tell yourself, anyway. 

There was no denying your anxious nerves though, and you flutteringly smooth your hands over your front to iron out imaginary wrinkles that weren’t actually there. You probably should have worn something a bit more practical. Less dressy. If he got the wrong idea about you (as if he just as likely hadn’t already) and he assumed your goal today was to seduce him rather than talk about program options for inmates at the prison you were going to scream. Just really let him have it. He would have deserved it, honestly, given that less than stellar first time meeting, but the least he could do was - -

“There you are.” 

The voice is accompanied by the familiar press of a heavy palm along your waist, and you jerk back so hard you nearly give yourself whiplash. Wide eyed, you tip your head back, back, back to finally meet Wriothesley’s questioning eyes where they tower high above you. 

“Do not touch me!” You hiss, impulsively slapping his hand off you to make his brows lift in surprise. 

“Sorry I’m late?” He tries, which you would have been rather inclined to give him points for under better circumstances as none of the clocks in the vicinity had chimed the hour yet. It may not have been by much, but he wasn’t running behind despite his willingness to take the hit. 

But better circumstances would not have found you flushing profusely at just the sight of him and trying desperately to conceal it to no avail. And the spark ignited in you at the brief touch of his fingers was another matter entirely, but you make a concerted effort not to think about that as you offer up a prim little sniff. “Your tardiness is of no concern to me, your grace, but even you must know touching women inappropriately is highly frowned upon in Fontaine. I'm sure it must be easy to forget your manners when you spend so much time at the bottom of the ocean … so I’ll do my best to remind you. I trust I won’t have to call for the Gardes today?” 

You can’t quite keep the smug look off your face now, positively riding on the high of public immunity,  but it quickly fades when Wriothesley not only meets your challenging stare head on but he even allows the corner of his mouth to pull in an infuriatingly enigmatic smirk. “Not to worry, miss. I have every intention of behaving myself so long as my lovely companion in her pretty little dress does the same.” 

Giving an angry, impotent jerk when a fresh wave of fluster creeps up your neck to settle along your cheeks, you narrow your eyes up at him in warning. But he just shuffles close enough to truly loom over you now and it’s all you can do to keep your attention locked on his face instead of averting your gaze in a clear sign of defeat. You can’t quite seem to find your voice no matter how hard you attempt to locate it, though. 

Sedately bending down to your level, Wriothesley brings his face close to yours and lowers the tone of his voice when he speaks again. “I take it your last lesson is still fresh enough in your mind that you won’t need a refresher today? We certainly don’t want your nice clothes getting dirtied, do we …?” 

You choke on an incomprehensible flurry of things you wanted to say to him, but the double edged quality of your public immunity quickly makes itself apparent. Sure, he couldn’t — wouldn’t treat you as badly as he had behind the closed doors of his office when there were so many prying eyes all around you here, but that also meant you couldn’t kick up the same kind of fit or risk causing a major scene. You’d thought you were playing this smart by agreeing to meet him only on your terms but it clearly went both ways on this neutral playing field, and you have to make a concerted effort to calm yourself instead of taking the bait. 

“Indeed, your grace.” You relent as mildly toned as you can manage. “I will make every effort to remain cordial.”

“Excellent.” Nodding once, Wriothesley reaches out with a deliberate slowness — like he was dealing with a skittish cat — and your skin prickles defensively in response. But you still allow him to gently take your arm with nothing more than a twitch to show for it and that seems to please him a great deal, given the now amicable tone of his voice. “Let’s find a table and get started then. I’m sure there are a lot of things you want to talk about.” 

That was an understatement of the highest order given how many biting remarks were just at the tip of your tongue, waiting to be unleashed upon him. This was neither the time nor the place for it though, so you let him guide you around the side of the building to a quaint little patio where he proceeds to steer you straight into an unoccupied seat at the most secluded table in the far corner. It surprises you a great deal that he not only takes the time to pull your chair out but even slides it in behind you, and the fact your heart won’t stop hammering at the interior of your ribcage because of it just makes it all the more perplexing. 

Given his previous behavior Wriothesley was in absolutely no position to be acting like some kind of gentleman, and you were even less inclined to fall for it. 

Moving around to the adjacent chair, the duke claims his own seat across from you where he takes a moment to get comfortably situated before looking at you expectantly. “Alright. Where shall we begin?” 

You can’t help the suspicion that flashes across your mind. He was even willing to put the ball in your court like this? What exactly was he up to? 

“Well,” Speaking slowly, warily, you open the worn leather carry case you’d decorously sat on your lap and withdraw a hand-typed sheet of parchment paper. “I thought perhaps we could go over our other options, since you seem so sure my initial proposal won’t work. There should still be other rehabilitation methods available to us if you’ll just hear me out and - -“

His hand abruptly comes up, reaching across the table to accept the paper, and you just stare at those outstretched fingers like they were tightly coiled, hissing vipers. You couldn’t make sense of this. He actually wanted to see it? 

“May I?” Wriothesley prompts when you neither move nor speak, giving those blocky digits a little wriggle to further indicate what he wanted. Blinking owlishly, you mechanically hand the sheet off to him and watch as he reclines back in his chair to look it over. 

This really was just so … strange. His interest in what you’d had to say at your last meeting had been cursory at best and he’d summarily dismissed all the paperwork you’d brought with you after giving it nothing more than a brief glance. But now he seems to be taking his time with it, attentively scanning the page from top to bottom, and he even hums at occasional intervals as if in acknowledgement. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought it was an entirely different person sitting across from you now. 

“I see,” He says at length. “Some of these suggestions just aren’t viable with the way Meropide internally functions, but I think a few of them could easily be tweaked for implementation.” 

“… r - really?” 

Lowering the paper, Wriothesley once again fixes you with that largely impassive look that you just can’t quite get a good read on. “Sure. For example, I think there’s merit in giving the inmates an opportunity to develop new or existing skills that could be helpful in a potential reintegration process. It doesn’t force them to do anything or set an expectation, but it still gives them the option.” 

A long beat passes in numb silence and then you find yourself sitting up a little straighter, unable to keep the pleased smile off your face now even though you try very hard to keep it at bay. “Oh. Well. I’m glad you think so.” 

He catches you off guard with an unexpectedly genuine smile, the sapphires in his eyes dimly twinkling with what you think must be mischief. “Don’t get too excited yet. There’s still some ironing out to be done, but you did a good job taking what I said the last time and reframing it to better meet the needs of the inmates. I’m pleased to know our little chat served its purpose.” 

And just like that he’s got you huffing and puffing again, irritably digging into your bag so you wouldn’t have to look at that smug face of his any longer. He was beyond infuriating, easily the most contemptible man you’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, and yet … you just can’t seem to stop smiling. You were undeniably happy that he seemed to be taking you seriously this time and had even praised you for your efforts to revamp the proposal to better suit his liking. Even if he did insist on sneaking in those smarmy jabs every once in a while it couldn’t truly take away from what felt like a victory on your part. 

You spend the next two hours discussing everything with him over a seemingly never ending supply of tea and diminutive finger sandwiches he’d insisted on ordering for the two of you to share even when you’d likewise insisted you weren’t at all peckish. Wriothesley was very strange indeed and you weren’t sure if you would go so far as to call it chivalry, at least not in any polite sense, but he did seem to have a soft spot for his inmates. That warmed you to his presence slightly, helped you relax and find a common ground with him that made you feel much better about potentially working with him in the future. It seemed like as long as both of you stayed focused on the topic of lifestyle enrichment for the prisoners you could get along. 

But of course it was not meant to last, and the first real hiccup you run into is when he insists on paying for your half of the tab. You make a valiant effort not to cause a scene in front of the poor waiter who nervously shifts his eyes between you and the duke, but he doesn’t even have the grace to look at you when he shoots down your insistence that you could pay for yourself. Your temper starts to spike at the dismissive wave of his hand, and you give into the urge to glare at him across the table. 

“My lord, your generosity is appreciated but not needed. I assure you I won’t go bankrupt paying for my drink and the sandwiches I ate.” Not giving him a chance to respond, you jerk your attention up at the young man making a discrete effort to shuffle away from the table. “Please split the bill for us.”

“No, just one tab will do.” Wriothesley cuts in, sending you a slow look of warning that just leaves you bristling even more. “It would be remiss of me to make a young lady pay for the lunch I invited her to. I’m sure our young friend here would agree.” 

The waiter nods his head in agreement when the duke inclines his chin towards him and, much to your sinking dread, he promptly pivots as if to walk away. Impulsively, you lurch half out of your seat to snag his arm and stop him, surprising a yelp out of the poor boy. 

“Hold on a minute! Don’t I have a say in this? If I want to pay for it I should be able to or isn’t that — isn’t it just the same as misogyny or something?” 

The boy looks appropriately horrified. “O - oh?” 

“Miss,” Wriothesley intones sharply, and the edge in his voice immediately sends a violent shudder racing up your spine. It was a bit too similar to the way he’d talked to you back in his office for you to associate it with anything other than getting dragged over his knee and your cheeks burn furiously even as you clutch at the waiter's arm even more tightly. Thrumming with nerves, you turn your head to find him pinning you with a very unamused frown. “I suggest you let him go and sit back down. There’s no reason to make such a fuss over lunch. I’ll pay for it, and that’s the end of it.” 

You share a quick glance with the boy whose expression mirrors your own look of flustered uncertainty. “But - but I can pay for it - -“ 

“Sit down. Now.” 

Quickly doing just that, you neatly fold your hands in your lap with your eyes kept firmly downcast so you could avoid having to look at him. You weren’t even sure if you could meet his gaze at that moment when it felt like you were moments away from vibrating right through the very fabric of time and space if you quaked any harder but … but it was kind of hard not to be affected by it when only three weeks had gone by since the last time you’d gotten on his bad side. Your ass had only just finished recovering from its first encounter with his hand and you didn’t want to experience it again, if you could help it. 

Clearly relieved, the waiter beats a hasty retreat from the table and the two of you sit there in terse silence for a painfully long, drawn out moment in which your heart threatens to slam right out of your chest. Then, at length, Wriothesley finally draws a clipped breath. “I thought you said you were going to behave yourself.” 

You swallow. Hard. “And I thought you were going to respect me as an autonomous person this go around.”

A pregnant pause. “Is that what your problem is? You think I’m, what? Being a controlling chauvinist or something?” 

If your face were to get any hotter you probably could have fried an egg on it. “Is that not exactly how you’ve acted thus far, your grace? Gentlemen in polite society don’t usually treat women like children.” 

“Oh, I’d beg to differ.”

You snap your head up with a viscous look — but the waiter returns, giving you a cautiously wide breadth as he walks over to Wriothesley’s side to present him with the check. Those deep, deep blue eyes steadily regard you for another moment longer before finally dragging away from you to look at the bill. Left with no other choice you just sit there, stewing in your anger while he amicably apologizes to the young man and passes him a handful of mora plus a little extra which he tells him to keep for himself. The harangued lad is nothing but appreciative, and they exchange a few more words of thanks between them while your blood pressure just continues to climb and climb, and climb. 

You couldn’t believe him! To treat you as he had in the privacy of his office was one thing but this was something else entirely! The very last thing you’d wanted was to find yourself indebted to the Duke of Meropide in any capacity, least of all when your understanding with him was already so tentative and fragile. You’d thought you could work with him as long as you kept things professional and limited to the greater goal both of you clearly shared, but evidently that was not meant to be. Even after the horrible way he’d humiliated you the last time you’d still been willing to partner with him for the sake of a greater good and this was how he chose to reward your willingness to put aside the disrespect you’d already suffered at his hands once before? 

Why did he not understand how consistently infantilizing and insensitive his treatment towards you was? 

Right on the verge of erupting, you wait until he turns to look at you again once the waiter has scurried off with a final, nervous glance in your direction, and you pull yourself up to your full height with a stilted breath. “Thank you for your generous kindness today, your grace. I’m leaving.” 

His brows lift at your sudden proclamation, head tipping back slightly when you find your feet in a quick rush. “You’re serious?” 

“Very much so.” It takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to scream at him as you carelessly stuff your paperwork back inside your bag, barely stopping long enough to secure the latch in place before stomping away from the table. The scrape of his chair against the cobblestone is soon followed by the heavy thump of his boots catching up to you alarmingly fast. You don’t think he’s hurrying after you or anything, his legs are simply much too long for him to need to, but that doesn’t quite stop your skin from crawling with a sudden rush of goosebumps. You had to get away from him. 

Quickly, before he tried another stunt like the last time. 

“I’m not interested in hearing anything further, I’m afraid.” You call back, positively hating the way your voice warbles slightly when you pick up your pace. 

You were on the main road now and almost at a full blown sprint when a heavy hand abruptly snags your arm, pulling you back with a frightened squawk. Eyes wide and just a pinch more fearful than you would have liked, you jerk your attention up to look at him. 

“Just hold your horses,” He murmurs, gentle yet insistent in the way he tugs you around to stand in front of him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good read on you at this point so I understand why you’re acting like this, but I assure you it’s nothing to get so upset about. I didn’t pay for lunch because I don’t think you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself. I just did it because it was the right thing to do, and I wanted to do it. That’s all.” 

“Why?” You whisper, unable to find the strength to speak any louder than that when you were looking up at him like this. “Why did you feel so inclined even after I told you I didn’t want that? Is it because you’re a big, strong man and I’m just a weak woman you get to push around?” 

An odd look crosses his face, but you have no idea what to make of it. You can never seem to get a good grasp on his body language no matter how closely you study it. “That is not what I think at all, miss. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders but sometimes you really let your emotions get the better of you. And before you say it, no, I don’t mean it like that. If you were a man I’d say the exact same thing. You do realize how carried away you get, don’t you?” 

“Carried away?” You echo him, disbelief coloring your voice. “You - you are positively incorrigible, do you know that? I’m not sure where you get off acting like I don’t have perfectly good reason to be wary of you when you’ve done nothing but torture me with your presence every time we’ve met!” 

“Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not what I get off on.” 

Heat races up your neck to settle in your face, making you choke and sputter indignantly until you finally manage to find your voice again. “I think I have a pretty good idea what you like, and you should be ashamed of yourself!” You snap with an accompanying tug on your captured arm. “Let me go. I’ve had more than my fill of you for one day.” 

“No, I don’t think I will.” 

“Wha — unhand me this instant, you damned brute! Don’t make me call for the Gardes. I already told you I would and I wasn’t bluffing!” 

Easily holding you in place when you try to scuttle away, Wriothesley bends to bring his mouth close to your ear and the sudden, hot puff of breath against your skin instantly makes you freeze in place. “Unless you want me to give you a good swat right here in the middle of the street, I’d suggest you calm down.” 

You absolutely hate the way you shudder fiercely in his grasp, fighting back a whimper at the lingering spectral ache that tingles across your backside. You couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t afford to let him get the upper hand here, not now when you had the safety of public immunity on your side. You still had the advantage in this situation, even if it didn’t really feel like it. “You can’t do that … you’ll be arrested.” 

“Is that so?” He drawls, quite clearly unconcerned at the prospect, and you forcibly swallow the nerves threatening to choke you. 

“I’ll file a report …” 

“Perhaps you should.” 

Noising a breathless, frightened little animal sound, you shoot him a deeply frazzled look but his expression remains as impassive as ever. What the hell was he even thinking? “You’re not immune from the law.” You try again, quaking in his hold. “Neither your status nor your … nor your job description will give you impunity. You’ll have to stand before the honorary Iudex and explain yourself to him.” 

“Ah, well. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Ignoring your startled sound of confusion, Wriothesley straightens up again and gives your arm a gentle nudge. “Come. Before I take you home there’s something I need to tend to first.” 

“Wha —“ Reeling, you stumble and almost trip when he shifts into motion, dragging you along for the first few steps until you get your jelly filled legs under control and reluctantly fall in line with him. It’s not like you really had much choice in the matter. “Are you completely out of your mind? There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near my house! I can take care of myself just fine, your grace!” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But I’m not asking.” 

The noise that comes out of you sounds suspiciously like the whistle of a tea kettle moments before it reaches boiling point. You give your arm a fitful yank as discreetly as you can manage when you realize there are a few people staring over at the two of you with curious, somehow accusatory looks, but he won’t let you go and it quickly becomes apparent that, short of flinging yourself onto the ground like a fussy toddler, you were just going to have to go along with it. He was sorely mistaken if he thought you were going to lead him right to where you lived though, and nothing he said was going to change that. You’d sooner throw yourself into the vast waters of Fontaine without a life preserver before you ever even entertained the notion! 

And that is precisely how you hit the second hiccup of the day. 

Wriothesley guides you by the arm down the road, across a side street, up a short lane and then right into a cramped little alley that stops at a deadend on the far side. Your heart positively flatlines when you see it and you desperately try to dig your heels in to stop the forward motion as he pulls you straight towards it but there’s no stopping him. He’s too big, too strong, and all you can do is choke on a frightened little sound when he steps right up to the wall and then turns, expertly juggling your arm from the iron hold of one hand into the other. The static electricity that shoots through you at the first creeping suspicion of what he planned to do makes your skin prickle with a fresh wave of horror, and you immediately dance up on your toes as if to escape the swing of his palm. 

“Wait, wait, wait! You can’t do this. Not here. We’re in public! If someone sees — no, even if no one sees it isn’t that still a bit much? Don’t you think you’re taking this too far, your grace? I mean, I thought you said this wasn’t what gets you off, right?” You offer up a nervous, borderline hysterical laugh as if to ease some of the tension in the cramped alley. “Besides, didn’t you say you had something to tend to? An errand, isn’t it? You need to do something - something elsewhere, don’t you? If it’s groceries you need to pick up, I’d be happy to accompany you …” 

He silently regards you for a prolonged, incredibly nerve wracking moment before slowly leaning forward and you can’t quite stop the terrified squeak that bursts out of you when he grabs a much too tight, pinching handful of your backside. Blocky fingers dig into soft flesh hard enough to make you hiss and rock up in a blithe attempt to escape it but he just follows you with his hand, giving the meat of your behind a sharp jostle as he turns to press his mouth to your hair. 

“What I need to tend to is this bratty ass of yours. I’m not entirely sure why you act this way yet but we’ll get to the bottom of it soon enough. I’m going to give you some incentive now, and then take you home so I can finish teaching you how to behave and you’re going to stand there and take it like a big girl, aren’t you?” 

You sway unsteadily in his hold, thoughtlessly dropping your bag so you can lift your uncaptured arm to brace a numb hand against the wall. What were you even supposed to say to that? And never mind the fast pumping adrenaline of fear and remembered pain suddenly pumping through your system, why on earth were you starting to feel tingly all over as if … almost as if you were excited?

That couldn’t be, though. It couldn’t. 

There was simply no way he’d unlocked something so perverse and dangerously immoral in you the last time he decided to play this nasty game. You didn’t like it — gods, you barely even liked him! You didn’t, didn't, didn’t, didn’t - - 

“Little miss,” He abruptly intones, snapping you back to reality with a sharp, haggard gasp. “When I ask you a question I expect an answer.” 

“Y - yes, sir.” You blurt, dull surprise washing over you at your own obedience. What was happening to you? 

“That’s better, but what are you telling me ‘yes’ to?” 

You blink owlishly at the wall. Couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away from it, like you were in a trance. “I … I’ll stand here. Like a good girl.”

Drawing a slow, stilted breath, Wriothesley finally lets up on your ass in favor of rubbing over the fleshy swell through the now wrinkled back of your dress. His palm is broad and rough even through his fingerless gloves, and you sensitively shiver at the contact. “You know that means no screaming. No crying. No carrying on like a child, as if you haven’t earned a much needed correction for yourself carrying on the way you have. You wouldn’t want someone to come running just to find you getting your butt spanked, would you?”

“… no, sir.” 

“Good.” His hand abruptly retreats only to come cracking back down with a blinding swat! and you jerk forward at the impact, sputtering on a half realized shriek. “Today we’ll be working on your ability to accept what you're given and show gratitude for it. I want you to thank me this time instead of counting, is that understood?” 

Still wincing at the lingering sting of that first hit, you draw a slow, shuddering breath and lean your forehead against the wall. You couldn’t believe this was really happening again any more than you could believe your willing compliance on the matter. Surely there had to be something very wrong with you to be acting this way.  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” 

Swat! 

“Eek! Thank you, sir …” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, giving your arm a brief tug to pull you closer to his side as he shifts to truly loom over you now. You whimper when you feel his hand cock back, preparing for the next swing, but it doesn’t immediately come. Instead, his mild tone drifts over you again like a warm, prickling mist. “Spread your legs a little bit for me and lean into the wall. Come on. I know it’s hard to do right now but it’ll be much easier on you this way. I’ve got you … that’s it. Just like that. You’re already being so good for me now.” A sudden snort of laughter from him makes you twitch. “I had a feeling this was exactly what you’d need as soon as you walked into my office. Glad to see I was right about that.” 

Screwing your eyes shut against that soft praise, you anxiously shudder and squirm in place when every single nerve ending in your body seems to vibrate with the lingering anticipation of when the next hit would come. What a tortuous feeling. You didn’t like it, you didn’t. 

“Thank you, sir …” 

Swat! 

You groan at not only the burning sting but also the way your ass jiggles from the force of the hit, somehow humiliating you even further and driving the hurt home. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out why he’d wanted you to bend forward. The crease of your sit spot already felt like it was on fire from just that one slap and he hadn’t been able to strike it when you were holding yourself straight and stiff as a board. Now, though, he’s free to pepper the tender area with quick, rapid fire strikes to leave you trembling against the wall, gasping each time his hand makes contact. 

“Ow! Thank you, sir … eek! Ooh - oh! Nnghnn, thank you, sir! Nghn! T - thank you, sir …” 

“Excellent. You’ve really taken to this like a duck to water, haven’t you?” He drawls, still bringing his palm down across your shuddering ass again and again, and again. Completely at ease and frustratingly collected about the whole thing, as if this wasn’t even affecting him at all. “Tell me, little miss. Have you received many spankings before?” 

“N - no, sir … ahhn! Thank you, sir! Yeow! Ow, ow, ow, thank you, sir!” 

Wriothesley hums in consideration, barely heard over the intense pounding in your ears. “That’s interesting. I didn’t think so, of course, but,” Swat! “It’s still of a certain interest to me. You’re surprisingly obedient for someone with so much attitude.” Swat! “You wouldn’t happen to be enjoying this, would you?” 

You go ramrod stiff, eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, but then the next slap comes and you lurch with a wounded grunt. Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton now as you ever so slowly turn your head against the wall to look in the opposite direction so he couldn’t see your face. You weren’t exactly sure what kind of expression you were making when you felt so hot and flustered, and jittery, but you were certain you’d wither away to nothing if he looked directly at you right now. 

“O - of course not, don’t be ridiculous! I hate it almost as much as I hate you!” 

Wriothesley barks out a sudden laugh. “Is that so? You know there’s a way to check, don’t you?” 

Stiffening, you go so utterly still you think you’ve forgotten how to breathe. In fact, you’re certain you have, given the way your heart sputters and skips a harrowing series of beats. It makes your lungs constrict painfully tight and, at last, when you start to grow dizzy, you force yourself to draw a thick, suffocating inhale. He couldn’t be serious … 

“What are you talking about?” He couldn't be serious …

“I’m sure I don’t have to explain it to you.” He couldn’t be serious … “Shall I check?” He couldn’t be serious … “But I hope you know if I find out you’re lying you’ll be in even more trouble.” He couldn’t be serious …

He could not be serious! 

His calloused fingers slipping under the back of your dress snap you out of your horrified trance with all the lurching force of a sack of bricks and you gasp — no, you heave so hard it feels like your soul is slipping right out of your throat. You jerk upright so suddenly and so fast you actually stumble and start to collapse in a tangle of noodly legs but the hand gripping your arm just bodily hauls you back up again to shove you flush against the wall. You think you would have screamed at that very moment, damn the consequences, but you can’t quite seem to pull enough oxygen into your lungs to accomplish it. All you can do is blubber hysterically as he pins you flat by pressing into the back of your shoulder, applying enough force to bring you up on your tip toes, while his other hand indelicately bullies its way up between your legs to cup your pussy through the thin layer of your panties. 

You jolt at the contact and go still again, panting excessively for as short as that brief struggle had lasted, and Wriothesley noises a quiet sound before carefully curling his fingers back. The blunt tips of them press into you, stiltedly rubbing over the lips of your cunt with slow, indescribably heavy passes that make you tremble wildly. You can’t quite seem to get a hold on it no matter how hard you try to stop it though, your teeth clenching tight enough to hurt when he twists his hand so he can slip those long digits into the leg hole of your underwear. A flood of tears pricks at your eyes when he finds your slit again and starts to press in, but he doesn’t have to go very far before finding sticky slick waiting for him. 

“I knew it.” He announces without much aplomb or intonation to clue you in on his thoughts. Archons, what an insufferable man. 

“Are you satisfied?” You practically spit, as furious with him as you were with yourself. 

“Quite. And you? Are you satisfied?” His tone drops an octave lower to accompany the slow, teasing glide of his fingers through your cunt, tracing from the back up to the front while pointedly avoiding any real pleasure inducing spots along the way. It makes you quietly seethe and hiss, straining against the hand keeping you against the wall, but it’s no use. He’s got you trapped. 

“What do I possibly have to be satisfied about?” 

“Well, you’ve earned yourself another paddling, for starters.” 

Your entire body seizes at that and, noising an incoherent blubber, you finally twist your head back around to look up at him with big, wet eyes. “W - wait, you don’t mean that - -“ 

“I do. I’m very sincere, in fact. Not only have you lied to me but you even continued to lie after I gave you a chance to make a better decision. You have to know that’s not acceptable, don’t you?” 

Blatant confusion marches across your face and then camps there, drawing your mouth into a warbling frown. Seeing this, Wriothesley allows his own to curl in a small, taunting little smirk that just sets every single alarm bell in your head off all at once. Whatever he was about to say, you weren’t going to like it … 

“You didn’t really think I had no idea, did you? Come on. I had you spread you out over my lap without anything covering this cute pussy of yours. Just because I was mainly focused on your ass, that doesn’t mean I was oblivious to everything else going on at the time.” 

Try as you might, you just couldn’t make any sense of it. “But … but - -“

“But?”

You swallow. Very, very hard. “But … but you — you didn’t say anything?” 

“Was I supposed to?” 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it! I swear, you are absolutely, positively, irredeemably - -“

“Yes, yes, you hate me. I’m sure we’ve already covered that.” Breathing out a stiff sigh, Wriothesley finally relents and withdraws his fingers from your cunt. You can’t quite manage to bite back the whimper that rises in your throat at the loss, but he pays it little mind and instead busies himself with casually gathering up the back of your dress. “If you want the truth of it, I very strongly considered acting on it then too. I thought about it a lot, actually, but then I regretted not doing anything besides rubbing cream on your sore bottom and sending you on your way. Why do you think I mailed off that first letter to you the very next day? And the one after that when you didn’t respond, and the one after that?” 

“You - you were hoping for this to happen?” You squeak, trying in vain to twist away when he hikes your skirt up around your waist and cool air wafts against the hot burn throbbing across your ass. 

Whimpering, you try to reach back with your free hand to yank it back down or at least cover yourself from anyone that might be walking past the open lip of the alley in the seemingly far distance, but you don’t quite make it that far. Suddenly releasing his hold on your shoulder, Wriothesley quickly snakes it around your middle and locks your arm to your side in the process, too fast for you to properly react. A flood of protests erupt from your mouth as he tucks you in tight against him so he can hold you in place just like that no matter how hard you squirm. He then takes his time casually juggling the bulk of your dress into his other hand before reaching back down to grasp your panties which he slowly pulls up on to make the fabric ride up and press into you. Potent, swimming embarrassment makes you feel dizzy with it while he nudges the cotton until the swell of both cheeks slips out from the bottom to leave you vulnerable and exposed. The skin feels hot and splintery against the air, and you grimace when he smooths his palm over it to really rub it in. 

“I wouldn’t say I was hoping for this specific situation to happen,” He drawls in that perpetually unapologetic tone of his. “But I did want to see you again, yes. I’d thought I might try to woo you and make up for how our first meeting went in the process but you’re certainly a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Not that I’m disappointed, mind you. This suits me just as well too.” 

You waver at that, whimpering softly at the implication. “Is that the only reason, your grace?” 

Pausing, Wriothesley just lets his massive hand rest across your ass for a long moment while you try to blink back the sudden onslaught of tears making your eyes turn misty. At length, he draws a carefully controlled breath. “No. That’s not the only reason. We can talk about it more in depth later but … I really would like a chance to woo you, if you’d be kind enough to let me.” 

You very nearly burst out in hysterical laughter at that. What an absurd thing to say when he had you pinned and immobile against his side, the back of your dress crudely hiked around your waist and your underwear meanly pulled up to expose your red bottom to all of Fontaine. It was ludicrous and insane, and unthinkable, and preposterous, and — and - - 

He didn’t really mean that … did he? 

An abrupt, halfhearted swat to the meat of your ass startles you back to reality with a soft yelp. “Don’t go drifting off on me now, little miss. You still need to show me you know how to give appreciation for the things I give you. I didn’t forget that last one.” 

Your cheeks burn somehow even hotter at that reminder. You had indeed let it slip your mind and you were quite tempted to tell him exactly where he could shove his thanks but you were a bit too caught up in the pitter patter skipping across your chest to truly fight it. His methods were the very definition of crazy but you couldn’t exactly deny that they were working. Damn him. 

Breathing deep to calm yourself, you let it out with a slow, shuddering exhale. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t forget again.”

Wriothesley presses his mouth to your hair and murmurs a quiet, “good girl” that makes you go cross eyed from how intensely you shake because of it. You feel the shift of his arm but you don’t even have the presence of mind to ask him to wait. 

Swat! Right across the bare strip of your ass. 

“Nnghn! T - thank you, sir!” Swat! “Thank you, sir! Oh - oooh, nnghah! Thank you, sir!” Swat! “Hahhn! Ahh! Thank you, sir … nghn! Thank you, sir …” Swat! 

Wheezing, you hang limply in his ironclad hold now, only having the strength left to jerk at the impact of his hand and twitch from time to time as the prickling heat gradually spreads and strengthens over your defenseless backside. Same as the last time, Wriothesley falls into an easy, steady rhythm that alternates between both cheeks, pausing only long enough for you to speak and then immediately cracking down on the opposite side. It doesn’t take long for your bottom to start throbbing in hot, attention grabbing pulses that make you feel woozy with whatever trance comes over you whenever he strikes you like this. You don’t understand it — aren’t even really sure if you wanted to understand it at this point — but the Duke of Meropide is true to his word, and he maintains his unfaltering hold on you even when your legs slowly turn into limp, shuddering noodles under you. 

Over and over, and over again, he spanks you until the world seems to spin around you at a nauseating pace, but your voice keeps you grounded and present in the moment. You couldn’t escape the blistering sting of his hand in any capacity, not mentally and certainly not physically, so the only thing you can do is simply accept it. Not just the punishing bite of his palm striking the same tender spot repeatedly but him, specifically, too. The greater point of this lesson was not lost on you but you did almost wish it could have been accomplished a different way. Perhaps if you weren’t always so stubborn …

“Ohh! T - thank you, sir!” You seethe, squirming against the mind numbing sting, but the next strike doesn’t come though. So lost under the intoxicating medley of endorphins and adrenaline, you actually start to wonder if you’d actually thanked him out loud or if you’d only done so in your head. Panting raggedly, you swallow down a mouthful of air and then try again. “Thank you, sir …” 

“Don’t worry, I heard you the first time.” He murmurs, the note of humor in his voice inspiring a fresh shudder in your aching body when he gives your hip an approving pat. “You did well, little miss. No screaming, no crying … how’s your bottom feel?” 

Rather cruelly, Wriothesley drags his palm over the throbbing swell of your ass, and you tense up in his hold with a sharp hiss. “It feels wonderful, sir.” 

He actually laughs at that — a real, genuine laugh that leaves you reeling and so surprised you can only blink in wide eyed disbelief as he carefully untangles himself from you so he can get you settled on your feet again. “That’s what I like to hear. You’re never going to lose that sharp tongue, are you?” He looks at you steadily, big hands cradling your hips to give you another moment longer to recover without needing to worry about falling over, and you just look back at him in perplexed silence. 

Slowly bringing your arm up, you wipe at the evidence of tears on your hot face, and maybe just a tiny little bit of snot too. You would be glad for a wet rag when you got home. “I'm afraid not.” 

“Good. I like a girl with sass.” His smile edges into sly mischief territory, pinning you with a clear look of challenge. “I’ll never run out of excuses to keep punishing you so long as you keep that up.” 

Sniffing primly, as if you hadn’t just gotten your ass beat, you offer him a flat, unamused scowl. “Yes, well, I really wish you hadn’t pulled on my underwear like that. So unnecessary.” With a click of your tongue, you start to reach back with every intention of tugging them back down into place, but he reaches out to snag your arm before you can follow through. 

“No, leave it.” 

You sputter indignantly. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I said leave it like that. It’ll give you something to think about on the way home every time your dress brushes against your sore bottom, and keep you in suspense for the second part of your punishment.” 

“… you were serious?” 

“Terribly.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You could not believe you were doing this. 

You absolutely, positively could not believe you were doing this! 

Stealing a quick, surreptitious glance over your shoulder, you find Wriothesley right where you left him just a second ago. Standing at the foot of the stairs that lead into your small, cramped little flat in the city, one hand holding your leather bag at his side and the other expectantly braced on his hip while he patiently waited for you to get it into gear and unlock the door. A fresh rush of nervous anxiety crashes into you all at once, and you whip back around to fiddle with the key some more. 

Dear archons above, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this! 

Not only had you blithely accepted your fate and taken him straight to your home like a good, obedient pet, but you’d even been naive enough to find yourself somewhat excited to have him there on the way over. Even the constant throbbing that encompassed your poor bottom was not enough to distract from the eager pitter patter you’d felt in your chest but now that it was really happening and the full weight of the situation was bearing down upon you, you were suddenly consumed by a smothering sense of fear. What exactly was he going to do to you once he got you inside? Was he really planning on spanking you some more? Paddling you? What if he expected you to have sex with him after that brief exchange back in the alley? 

Oh, bless the seven, what kind of horrible mistake had you made? 

“Do you need any help?” He calls behind you, almost startling you enough to make you drop your key. 

“No, no! Everything’s under control! Nothing to be concerned about!” You titter nervously and fumble to get the key inserted into the lock but your shaking hands keep missing and it felt like you were right on the brink of a full blown panic attack. Far be it that you were in any position to actually understand anything about this contemptible man but you were really going to have to make an effort to figure out what exactly it was that came over you every time you crossed paths with him, because now that it was faded to a mere afterthought you were a jittery mess. 

It was almost like … almost like he was drugging you, the effects so calming and soothing that your mind couldnt help but recede to a narrow pinpoint that consisted entirely of Wriothesley, his hands on you and the pain making your body sing. But he’d never had a chance to slip you anything. You’d declined having any tea in his office, and you hadn’t left your drink alone even once back at the cafe. So then what the hell was it? 

He’s suddenly leaning over you, beefy chest brushing against your shoulder, and you jolt so hard you really do drop your key this time. “Eek! What are you doing?” 

Sending you a slow, mild look of questioning, Wriothesley sedately bends down to retrieve it from your feet and then straightens back up to his full, towering height again. “I’m helping you. Relax. You’re going to pop a blood vessel one day, getting yourself so worked up.” 

Ignoring your indignant sputtering, he reaches around you to soundly insert the key into the lock on the first try, giving it a good turn to make the inner mechanism give way. He turns back to you with a vaguely pleased smile and you narrow your eyes at him in warning, holding out your hand to accept the key which he deposits neatly into your palm. You close your fist around it as he gestures you in first and, nose in the air, you huff your way inside with as much dignity as you can muster. 

The sound of his heavy boots thumping after you and the subsequent swing, click and turning lock of the door quickly sobers you though, and you fretfully glance around the main room. You weren’t exactly slovenly but it would have been nice to have some warning that he would be coming over beforehand so you could have cleaned. Your morning coffee cup was still sitting out on the table and - - 

“Nice place.” 

You subtly twitch at the sound of his voice. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you’re used to, your grace.” 

Noising a noncommittal sound, Wriothesley wanders further into the flat, depositing your bag onto the table when he passes by it and then he pauses at the threshold of the small kitchen where he turns to look back at you. “May I?” 

“Knock yourself out.” You murmur, crossing your arms somewhat defensively. He ducks his head in a brief nod and then promptly disappears into the next room where you can hear him walking around what sounds like the whole perimeter. Brow quirked, you curiously trail after him only to find the Duke of Meropide himself inspecting the contents of your icebox. “Are you looking for something?” 

“I wanted to see if you had something that could be used as a substitute salve for your bottom. Cryo slime condensate and some mint should work well enough in a pinch, but …” 

He trails off in thought and you can’t quite help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Didn’t come prepared then, I take it?” 

He closes the lid on the icebox and sends you a meaningful look across the room. “Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake again.” 

This time you do laugh. “Awfully presumptuous of you to assume there will even be a next time, don’t you think?” 

Wriothesley hums a sound that could mean any number of things or nothing at all, giving the kitchen a final look over before breezing right past you back out into the main room. Bewildered, you quickly trail after him hot on his heel. 

“I mean, just look at the situation! Don’t you think this is all a little odd from my perspective? You said you wanted to woo me but you’ve certainly done a banger job of that so far and more to the point — wait!” 

You scramble forward, hands desperately reaching out to grab him when you realize he’s turning straight into the bathroom, but you’re a fraction of a second too late. Rounding the doorway with your heart lodged in your throat, you come face to face with a scene straight from your worst nightmares. A handful of your brassieres, some plain and cotton, others lacy and ruffled, hanging out to dry over the clawfoot tub, right out in the open. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of the panties hanging from the dainty drying rack right next to them!

“You fiend! Don’t look!” You scramble to get around him so you can reach up and frantically wrench a handful of your unmentionables loose, clutching them protectively to your chest, but the sound of his laughter gives you pause. You can practically feel steam coming out of your ears as you turn your head to glare daggers at him, knowing he would’ve dropped dead on the spot if only looks could kill. 

“Cute.” Is all he says before turning on his heel and strolling right back out, leaving you standing there in your gaping confusion. 

“What the — hey! Wait a second!” 

Very nearly tripping over your own feet, you lurch after him but this, too, is much too late to stop. You watch him swing your bedroom door open like he owned the place, disappearing inside without a second thought, and you come dashing in behind him just a second later. 

Quickly inserting yourself between him and the rest of the room, you furiously throw your lingerie down on the floor and put your hands on your hips. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” You demand, breathing a little heavier than you would’ve liked. “You’re a guest here, not the damned landlord! You can’t just waltz in here and start showing yourself around! What are you even looking for? I don’t have anything of worth if you’re thinking about trying to rob me!” 

A bemused look settles across his face, sapphire eyes dancing with obvious mirth. “You know better than that.” 

“At this point I’m not so sure anymore, your grace … somehow every time we meet I just find myself caught up in a whirlwind and I can’t make any sense of it. I don’t understand you.” 

The last part is barely more than a whisper but his expression softens again, in as much as it ever does. With a deliberate slowness, like he was dealing with a terribly skittish animal, Wriothesley carefully steps closer and brings his arms up as if to pull you in against him. You twitch, instinctively tensing up, but you grudgingly allow him to gather you up against the firm wall of his body. It reminds you of the last time in his office and your mildly sore behind gives a muted throb at the lingering memory even as you breathe out a terse breath. Slowly, you start to relax against him. He certainly did smell nice … 

“Forgive my poor manners. I did not mean to invade your privacy, little miss.” He tells you softly, matching the quiet intimacy of the bedroom and pulling you further under his damnable spell. “I only wanted to see how you lived so I could better understand you. You’re not the easiest person to get a read on either, you know.” 

You want to prickle defensively at that — know you should — but you can’t quite seem to find the strength to be upset anymore. Hesitantly, you bring your hands up to clutch at his waistcoat with hands that feel incredibly small against him. Dainty, even. “Did you mean it?” 

“Hm?” His burly arms give you a lingering squeeze, one of his hands stiltedly rubbing over your back, and it makes you shudder against him. 

“What you said earlier … about wanting to woo me?” 

“Ah. You’re still thinking about that.” Chuckling quietly, Wriothesley shifts against you and you feel him tip his head back, speaking up at the ceiling now. “I did. I may be a no good scoundrel and a brute, but I wouldn’t tell you something like that if I didn’t mean it. I think you’re a lovely young lady, even if you are a pushy, hardheaded brat half the time. A pretty face and the smarts to match … a cute butt,” His hand slides lower, curling over the swell of your bottom to give it a taunting pinch, making you whimper at the reignited ache in the skin. “And a cute pussy, too. You’re the whole package as far as I can tell. Though, I do suppose we’ve done things a bit out of order, haven’t we?” 

You shake your head, face buried in the lower half of his thick chest. “You are certainly a scoundrel, you’re right about that.” 

Dragging his hand back up, Wriothesley takes your hips and starts to gently nudge you back. “Come, let’s sit.” 

You almost fall for it, so caught up in the hazy shroud that seems to befall you every single time he touches you, but then you abruptly remember what’s behind you. The bed. The one and only chair in the bedroom was in front of the desk, on the opposite wall. Your heart instantly slams into overdrive and you jerk back in his hold with a ragged gasp, hands coming up to shove at him. “No!” 

To your great relief he actually stops at the near hysterical edge in your voice, giving you a funny look even as he cautiously releases his hold on you so he can lift his arms in surrender. “I’m sorry. Just calm down. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

You would’ve liked to breathe out a sigh, glad that he was, for whatever reason, taking you seriously now, but you were a bit too jittery with nerves to draw a full breath for that. Instead, you just offer up a tittering laugh and try to wave it off. “Of course nothings wrong. It’s fine. Really. I just don’t want to sit right now, that’s all. Still so many things to do!” 

It feels like your face is on fire as you quickly duck around him to make a beeline for the door so you can get out of here and put some much needed space between the two of you, but Wriothesley stops you with a gentle yet firm hand on your elbow. Whimpering softly, you make a valiant attempt to twist out of his hold but as usual his grip on you is as good as iron and you soon find yourself pulled right back around to face him. 

“That was a rather big reaction for it being nothing. I’m sure I could figure it out for myself in due time, but I’d greatly appreciate you being honest with me now so I don’t make the same mistake again going forward.”

“It’s nothing …” 

Wriothesley outright scoffs at that. “Pardon my language, little miss, but that’s bullshit. I’ve never heard you sound like that before, not even when I took that brush to your behind in my office. If I thought you were simply being dramatic or acting up I wouldn’t humor it but that’s not what’s going on here … is it?”

You don’t immediately answer, not quite sure what to say or how to say it, and at length he draws an infinitely patient breath. 

“I could probably guess,” He says almost thoughtfully, like he already had a sneaking suspicion. “Is it the bed? Are you scared of being in here alone with me?” 

Keeping your eyes downcast and firmly locked on the toes of your shoes, you give a slow nod in response. Archons, was he actually going to make you say it out loud  … 

“I don’t understand why, though. I’ve had plenty of chances to force myself on you if that was what I planned to do.” 

“I’m a virgin.” 

A visible startle dances down his arm. You screw your eyes shut, not quite sure what you expected him to say or do with that information and, for a horribly long beat, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with it either. The long stretch of silence that follows your admittance is static charged and heavy. Cloyingly thick. Suffocating — though that very well could have just been from where your lungs were constricting painfully tight, braced for the pin to drop. You almost wished you were just being dramatic or bratty, and the thought of being stretched out underneath his massive body didn’t scare you quite so much. 

Finally, eventually, Wriothesley looses a slow puff of air. “Thank you for telling me. Although I do wish you’d said something sooner, before I … well, it doesn’t matter, I suppose. All I did was touch you back in that alley, but I hope you realize how risky that could have been.” 

“I’m sorry, sir …” It’s all you can think to say. 

With a mild click of his tongue, he gently tugs you into him again, and this time you can’t stamp down the urge to fling your hands up and cling to him. “There isn’t anything for you to apologize to me for.” He murmurs, comfortingly rubbing across your back while the other hand slides up to cradle the curve of your skull. “Luckily I’m not actually that much of a brute and I’m capable of controlling myself. I won’t deny that I strongly considered sliding my fingers inside you back there but I decided to wait until we got to your place because …” 

He trails off, sounding ever so slightly ruffled, and you shift against him in your surprise. “Because why?” 

“Because I wasn’t sure if you were going to be a screamer or not.” 

Your stomach gives a sudden lurch at the implication and you nuzzle your face deeper into his body, whimpering softly at the way your pussy flutters in unmistakable interest. You were undoubtedly curious, keen even, but … despite its potency that eager gushing excitement wasn’t quite enough to dispel your concerns on the matter. He was just so big, you could only imagine whatever was hiding in his pants must be rather large too. Never mind the fact you’d only just met the guy not that long ago, how were you supposed to rationalize the size difference here? 

You’re still trying to work that out in your cotton stuffed mind when, eventually, Wriothesley gives you a final, reassuring pat and then carefully moves to extricate you from himself. “Alright. Come with me. Let’s talk in the other room then. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want.” 

Unable to stop it, you shoot him a sharp, unamused look but he just gives you that small, secretive smile as he guides you through the door which he reaches back to close behind himself with a soft click of finality. You were loath to admit it but you did feel marginally better having the bed closed off away from the both of you. It seemed less dangerous, somehow. 

“Nothing like that.” He amends, steering you over to the table in the main room where he tugs out a chair and drops himself into it. Much to your squawking surprise, however, he then half lifts, half pulls you on top of him to sit on his thigh and you waver nervously on your perch. You weren’t used to being manhandled in such a way — or any way, for that matter — but he steadies you with a firm hand, taking a moment to make sure you’re situated comfortably before leveling you with an unexpectedly sincere look. “Let’s make a deal. We’ll continue on as we have been, and nothing changes. I’d still like to work with you on your proposals for the inmates, because I think you have a good head on your shoulders and your heart is generally in the right place, even if it is at times a bit misguided. I’d also like to keep seeing you, if you’ll permit it. I won’t force myself on you and we’ll take it at your pace, whatever you’re comfortable with. You just need to be honest with me about these things, and I think we’ll do just fine.” 

Slowly, your gaze starts to wander in thought, but Wriothesley reaches up to take your chin and turn you back to look at him again. 

“I’m serious, little miss. You can still be a brat and talk back to me all you want, and I’ll just keep putting you in your place. I can correct you as many times as you need me to. But you have to be upfront about this. I’m not a mind reader, and I can’t know what you’re feeling unless you tell me. Do you understand?” 

You search his face for a moment, admittedly taken aback by the weight in his gaze. It was … a lot. But Wriothesley, as a person, was also a lot. You couldn’t read him, didn’t understand him, could barely stand to be in the same room as him, so … why then did you suddenly want him to kiss you so badly? Surely it was just that muddied, intoxicating daze that fell over you every time he touched you influencing your judgment, right? 

Right? 

“Yes, your grace. I understand.” 

He relaxes somewhat, some of the tension draining from his broad shoulders as he gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “Excellent. Are you ready for the rest of your lesson now?” 

Sending him a wary look, you decide to test the waters some. You were always good at that. “What if I tell you I’m not comfortable having you spank me like a child every time the thought strikes your fancy?” 

“Then I’d tell you that’s too bad. I’ve already seen for myself just how quickly you get yourself in order with the right incentive, and I’m also well aware that you secretly like it. More importantly, however, I know you need it. You felt good after the last time, didn’t you?” 

You scoff at that and turn on his lap to affix your gaze to literally anything other than him. “I wouldn’t describe barely being able to sit down on the aquabus just to get back to the city as feeling good. I was miserable for days!” 

“You deserved it.” He teases you, his tone taking on a playful edge as he brings his hand up to capture your chin again. You fight it though, twisting on his thigh and leaning as far back as you can manage without falling right off, but Wriothesley is persistent and he just follows after you, easily brushing off the smack of your hand when you try to slap him away. Finally, he manages to successfully get those long fingers around your jaw and he pulls you close until your nose comes to a stop just a scant few millimeters from his. “Come on, just look at me for a moment. Rather than physically, how did you feel mentally? Refreshed, right? Like you’d been flushed clean and filled back up again. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say like you’d been disassembled and then put back together.” 

“That’s not an inaccurate way to put it …” You relent at last, though not without a fussy huff. “But I still don’t know if I’d call that feeling good, your grace. I don’t … I’m not sure what I felt or why I liked it but —“ Abruptly choking on what you’re saying, you look into the steady blue of his eyes with yours wide and round as deeply felt embarrassment creeps into your face. Why in the world did you say that? “W - will you kiss me, my lord?” 

“Hmm. Do you want a kiss before or after your spanking?” 

“That’s not - -“ 

“I am not so easily distracted, little miss. You would do well to remember that.” Softly, Wriothesley soothes the blunt, calloused pad of his thumb over your cheek, still just looking at you. Still waiting on an answer. “Shall I make the decision for you?” 

Eyes flashing dangerously, you rear back to escape his hold and, surprisingly, he lets you go. Emboldened, you primly find your feet and he lets you do that too. You feel strangely victorious as you half turn away from him, hating the jittery, almost eager excitement that starts to course through you now. How shameful to react in such a way when you knew what was going to happen to you and there would be no escaping it. Had you always been such a masochist? 

“Perhaps I no longer want a kiss from his grace if that is how he’s going to be about it. I’ll accept my punishment but you needn’t worry yourself with silly things like kisses or hugs, or anything of the sort.” 

Snorting a quiet laugh, Wriothesley leans back in the chair with a soft creak. “Alright. Go get me one of your hairbrushes.” You give a little jerk and whip your head around to outright gape at him, but he just pins you with that usual smile. “A sturdy one. Nothing flimsy, or I’ll add twenty more on top of what you’re already getting.” 

You open your mouth to protest, think better of it and slowly press your lips into a thin line instead. Hands clenching into tight fists at your sides, you storm off to the bathroom where you dig around inside the cupboard for a prolonged moment before eventually locating a broad backed wooden brush you no longer used which looked relatively similar to the one he’d had in his office. With your heart in your throat, you take it back to him and he accepts it with a small murmur of thanks. 

“Anything else, your grace?” 

“I’m glad you asked, actually.” He pauses to set the brush aside on the table and then looks at you again. “Take off your panties, please.” 

Your brows shoot up in stark surprise, making him chuckle. 

“Relax. I have no intention of doing anything untoward with you. I just want to see if you’ll willingly take them off and crawl across my lap or if I’ll have to drag you again. It’s hard, isn’t it? Knowing what’s coming but still putting yourself in that position anyway. I wonder how wet you’re getting just thinking about it.” 

“Y - you just said - -“

“I said I wouldn’t do anything untoward. Not that I wouldn’t tease you a little bit.” 

The sly, mischievous twinkle in his eye irritates you a great deal, and you shyly avert your gaze elsewhere as you hesitantly reach under your dress. “You are a terror!” 

“I’m sure your ass will be in agreement with that soon enough.” 

Groaning very softly, you hook your fingers into the waistband of your panties and carefully shimmy them down your legs so you can step out. Wriothesley watches attentively as you straighten up again, anxiously holding the balled up cotton to your chest even as you not so subtly rub your thighs together. You were indeed wet, you were more than a little horrified to realize. But he already knew that from earlier, or so you try to tell yourself, and you hesitate for only a moment when he expectantly holds out a hand to you. Shuffling over, you try very hard to ignore the way your heartbeat threatens to choke you as you carefully reach out to place your palm in his. Wriothesley pulls you even closer until your knee brushes his thigh and he reaches up to gently pluck your wadded up underwear from your slack fingers. He watches your face while he does it but you aren’t sure what he sees looking back at him when you were feeling so many surging emotions all at once, and he just carelessly tosses them on top of the table, not far from the brush. 

“Lay down for me?” 

You give a tight lipped nod but you don’t move. Can’t move. You just stand there for a long, drawn out beat with your hand clasped in his, trying to will your legs to move, but it’s like you’re rooted to the spot. Gradually, your eyes start to widen. Were you paralyzed with fear or … something else? 

Shifting forward in his seat slightly, Wriothesley tips his head to look at your downturned face. “Do you want some help?” 

“No!” You rush to say, jerking your head in a quick shake. “That’s quite alright, your grace. Just, ah …”

“I told you it was hard. Knowing what you’re submitting yourself to can really impact your mental state going into a spanking, which is precisely why I wanted to see how you’d react. Though, if you want my personal opinion,” He draws a brief, stilted breath. “I don’t think you’re quite as strong as you like to believe yourself to be, and I don’t say that disparagingly. There’s nothing wrong with needing help from time to time. If you ask me, I’ll give it to you.” 

Softly, you start to shake. Your first instinct was, of course, to snap at him and put on a brave face, and impulsively throw yourself across his lap just to show him, to spite him. But you were feeling a little too vulnerable after everything that had happened today — and a lot had certainly happened between you and him. You’d reached some sort of tentative understanding though, hadn’t you? Had even admitted to something deeply personal and intimate (a few something’s, if you were being honest) and he’d met you with sincerity and honesty of his own so … 

Maybe it really was okay to be vulnerable with him? 

“I —“ You choke on that one single word and have to swallow before trying again. “I’m scared, your grace. I want to do it but I can’t bring myself to … and I don't know why. It’s silly, isn’t it?” 

Your voice cracks on the last word, something in you shattering when Wriothesley dutifully reaches out to take gentle hold of your hip. The first tears streak down your cheeks as he positions you between the wide spread of his legs so he can gather up the front of your dress while you mewl and swipe at your face. You don’t know what’s suddenly come over you but everything abruptly comes rushing out in a flood that leaves you shuddering in front of him. 

Satisfied that he had enough of the material gathered up to prevent it from getting caught under you now, he brings the other hand up to grab your waist. Under his steady guidance, you find yourself stiffly bending forward to lay across his thigh, vibrating at an ever increasing frequency when he tugs you more firmly into place to nudge your butt into the air. 

“Are you comfortable like that, or would you prefer to lay across both my legs?” 

“This is fine.” You thinly respond and, without any further preamble, Wriothesley flips the back of your dress up. Squeaking softly at the sudden rush of cool air against your already sore bottom, you lift both hands to cover your face with a quiet whimper only to yelp a beat later when he cups the meaty swell of one cheek before doing the same to the other. He gives this one a short, lingering squeeze to make you hiss at the residual pain and then returns to the other side to do the same. 

He takes his time with it, just casually alternating his touch between both sides of your ass, rubbing and caressing the heated skin, offering it occasional pinches to really get the nerves sensitized. The anticipation of waiting is it’s own special brand of torture, and you start to feel well and truly dizzy with it long before he decides to get started. You really couldn’t believe you were doing this entirely of your own volition … not only had you wanted him to do it you’d even let him help you place yourself on the chopping block. What in the world was wrong with you? 

“I’m going to start,” He intones at last, drawing his heavy palm over your ass one final time. “You don’t have to count or thank me for this. We’ll save that for your paddling at the end. For right now I just want you to focus on what it is you’re feeling, is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir …” 

“Good girl.” 

His hand suddenly retreats and — swat! 

You immediately lurch forward with a wounded, faltering sound of agony, tipping straight forward onto your toes in an instinctive attempt to escape that blistering swing. His thick arm tightens around your middle though, giving you enough room to squirm and dance, and writhe, but not nearly enough for you to slip loose. The security that comes in knowing his hold on you is so absolute is surprisingly reassuring though, and you allow yourself to freely feel every single moment of the following few minutes in unrestrained misery. 

Just as every other time he’s spanked you, Wriothesley starts in on your sit spots first and he pays them extra special attention now, alternating back and forth between one and the other at a steady, unfaltering pace. Even trying to curl your legs up does nothing to dissuade him, and you just end up futilely kicking at the air while he continues to rain blow after blow, after blow upon your upturned ass. The insidious nature of him warming you up in the alley first and then letting the sting settle and fester, and recede to a dull ache before starting up again makes itself immediately known and it only becomes increasingly worse as it goes on. It feels like you're being pricked and stabbed by a million tiny needles all at once, and you choke on a half strangled wail when fresh tears soon start to stream down your face. 

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! 

Over and over again, until it turns into a constant, painful blur. You’re vaguely aware of snot dribbling from your nose but you don’t quite have the wherewithal to reach up and swipe it away, much too consumed by the fiery burn spreading across your bottom to care very much about that right now. All you could really seem to comprehend in that moment was that it hurt. Bad. And with that sudden, clawing surge of pain came more tears, more sobbing, more hissing grunts that get caught in your raw throat and seem to cling there. It was overwhelming in a way that made your brain struggle just to process it, the ultimate culmination of too much buildup and not enough time to truly understand any of it. 

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! 

It’s all you can do just to keep breathing through it. Was he actually hitting you harder this time, or was it something else making you squeal so much? All the livewire tension between you and the Duke of Meropide had finally crested, reached its breaking point after skirting around each other and the ever present looming threat of this all day, and it was — it was somehow both better and worse than the first time. It felt amazing to let your mind slip from the material world to a distant, dreamy place somewhere far, far away but it was also agonizing and teeth rattling in equal measure. Your ass felt like it was melting under the heavy crack of his palm. You hated it. You loved it. You had no damn idea what you were feeling anymore. 

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! 

And suddenly … it stops. 

Bonelessly rocking forward at the sudden reprieve, you let out a faltering, wet little gurgle that prompts him to slide his anchoring hand up to rub over your violently shuddering back. You probably would have found it quite reassuring had you not felt like you were going to be sick. 

“How are you holding up, little miss?” 

“I’m fine …” You slur out, still gasping for breath. Wriothesley pauses a moment, seems to think about it, and then shifts under you in the chair. 

“Here, let’s get your legs up as well. The way you jerk so much it’s a wonder you haven’t pulled something yet.” He leans over you to reach down, gathering up your bottom half, and you wordlessly groan in protest as you weakly struggle against his hold. “Hush. I know it hurts but be a good girl for me, okay? There you go … isn’t that better? A little less strain on your middle, right?” 

He pets you, very softly, and you tuck your face down against the side of his thigh with a pitiful tiny sniffle. You couldn’t feel much of anything other than the continuous, throbbing burning that blankets your entire backside, but if he said it was better to lay out across both his legs like this then it probably was. You were just so tired. Exhausted. You barely even had the energy left to cry anymore. 

And that’s when it hits you. What he’d been talking about earlier. It did feel like you’d been flushed clean, every single thought, emotion and memory you’d ever possessed effectively wiped right out of existence and in its place was an empty blank canvas just waiting to be filled up again. For the moment at least you were free, and suddenly the tears start coming again even harder than before. 

Wriothesley holds you through it, gently shushing you and rubbing your back when the tremors start to become too much, threatening to shatter you into a million fleeting pieces right there on his lap. It takes what seems like a very long time for you to start to calm yourself but eventually, finally, you slowly come down from it one jagged shard of you at a time. It leaves you wheezing in the aftermath, hiccuping every so often, and still he just keeps holding you. 

It was … it was kind of nice, actually. 

“Are you in the right headspace for your paddling now?” 

Grimacing slightly, you sensitively squirm and shake on his lap. “Must we?” 

“I’m afraid we must.” He agrees solemnly, tracing his blunt fingertips over the small of your back. “Remember what I told you last time about reinforcing the lesson and making sure you’ve been paying attention? Can you tell me what it is you’re being punished for?” 

It takes you a very long moment to remember. “I didn’t want you to pay for my lunch but you insisted, and I got mad … you make me really mad sometimes.” 

Wriothesley snorts a quiet laugh. “So I’ve noticed. What else, little miss? What else did you do to earn this hairbrush?” 

Your head spins from thinking so hard but at last you manage a soft, “I lied.” 

“Good. What did you lie to me about?” 

“I … I lied about not enjoying it.”

Humming, he traces the path of your spine up to the bunched fabric of your dress, following the curve of every individual divot and bump. “Why did you lie to me about that?” 

You really aren’t sure. Try as you might you just couldn’t seem to recall but, at last, you eventually settle on, “Because I don’t want to enjoy it. I don’t know why I do. Actually I’m not even really sure if I do enjoy it, or if you’re just tricking me.” 

“How would I possibly accomplish that?” 

“I don’t know …” 

“Well, sweet girl, let me tell you something. There’s no shame in enjoying it and I am certainly not tricking you into it either. What is it that you like about it, specifically?” 

You have to labor over that one too. Why was he asking you such complicated questions now of all times, when your head felt like it had been split open and pulled apart? “I guess I like the way your hands feel on me. I like how big you are, and how strong. I feel very small with his grace.”

A pause, thoughtful and curious. “Do you like being made to feel small?” 

Brows knitting as a little bit of the fog starts to peel back, you bring your head up with a heavy, sluggish groan. “Stop asking me so many complicated questions. You are an insufferable man, your grace.” 

“Well, then. My apologies.” He huffs, playing at offense, but you don’t miss the note of laughter in his voice even in your intoxicated state. Turning your head when he leans forward to grab the brush, you stiffen slightly with the realization that, yes, he was indeed about to spank you with it and you can’t help the curling tendril of fear at that as he settles back again. “Do you feel up to counting today, or would you like to just get it done and over with?” 

“That doesn’t seem like much of a choice …” 

Another amused snort. “It probably doesn’t. But you have been awfully good for me since we left that alley. Don’t think I didn’t see those big googly eyes you kept throwing at me.” He teases and, groaning, you reach up to cover your face again while he quietly laughs at your expense. “How about this - you count and I’ll give you a reward at the end. That sounds a bit more fair, doesn’t it? 

“Fine. I don’t even care, just - -“

Swat! 

It hits you out of nowhere and leaves you reeling, sensitively gasping and struggling just to stay in one piece. You shake for everything you’re worth, toes painfully flexing at the suffocating sensation while you twist against it. The brush hurt so, so bad. It felt like it was going to break you. 

“Don’t start getting mouthy just because I gave you a chance to rest for a little bit. Goodness, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone bounce back as quickly as you do.” Wriothesley seems to give his head a brief shake, readjusting the position of his legs under you to subtly angle your ass a bit higher and your top half just a pinch lower. The change in position leaves you blubbering for as slight as it is, and you furiously cling to his pant leg in a grip so tight it makes the knuckles scream, but a soft, attention grabbing tap of the brush against your hip soon draws you back into the moment. 

“I’m waiting.”

“O - o - one, sir …” 

Swat! 

You nearly come right up off his lap from how hard you jerk, but his free hand presses down on your lower back to keep you pinned. Teeth gnashing, you viciously hiss and seeth, impotently kicking your legs against the blinding sting, but it does very little in the way of good. The hurt just sinks in, spreads and then lingers with a tingly, pinprick throb. Suddenly you weren’t so sure you could do this. 

“I … I - I c - can’t —“

“You can, little miss. Although it looks like you might be a bit bruised by the end of it, I have nothing but the utmost faith in you.” 

As if that made you feel even one iota better about it! 

With a pitiful, sobbing mewl, you tuck your face down against his leg in defeat. There was nothing else you could do. “T - … two, sir.” 

A short pause and then — swat! 

You positively shriek, shaking so hard across his legs it’s probably a miracle he manages to stop you from sliding right off. This was terrible, and you’d barely even gotten started! 

“Oooh, gods … th - three, sir. Eeek! Oohhooo! Ohh! Ooh … nnghhnn, f - … four, sir. Aghhn! Ahhaaa … aaahhnn, five, sir! Waaahh!” 

The tears were starting to come again, or trying to, anyway, but you seemed to have cried everything out already. Your eyes just burn and swim with unshed films of mist as you rock against Wriothesley’s legs with each punishing blow. You could feel your skin crawling with every sickening pulse across your bottom, and that was to say nothing of the way your stomach lurches as if to shoot right up out of your throat. You didn’t feel quite as sick as before, but you were still pretty sure that you were going to be sick all over. 

Swat! 

You almost lose count, then you suddenly remember you’re only on seven. 

Hysterically, you start to wail. 

“S - seven, ss - sir … eeek! Hahhnngh … ha - eight, sir, please, don’t — yaaahhah! Oooh, nooo … you’re so mean, ahhn! Haahn! You’re mean, mean, mean!” 

“Am I now?” He drawls, barely heard over your own delirious blabbering. You’d never felt like this before. Never been so incredibly caught up in such all encompassing, dizzying pain, and all you can seem to do is wheeze through it while you uselessly squirm in his lap. 

“Ss - surely I’m not the — the first person to tell y - you that …” 

“You’re not. However, I think you can come up with a much better way to stall than that.” 

You laugh, hysterical and thin. He really was cruel. Quite possibly the meanest person you’d ever been unlucky enough to meet, which just further begged the question … why did you secretly feel so drawn to him, if he was nothing but mean to you? It didn’t make any sense. But, then again, neither does the way you mindlessly push back to arch your searing hot ass up in the air. You really couldn’t fathom what’s come over you, but you don’t stop long enough to linger on it or figure it out. 

“Nine, sir!”

Wriothesley doesn’t even hesitate. Swat! 

Writhing uncontrollably, you force yourself to seethe through it as fast as you’re able to so you can get the next one done and over with. This had quickly turned into an effort in strength of will rather than any kind of physical endurance, but you’d let him beat your ass a bit too much to tap out now. You would push through this just so you could slap him across his stupid smug face as soon as you’d recovered enough to do so! 

“Ten, sir! Ahhn! Ah, ahhh, nngh … eleven, sir!”

Swat! 

Archons, you really were going to be sick. 

“T - twelve, sir! Waaahh! Ohh, gods … thh - thirteen, sir!”

Swat! 

Legs kicking out violently, you take a moment to just shriek into the meat of his leg to muffle the sound. You were so close though … just a few more and you could finally be done with it. 

“Nnghn - hahh! Ahh … four - fourteen, sir! Yaahhghh! Ooohhooo … oww. Fifteen, sir …”

Swat! 

“Ahhgghh! Sixteen, sir! Eeek! Hehhee, eeh … s - seventeen … sir … yeowwch! Ohh, please! No more, no more, no mooooore!” 

Patiently waiting until you calm down enough to hear him, Wriothesley gives your hip a soft, comforting caress with an accompanying jostle to go with it. “You only have two left, little miss. Are you sure you can’t do it? Hm? It seems like it would be such a waste of your efforts to take your punishment like a big girl only to give up now … I can give you a short break, if you want.” 

Struggling not to hyperventilate, you suck in a series of quick, wet breaths and try very hard not to think about how badly your ass hurts. “Y - you’d really stop?” You squeak out, sounding threadbare and pitiful. 

“If you truly needed me to, yes. But there is a big difference between you simply not wanting to do something and you being unable to do it. I think right now you’re just overwhelmed, is all, but do correct me if I’m wrong.” 

You think about that for a long beat, frantically trying to blink away the thick tears lingering in your eyes. If it had been any more than two you were quite certain you wouldn’t have been able to do it but … two wasn’t so bad. It could have certainly been worse. 

Finding your resolve, you viciously fist his pant leg in your hands and force your shuddering body to go still, thinking perhaps that would somehow help you get through the last of it. “Eh - eighteen, sir. Please.”

He shifts against you and — Swat! 

It punches the air right out of you, leaves you gulping for oxygen like a fish out of water, but you don’t stop long enough to let it fully sink in. You couldn’t. “Nineteen, sir!” 

Swat! 

“Twenty! Ooooh, oh god, oh god!” 

“Shh. Deep breaths. Just breathe it in and then let it out. There, you’ve got it. Keep going like that and you’ll be running your mouth again in no time.” He murmurs, making you groan in agony. As if the splintering, eye rattling pain wasn’t bad enough, now you had to listen to him crack jokes too. Amazing. 

But, much to your chagrin, it does work, and you gradually start to come down from it enough to think a little more clearly as the minutes continue to tick by. It’s not by much but at least it lessens enough so that your brain doesn’t feel like it’s bobbing in the tumultuous current out at sea. Even the first time he’d done this you hadn’t felt quite so drained and exhausted … but surely he hadn’t been taking it easy on you back then, right? 

Right? 

“Doing good over there?” 

You draw a slow, stilted breath to steady yourself. “Yeah … no thanks to you, though.” 

“Hah. And what did I say? I knew you weren’t going to stay down long.” 

Gingerly, you start to push up, eager to get out of this uncomfortable position on your stomach, but Wriothesley is quick to grab you so he can control how fast you go, how quickly you can slide jelly filled legs to the floor and make an attempt to stand, but you just shake all over like a newborn fawn even with his help. With a soft click of his tongue, the Duke of Meropide reaches up to grab under your arms and non too gently hauls you right back into his lap again despite your halfhearted protests. The only difference is, this time, you suddenly find yourself straddling his thick thigh and you jolt like he’d zapped you when the pressure digs up into your cunt. 

Noising a wordless sound of confusion, you dazedly glance down to take in the sight of your legs bracketing his thigh, the material of your dress bunched and pooled around you in an inelegant, wrinkled heap. You have no idea what to make of this sudden development, how to even begin processing it. All you know is that the body heat bleeding up from him into you makes your pussy tingle warmly, and you abruptly realize just how wet you really are. The thought that immediately follows that one makes your eyes go big in horror. 

“W - wait —“ You stammer, trying to stand again, but he just firmly holds you in place with those big rough hands on your hips. “Your grace, that’s - -“

“Hush. It’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over. Just relax. You want your reward, don’t you?” 

Quaking, you cautiously lift your attention back to his face. “R - reward?” 

Blunt fingers digging into you, Wriothesley keeps his gaze locked on yours as he slowly starts to lean forward. You’re so confused and jittery that you don’t know what to make of it at first, have no clue what he’s planning to do, but then — he kisses you. And suddenly everything seems to screech to a standstill. 

It’s a soft yet firm press of his lips against yours, so featherlight and brief that it probably would have barely registered in your punchdrunk mind were it not for the intense spark of static energy that zaps through you all at once. You give a tiny little jerk against him, too surprised to react for a long, drawn out beat in which he simply keeps his mouth pressed to yours and nothing more. Like he was waiting. Anticipating how you would respond, if you would respond, when you would respond. 

Abruptly, a delayed shudder finally tears through you hard enough to make you sway on his thigh. A soft gasp followed by a faltering groan. Your lashes sensitively flutter at the sudden rush of heady, sharp arousal that crashes into you all at once and you lift your hands, cautiously slow, to clutch at his impossibly broad shoulders. Wriothesley breathes out a soft sound of approval, spurning you on as he tips his head slightly to better accept the warbling kiss you shyly press back into him. He lets you test the waters on your own for a drawn out beat, his mouth steady under yours when he occasionally moves his lips with yours to further draw you into the motion despite your trembling uncertainty. 

You like the way he tastes, you’re a little surprised to find. You also like the way he feels against you, under you, encompassing you, practically smothering you, and it doesn’t take long for a strange sense of desperation to creep in, prompting you to cling to him tighter. Kiss him more fervently and stiltedly rock into him in a blind search for more of what only he seemed to be able to give you. 

As if that was the cue he’d been waiting for this whole time, Wriothesley starts to kiss you back in earnest now, suddenly dominating the exchange to leave you feeling lightheaded and dizzy. At the same time his hands on your waist tug your pelvis forward to drag your bare cunt across the swell of his thigh, and you sharply gasp at the intense sensation it causes. Nudging his leg up a little higher to make your toes inch up off the ground and leave the majority of your weight centered on your core, he settles into a tortuously slow pace of push and pull, guiding you through the motions with the ever secure anchor of his hands on your body. You quickly succumb to it, all of it. The sensation dragging against your slit as much as the ever present throb across your ass that seems to mirror the wild rhythm of your pulse, the mind numbing way he kisses you, the smell of him as much as the taste of him. You were drowning in it all, sinking alarmingly fast. 

Finally unable to take it any longer, you weakly turn away from his demanding mouth to keen into the air, soft and thin. He doesn’t even hesitate to latch onto the side of your neck, pecking at your jaw and the pounding pulse point he finds a little lower, and you soon shudder at the warm, wet drag of a hot tongue when he laps at your skin. It really was too much. He was too much. 

“Aah … y - your grace, please, I — I don’t understand - -“

“I know, I know.” He shushes you in a low, rumbling growl that has you instinctively arching your back, the glide of your cunt stuttering over his thigh at the overwhelm but his massive hands just keep tugging you back and forth, back and forth. “Just relax and let me take care of it. I’ve got you, okay? You know that don’t you, pretty girl?” 

His mouth works its way back up, kissing along your cheek to claim your mouth again. As if he’s trying to consume you, pull you into his body, and he drags another stilted whine from the back of your throat with the dizzying motion. The lingering sting of tears rises in your eyes once again as you continue to rock against him, hips squirming eagerly in his hold, but no matter how wild you get he just keeps at that same unhurried pace. It’s almost as tortuous as the throbbing pulse that spears through your heated bottom with every little shift or jostle, but it inexplicably seems to make you even wetter. You were soaring unlike ever before. Reeling and heaving, gasping into his mouth. Having no other choice but to accept what he gives — whatever he gives you and however he so chooses — you slump into him and wrap your arms around his neck, clinging for dear life while the tension thrumming through you ratchets higher and higher. 

You’re so caught up in it you almost miss the first sign that this is having any effect on him at all when Wriothesley reluctantly drags his lips off yours in favor of groaning against the side of your face. “Shit, you’re so wet I can feel it bleeding right through my pants leg … you said I was a terror earlier but I honestly think the same thing of you.” A clipped, almost strained laugh. “I fear you may yet be the death of me at this rate, little miss …” 

You whimper at that, tightly screwing your eyes shut as you ride the gradually creating waves washing over you, each a little stronger than the last. “I’m sorry, your grace … I - I’ll have it dry cleaned for you, if — if you’d like …” 

“Nonsense.” He growls, turning his head so he can take a quick nip at your ear to make you gasp. “Say anything like that ever again and I’ll take you right back over my knee, do you hear me? Soak them for all I care. Come on, I know you want to cum … I can feel that cute little pussy of yours throbbing on my leg. Feels like you’ve got another heartbeat down there, doesn’t it? Bet it matches the one in your ass too …”

Crying out in stricken distress, you shudder so violently your hips grind to a sudden halt even when his hands try to keep you moving. He could force you to, if he really wanted, and you knew this, but instead — and much to your gasping surprise, Wriothesley digs his fingers in tight enough to bruise and starts bouncing his leg under you. The sound that suddenly bursts out of you is hysterical and high pitched as you sway and jolt on his lap, hands scrabbling to clutch at him somehow more fervently. The building tension in your body was too much and it locks up every single muscle, sets every single nerve ending to vibrate even while you suck in a haggard mouthful of air that doesn’t seem to be enough. Your lungs are constricting, they won’t expand, and you choke on it, disoriented in the potent flood of endorphins that bears down on you with all the force of a raging hurricane. 

It felt like you were going to vibrate right off his lap. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, lovely girl. Let me see how you look when you’re cumming for me, all nice and pretty. You’re so good for me, when you want to be … but you secretly like being a good girl, don’t you? You want me to keep praising you and rewarding you just as much as you want me to keep putting you in your place. Yeah, I’ve got you all figured out now. Don’t be scared. I won’t let you fall, just let it go. Cum for me, baby, scream for me - -“ 

You’re completely blindsided when the coil finally snaps and you do indeed scream, shrieking plaintively as your legs jerk and try to find purchase on the floor, try to push yourself up to escape the onslaught of sensation, but he just holds you in place even when you devolve into a mindless fit of spasms on top of him. Wailing in pleasure so potent it almost hurts, you judder through your orgasm and shove your face into the soft fur embellishing his coat, muffling the sound just enough to stop it from echoing endlessly inside your head. The persistent nudge of his leg right against your squeezing cunt seems to drag it out, encouraging tremor after quaking tremor to tear through you until, at last, you can take no more and you go boneless against him with a frazzled, heaving groan. 

Finally, Wriothesley slows the bounce of his leg and then stills all together. Giving you an appreciative pinch around the waist, he slowly drags his hands up your sides to wrap around you and tuck you more closely against him while you weakly twitch through your post-climax haze, struggling to calm your breathing. He lets out a terse, shuddering breath of his own and rubs across your back in comforting circles, sounding a bit dazed himself when he eventually speaks again. 

“Archons, you're perfect.” 

Offering up a soft whine, you give your head a numb shake. “Don’t say that.” You murmur into his collar. 

“But it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you, little miss. Not about anything.” Silence settles over the two of you for a long stretch, just sharing the mutual body heat between each other and the lingering haze of static energy in the room. Eventually, though, Wriothesley turns his head to tuck his face in close to yours, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. “We need to get you cleaned up and situated but I just want to make sure you know I’m proud of you.”

You go stock still at that, your fingers sinking deeper into his shoulders. “What?” 

Snorting, he nuzzles further into you until you have no choice but to turn your head, grudgingly allowing him to press his forehead against yours. “For everything, but especially for finishing your paddling.” He murmurs softly into the razor thin space separating you from him. “I know that was exceptionally hard for you to do but you took it well and you pushed through. I’m also quite pleased that you were able to cum for me. That satisfied me a great deal too.” 

“It’s not like I really had much of a choice …” 

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To give you what you need, even if you don’t realize you need it yet.” 

Huffing a brief sound of fluster, you quickly gather your resolve and force yourself to pull away, even though you would have gladly clung to him for the rest of the day if you would have allowed it. That seemed like it probably wasn’t the best idea though. Too tempting to reconcile in your mind, so you carefully untangle from him and move to stand up. You’re quite relieved that he lets you go without a fuss, helping you find your balance and get your legs under you again, but you regret it almost as soon as you take a step back and see his pant leg. 

The wet stain bleeding through the fabric is rather obvious on the light gray material, and embarrassingly spread out too. Gasping in unmitigated horror, you quickly slap your hands over your face and make an impulsive, blind dash for the bathroom to lock yourself away and wallow in your own embarrassment in peace. And Wriothesley, for his part, just laughs at your reaction, evidently not at all concerned about either getting his pants clean or being able to coax you back out later. 

Burn that dirty, rotten scoundrel!

⭐

Crossposted: here

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.23

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You were right that your coworker had wanted to introduce you to the group of people she’d been having a conversation with, but in their defense, they were incredibly friendly and hilarious. You felt good when they all asked for your number so you could keep in contact. 

This is exactly what you’d been hoping for when you decided to come, although you’ve already gotten more than you bargained for. Your gaze drifted over to the bar for the thousandth time that night. The redhead had long left to go socialize with the other party go-ers but you’d been replaying your interaction over and over. 

It was far from the kind of interaction you’d expected to have with her, and once your heart had finally had time to calm down you realized that you forgot to thank her for saving your life. 

But she wanted to see you again. She told you to find her. You still had the chance.

The room was beginning to get a bit stuffy and warm and you weren’t sure whether it was from the bodies or the alcohol, probably both. Either way, it made you crave fresh air so the second there was a break in the conversation you excused yourself. Your friend tossed you a concerned glance but you shook your head with a smile, assuring her that you were just needing some air.

The cool night air was a refreshing welcome compared to inside and you were glad to see you were the only one out there. 

You leaned against the wall and let the sounds of busy nighttime New York wash over you. The non-stop honking of cars and loud exclamations of drunk bar hoppers were a constant you were long familiar with. It was baseless noise for some but for you it was familiar. 

The view from the balcony was by far the best you’d ever experienced as well. Avengers Tower was one of the tallest buildings in New York and you could see why people were desperate to be invited. You’d pay good money just to see your city from this spot every night. 

You're caught up in your silent admiration when a figure appears next to you, taking up the wall space as they copy your body language and lean against the cool material with their arms crossed.

You look up at the figure, surprised to see Natasha’s soft smile peering down at you. She told you to find her later and yet here she was finding you. You hadn’t even heard her come outside.

You smile back at her, glad that the two of you got another chance to talk, this time in a more private location. You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to be able to see her again, it was nearing 1 AM and the party guests who hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Tony yet were stubbornly determined to meet him despite their obvious exhaustion.

Even you were on the verge of slumping onto a very expensive couch and taking a nap but that didn’t seem very socially acceptable right now. But your energy has been fully renewed just by Nat’s presence. Nobody could ever say Nat didn’t have a superpower ever again.

Despite your exhaustion, Natasha doesn’t even look fazed despite having to make drinks and network all night. 

“You do this whole party thing too often don’t you?” 

She smirks at you, a look you’re much more familiar with than the soft smile she was giving you a second ago. 

“You have no idea” There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, coming from the crowd surrounding Stark, and Nat rolls her eyes as if proving her point.

A chill runs through your body when a strong breeze catches the wind. There were pros and cons to being up this high. It makes you remember when you were younger, everything was so tall compared to you. You used to have a fear of heights. You wondered if Natasha had a fear of heights when she was young. If she’s ever had a fear of anything or if she was always as fearless as the first time you saw her, defending the world from aliens.

The memory brings a soft smile to your face as you stare out at the city in silence. It was a shock to both you and your therapist when you’d smiled at the memory. Everything else from that day had been- awful. Months of sessions and breathing exercises and crying and you hadn’t been able to genuinely smile until you remembered her.

You supposed it was the way she carried herself, like nothing could touch her. Not even aliens. You’d laughed at that and your therapist stared at you wide-eyed like you were in the middle of a mental breakdown. She told you it had been a while since she’d heard someone laugh in her sessions- the world was so quiet for weeks after that terrifying day. You were too- until her.

Natasha Romanoff was your guiding light. For a while, she might’ve even been your obsession but the more mainstream the Avengers became the more you realized you just admired her as a woman. You were nothing like the fans who followed her every move- you just wanted a chance to thank her. And now you have it.

Turning to her, the hundreds of versions of thank yous that you’d written ran through your head and then filtered away just as you opened your mouth to speak. Nothing seemed grand enough to express how grateful you were, but maybe you didn’t need grand, maybe she didn’t need grand. Maybe all she needed was something simple- woman to woman.

“You know uhm- I actually kind of owe you my life” Her attention turns back on you, her head tilting as she gives you her full attention. 

“Oh?”

You nod, swallowing your nerves as you try to talk about a situation you’ve only ever talked about with your therapist.

“Yeah, you probably don’t remember because it was super crazy and I don’t even think you saw me honestly but you saved me from an alien a few years ago and wow that’s crazy to say out loud-” You stopped your rambling and resisted the urge to bite your thumb, she was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t read. It gave you the chance to admire her up close. 

You’d seen her in person and on the news but she was different up close. Despite her intimidating persona she almost seemed…softer. You noticed the little freckles that dotted her face, the way her hair brushed her shoulders elegantly, the way she chewed the side of her lip lightly. Who knew the famous black widow had a nervous tick? You internally shook your head- you had to stop idolizing her and regard her as the person she was. 

You let understanding wash over you as you began to take in the tiredness behind her eyes, the way her shoulders never fully relaxed, the way her posture and movements were so perfectly practiced. It must be exhausting to always appear like the strongest woman in the room. Was she ever able to be vulnerable? Did she ever take a break?

Shaking your head, you let out a small chuckle “ -actually it doesn’t really matter what happened. I just wanted to say Thank you, for what you did all those years ago. You saved so many lives on that day but you saved me for months afterwards.” This is the longest amount of time you’ve held eye contact with anyone and you resist the urge to look away when you feel tears start to form. “ I hope you know how incredible you are”

She sucks in a sharp breath and looks away from you, her gaze going to the ever-dwindling party inside. You worry for a second that you’ve said something you shouldn’t have, or unintentionally reminded her of a painful memory but after a while her gaze turns back to you. 

She’s looking at you with that same look from earlier, her eyes shining with recognition and what you can now pinpoint as admiration. Natasha Romanoff admires you. 

“Y/n-” Your phone rings and you scramble to answer it, giving Nat an apologetic look that she dismisses with an understanding shake of her head. Eager to get back to whatever Nat was about to tell you your finger quickly swipes over the answer call button.

“Hello?” 

“Y/n! Where are you? You’re missing this great story-” Your friend seems significantly drunker than when you left her and you wonder what she got herself into in the short while you were away. You should probably go back and join her but…

“I’m on the balcony, remember?” 

“Oh..” You can practically feel her pout. “ That’s so funny I could’ve sworn I saw Natasha Romanoff go out there- Hey! Is she with you? Oh my god, she totally is! Are you hanging out? Did you tell her about your big fat crush-” You swiftly end the call.

You seriously hope Natasha didn’t hear that and that she can’t see the blush currently taking over your whole face but the sight of her smirking at you is definitely not a good sign. 

You’re absolutely mortified.

“You didn’t hear anything” You accusingly point at her and she raises her hands in a mock surrender. It’s the first time you’ve seen her surrender to anyone and you’re afraid of what it does to your insides. 

Whatever she was going to say to you seems to have gone, the moment sufficiently ended you figure it’s probably best if you head back to your friend and stop her from drinking more free alcohol and potentially spilling your embarrassing work stories. 

Nat seems to sense your plan to leave as she straightens up and you preen at the fact that she’d been comfortable enough to relax a bit in your presence. 

Smile still prominent, you rub your arm from the cold as you prepare to say goodbye to someone you’re not sure you’ll ever get the chance to talk like this with again.

“Well- It was nice getting to talk with you but I should probably get going” Nat looks like she wants to say something, her jaw ticks, and her eyes take in your face but when her eyes catch your injured shoulder she stops herself. “ Also thank you for that drink it was unfairly good and I’ll probably never have another like it” 

That gets her to laugh and you find yourself chuckling with her. A car honks in the distance and the party's still going on like nothing has happened but for you, everything has changed. This moment will be ingrained in your memory forever.

You make a move to leave but the sound of your name makes you turn back to her, a questioning look on your face. 

“You know you can always call me” The statement catches you off guard. You know the Avengers hotline is always open but they were usually busy dealing with prank calls and petty crimes. You weren’t sure they’d believe you if you called and told them Natasha Romanoff said you could call her and ask her to make you another drink.

The humor of the situation has you returning the gesture with your own proposition “Same to you. If you need anyone to talk to or just someone to give you compliments” She chuckles and you’re sure she gets that you’re joking but she still tilts her head in a tease

“I don’t have your number”

You let yourself indulge in the joke, seeing no harm in making your friend wait a minute longer “You have my name, I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding it”

A sort of mirth sparkled in her eyes as she spoke her next sentence “Well I’m no FBI agent” It feels like an inside joke and you're trying to pinpoint where you remember it from but after a few seconds you shake it off and blame it on the alcohol. 

You laugh and give her a wave as you make your way to the door back inside. Just as your fingers grip the handle Natasha’s voice calls out to you one more time 

“Take care of yourself, Y/n.”

You smile at her as you open the door “You too, Nat.” 

It’s odd how a few minutes of interaction will make the taste of her name feel so familiar

~~

Later when you're home warm in your pj’s and settling into bed, your phone pings with a notification and you open it to see a text from Nat-

       Nat🔪:

Nat🔪: 

I'm guessing from your lack of texts 

that you’re having a good night?

You smile as you type out your response, excited to tell her all of the details in the morning

Y/n🍦:

The Best❤

Pt.24

A/n: Nat seems to have hesitated- what do you think she was going to tell Y/n? ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Request: How about some jealousy headcannons for Velvet , Eleanor, and Magilou?

(Tales of Berseria) Velvet, Eleanor, Magilou Jealousy HC's

Honestly, I was waiting until I had access to the skit sprites, and now that I have, it's time to UNLEASH the Berseria asks that's been laying dormant for nearly a year.

Velvet's jealousy is quiet, and very terrifying.

Thinking about it logically, she really shouldn't be that angry about S/O simply talking to other people than her.

She was a Daemon after all. And yet, S/O chose to stay with her despite that.

And right now, they were doing anything but that.

It takes a long while for the jealousy to build up, but it's nearly ready to blow up.

S/O notices her glaring at them, and the person they're talking to.

After a few moments, Velvet realizes she's staring and quickly looks away, acting like nothing is happening.

S/O walks after her, with Velvet continuing to walk despite her name being called.

(S/O) "Velvet?"

(Velvet) "What?"

(S/O) "Are you alright?"

She stops walking and glares at them again.

(Velvet) "Fine. Why?"

(S/O) "You...just looked a little angry is all-"

Her eyes narrow as her fists clench.

(Velvet) "A little?"

(S/O) "O-Okay, really angry! I'm sorry I haven't had much time for you lately, I've just been trying to get supplies and-"

(Velvet) "I said it's fine. Better for us to be stocked up anyway than wasting time."

She tries to play it off, but S/O knows her better than anyone at this point.

(S/O) "Well, I could use your help carrying some of it back to our rooms. And...I'd like to have some time alone with you, actually. There's this pretty spot near the inn we can sit down at!"

Velvet simply sighs and her shoulders relax a little.

Choosing to not mention the blush on her cheeks, S/O gently grabs her hand and squeezes it for reassurance.

Velvet says nothing else and lets them hold it for a few more seconds before slowly letting go.

(Velvet) "Come on, show me where we're putting the supplies."

Eleanor feels guilty for even thinking about being jealous.

The two of them were busy, especially on a journey like this, romance was almost impossible. She knew this, and yet...

Eleanor pouts when she sees S/O speaking to the other members of the group and goes off to be alone for a moment.

Maybe some fresh air would clear her head.

The sun was about to set, watching it glisten along the coastline they were on.

(Eleanor) "Maybe during the voyage, we could...-"

(S/O) "Eleanor?"

Eleanor nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears S/O voice come from behind.

(S/O) "Are you okay? You look upset."

(Eleanor) "A-Ah...Don't worry I-..."

Eleanor thought S/O was too busy to notice her lately, yet the fact they noticed her leaving in a crowded inn made her guilt grow.

She cuts herself off before simply sighing and clearing her throat.

(Eleanor) "I'd like to get dinner with you, if you don't mind."

(S/O) "Oh, sure. I can grab the others and-"

S/O immediately noticed Eleanor's body posture change, both her hands going behind her back.

S/O gently smiles at her before nodding.

(S/O) "There's nothing wrong with being a little selfish. Where do you want to go? My treat, tonight."

Eleanor smiled back and nodded.

(Eleanor) "I recall seeing an interesting food stand in town. Perhaps they're still open?"

Magilou doesn't really get that jealous.

She knows when people are lying or being serious.

She also is very much aware of herself, and how she truly feels.

Not to mention the incredible circumstances she and S/O found themselves in, going to assassinate a world leader.

With that being said, it would be remiss of her to not embarrass her S/O at every opportunity.

That was a sign of true love!

S/O is simply talking to Eizen regarding the Van Eltia.

And that was the time to strike.

(Magilou) "S/OOOOOOOOOOO!"

Magilou called out for S/O's name as she extended her hands and nearly tackling them to the floor.

Barely fending Magilou off of them, S/O stared at Magilou who began flailing at them.

Eizen gives Magilou an extremely unamused look while S/O tries to shut her up, with everyone looking at their direction.

The crew, port workers, the rest of the group, everyone's attention was on them.

(S/O) "W-What are you doing, Magilou?!"

(Magilou) "You barely spend time with me at all lately! As your beloved, I demand that you give me attention too!"

(S/O) "We were literally just talking ten minutes ago!"

(Magilou) "It's not enough!"

(Eizen) "Are you done? S/O has to get the supplies on the ship before sunset."

(Magilou) "This is a matter of the heart, Eizen! You wouldn't understand, for you do not possess a maiden of your own!"

(S/O) "I'll talk with you once I'm done, Magi! Just give me a few-"

(Magilou) "UGH! You wound me, S/O!"

(Velvet) "I'm about to give you a wound if you keep this noise up."

(Magilou) "Believe me, you'll understand my feelings once you have someone to call your own!"

[mentalpolaroids]

Sounds of sleep

[gif creds @steverobin]

Steve Harrington x female!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Reader and Steve spend a Friday night “babysitting” and they all end up falling asleep in the living room, only, nobody can get any sleep because Steve is snoring incredibly loud... Except for reader, who's completely used to it 

Warnings: swearing, implied smut (but not really) 

“For fucks sake Dustin, you’re supposed to share the chips!”

“Can you not curse in front of my brother?” 

“You’re aware your brother curses more than I do, right?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes even knowing Steve was right. 

“Just don’t tell my mom that, she thinks he’s a saint.”

“Copy that.” 

It was Friday night, and after a lot of begging from Dustin, who insisted on having the party’s casual sleepover at his house that week, (y/n) was a spilled soda away from regretting not saying no to their mom. Ms. Henderson went to spend the night at a friend’s house and although she was okay with having her son’s friends over, she was paranoid about them being left alone, and the poor sweet woman didn’t have the heart to say no to Dustin’s innocent toothless smile so the only way to put her mind at ease was to ask her oldest child to stay home and take care of them. It wasn’t worth it trying to fight the woman on that, (y/n) was mad about having to cancel her plans with Robin and Nancy, a girls night they had been planning for so long because the three girls were always busy and their schedules very rarely conjugated with each other, but she had the next best thing to make her night less sufferable: Steve Harrington, her best friend and now apparently also Dustin’s best friend, a fact she was still trying to accept. 

Not that (y/n) despised how her little brother could so easily steal Steve’s attention from her, she honestly thought it was adorable to see the lady’s man show his soft spot for the kids, she was just still getting used to the fact she no longer could have him all to herself when he was over. But what enraged her the most, in a nice but painful way,  was how all of that just added to (y/n)’s growing romantic feelings for Steve. 

So, aside the chaos Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will installed in the house while Max and El looked at them probably wondering how and why they were friends with them, (y/n) was happy to have Steve there with her and for getting to spend time with him, dismissing the fact she would end up sharing him after all. 

“Alright, guys, the snacks have to last all night, okay?” (y/n) tried her best to put authority in her voice but the only people who seemed to listen to her were Will, El and Max, “Dustin, you heard me?” 

“Yeah, I did, but you could’ve bought more chips, you know?” 

“Yeah, well, eight bags was the best I could do.”

“Steve bought ten last time.” Lucas pointed out, earning a non threatening death glare from (y/n). 

“(y/n)’s in charge this time so if you shitheads could please do as she says that would be great.” Steve intervened, even though he knew the boys appreciated the effort the older Henderson was putting into their movie night, he knew there was so much his best friend could take from their jokes and teasing before she snapped. He felt bad already for her for canceling her girls night, so he would do his best to make sure she had the best time possible. 

(y/n) thanked Steve, a ping of annoyance in her tone, and turned around to go get another bag of chips and prepare the popcorn bowls. The boy followed her to the kitchen to help her. 

“You okay?” he asked, studying her unreadable features.

Without looking at Steve, (y/n) answered, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I don’t know, maybe because you had to play babysitter on your only day off this week when you already had plans?” 

“You make it sound like it’s torture to look after my little brother.” she chuckled.

“I’m not saying that,” he squeezed her shoulders in comfort and he had to hold back a curse when he felt the built up tension in her muscles, “you were so excited to finally have some free time to be with your friends and fuck, you deserve to have fun and rest once in a while too, you know?” 

“And I get to rest tonight, we’re watching a movie.” 

“Okay, fine, whatever.” defeated, Steve’s hands kept moving over (y/n)’s shoulders and when he heard her groan, he moved his movements to the back of her neck, “I’m just saying, you don’t have to pretend you’re not tired as hell. I’m here, I can look after the kids for you, I do that pretty much everyday already, it’s no big deal.” he kissed the top of her head, “You can go rest.” 

(y/n) sighed. She knew he was right. She had been anticipating that night for so long and now she couldn’t have it. But what Steve didn’t know, and (y/n) wasn’t exactly planning on telling him that, was that his company, just him being there and, oh God, him touching her like that was almost as good, if not better, than her canceled plans. 

“You just want the popcorn all to yourself, admit it.” she joked, turning around and pinching his belly. Steve smiled and pinched her back.

“Yup, you got me.”

“Come on,” (y/n) grabbed the bag of chips with one hand and two cans of Coke with the other and waited for Steve to get the bowls of popcorn, “let’s crash their party.”

..

“Okay so,” Max started, removing the pillow from her head that she was using to cover her ears, “any volunteer to suffocate Steve with this pillow or can I go?” 

“He’s annoying even when he’s sleeping.” Mike added, rubbing his sleepy eyes. 

“How is (y/n) sleeping so peacefully?” Lucas pointed at the girl serving as a pillow to the owner of the loud snoring that, to everyone’s surprise, didn’t seem to be bothering (y/n) one bit. 

They had gotten their sleeping bags, pillows and a ridiculous amount of blankets (y/n) insisted were not necessary ready before starting the movies, agreeing that someone would probably end up falling asleep earlier and it was easier if they all just crashed together in the living room. (y/n) and Steve weren’t planning on going all the way to the end of the movie marathon so they took the couch, but apparently it ended up being way too comfortable, especially with how tired (y/n) was, because the pair were the first ones to get knocked out. And if there was any doubt if they were actually sleeping or not, Steve’s loud snores gave away the answer. 

“They sleep together all the time, she’s probably used to it.” Dustin explained with his eyes closed, almost as if he was forcing himself to fall asleep. Silence followed after what he said which led him to open one eye to see why everybody went quiet.

“I don’t remember Steve mentioning he and (y/n) were dating.” Max spoke, “I mean, I always expected to go deaf from hearing him talk about his girlfriend whenever he finally got one.”

“He already talks about her all the time though.” Will added and the others nodded in agreement. 

“Oh they’re not dating.” Dustin clarified, but he was well aware both his sister and his friend were dying to get together. Their pining over each other was noticeable to everyone, even the kids, except for the both of them, “Steve just sleeps over all the time and he sleeps in (y/n)’s room.” 

“And your mom lets him?” Mike asked, impressed that Ms. Henderson would allow a boy to stay over, and in the same room as her daughter, when he had witnessed his mom flip so many times when she suspected a male presence in Nancy’s room. And he couldn’t forget all the threats he received from Hopper everytime he went to see El. 

“(y/n) can be very persuasive, and my mom,” he kissed his fingers and pointed them to the roof, “bless her innocent soul, falls for it every time. And come on, we all know the effect this bastard”, he pointed at Steve, “somehow has on women and I guess my mom is no exception. Like I said, bless her innocent soul.” 

“I think they’re cute.” El commented, smiling in admiration as she looked at the way Steve had his head on (y/n)’s shoulder and cradled her arm like a plushie, and her head rested on top of his and her hand was resting on his tight. 

“It would be even cuter if Steve wasn’t shaking the roof with those pig noises.” Max complained and layed back down, this time using two pillows to cover her ears. 

“Just wake him up.” Lucas told Dustin, who immediately refused. 

“No way I’m risking my life waking him up.”

“Then wake up your sister and she’ll do it.” Mike suggested before letting out a long yawn. 

Dustin sighed and crawled to his sister. He shook her knee in an urgent way, as if desperate to end the torture that was Steve’s sleeping sounds. (y/n) stirred a bit and snuggled more against her best friend while letting out a lazy What?.

“Steve’s snoring.” 

“I know.” she replied, not bothering to open her eyes. 

“Wake him up!”

“Why?” 

“Because we want to sleep and we can’t!”

(y/n) groaned in annoyance and finally opened her eyes in a roll at her brother. 

She carefully lifted Steve’s head from her shoulder and pinched his cheek.

“Hey, idiot.” she called, “Wake up.” 

The boy groaned and, like (y/n) did earlier, the only movement he did was snuggle more into her. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” she patted his tight the best she could considering Steve was still holding onto her arm. 

He replied something along the lines of Fine, at least it was what (y/n) could make out from his muffled voice against her shoulder.  

The two got up, one a bit less tired than the other, and made their way to (y/n)’s room. 

“Goodnight children.” she said with her back turned to them, a tired Steve following her as he waved to the kids, more asleep than awake. 

As (y/n) closed the door to her room, she almost jumped at the sound of Steve plopping down on her bed, who groaned with the impact. 

“Hey, don’t be taking up the whole bed.” she complained with a smile on her face. 

“As if you wouldn’t totally sleep on top of me.” 

(y/n) wasn’t sure in what way he meant that, but she wouldn’t deny either option. Not out loud, of course, if there was something she refused to do around her best friend was build up his ego even more. And, of course, let him know that he did have an effect on her. The Steve Harrington effect. But what was so special about her situation was that she knew she got to see a side of him no other girl in Hawkins had, and there was a very specific type of charm Steve had reserved just for (y/n), because no other girl in that cursed town had the same effect on him that she had. They shared a mutual fixation for each other, and whether they acknowledged it or not, it was undeniable. 

“I think it’s the other way around, Harrington.”

“I won’t deny that.” Steve turned on his back and finally made some space over the sheets for (y/n) to lay down. But not that much, because he was serious about wanting her on top of him, and he made it known by opening and stretching his arms so she could crawl between them. 

(y/n) did so with no hesitation or remark, it wasn’t known if it was her sleepy brain or her tingling heart that made her lay down on his chest with such ease, like it was routine. Which it was. The sensation of Steve’s arms holding her tight, their chests pressed against one another with their breathing in sync, their legs getting more tangled the more time passed, the more they couldn’t get enough of the proximity that always felt too much even when not even a breeze could pass between their bodies. 

“Thank you for coming tonight.” (y/n) spoke after a few long minutes in silence. 

“You don’t ever have to thank me for coming to the rescue.” Steve readjusted himself a bit so he could turn on his side and face her, “And you sure don’t have to thank me for coming to hang out with you, that’s like, the best part of my days.” he smiled. 

“You’re so corny when you’re sleepy.” 

“Actually I’m corny all the time,” he kissed her forehead, “and it’s all your fault just so you know.”  

“Oh really now?” (y/n) chuckled, hiding her face in the confined space between his neck and shoulder. 

“Yeah, really.” Steve smiled widely at the way her breath tickled his skin and he couldn’t help but squeeze her body impossibly closer to his and he felt this urge to kiss her all over. So he started with moving his head down to kiss her on the cheek, then her jaw, neck, until he reached the collar of her sweater and moved back up to her temple, allowing his lips to linger there. For a second he second guessed if that was okay, if maybe he was crossing a line, but then (y/n)’s hand crawled up from between their bodies and held his jaw, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. Steve pressed his face closer to her touch, which led to his other cheek to press against hers and he felt a fiery chill in his chest when he realized how close their mouths were. 

They stayed like that for a minute, both waiting to see who would make the move first. (y/n) did, the only thing going through her mind being fuck it, I need him. But before she closed the only inch separating their lips, she met his gaze, confident but nervous enough to not want to ruin anything, so she asked the silent question and a tug at her waist and the way Steve’s dilated pupils stared back at her was the answer she needed.

The kiss started slowly, a testing of the waters, a reality check. Then Steve gently pushed (y/n) on her back and his hands started to explore her hips and waist under her sweater at the same time his tongue passed through their lips. At a bite of his bottom lip, (y/n) caressed his back as she lifted Steve’s shirt and a groan left his lips. Taking a much needed break from the kiss to remove the piece of clothing, the boy looked down at his best friend and did the same to her sweater. 

“Is this… okay? Like, should we be doing this?” he asked, his uncertain question not being a match to his actions. His lips attached to her collarbone and his hands crawling under her to reach her back making it hard for (y/n) to concentrate on what he was saying. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I want to. Fuck, I want to, just…” Steve looked at her. 

“We can talk about it later.” (y/n) suggested, not too worried about the aftermath of what was about to happen. It was something both knew was going to happen sooner or later.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Just…” she pushed him a bit, indicating for him to lay down, “stay quiet, you don’t wanna wake up the kids again.”

(y/n) positioned herself on top of him, leaning down to go back to kissing him while her fingers followed the trail of hair from his chest to his stomach. 

“I’ll do my best.”

................................................................................

author’s note: So, this is my debut writing for Stranger Thing, so please go easy on me. I hope I did Steve Harrington justice, I haven’t written in a long time, this is my comeback (and with a new fandom) so this isn’t my best work but I had so much fun writing this and I hope you had fun reading it! Any feedback and (nice) constructive criticism is welcome 🥰

[tinietaehyun]

Sanguine Lover

[Vampire!Soobin x Researcher!researcher] [Mystic Trail Series]

Pairing: Vampire!Soobin x Researcher!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, comedy.

Contains: Profanity, bickering, dialogue-heavy, mentions of injury, blood, blood loss, self-inflicted suffering, deprivation, some mature themes.

Links: MYSTIC TRAIL MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Summary: You peer at your fellow researcher with slight suspicion. “Are you…okay?” He hums trying to avoid any eye contact with you. Sighing, you say, “You’re pale. Paler than usual I mean. Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?”

Soobin freezes, “What?” You scoff, “Blood, I mean?” The man seems to pale even more impossibly, “You know?” You start laughing, “Doesn’t everyone know?” You realise he’s not laughing with you. You murmur awkwardly, “Wait, is it not obvious?” Soobin murmurs, “It’s not supposed to be, yeah.” “Oh.”

—————————••••••••••••••————————

“With that being said, I hope you get settled in. This place is full of surprises, discoveries and much more! If you need any help, don’t be afraid to approach my office, alright?” The supervisor for this particular facility gleams brightly at you ending her long but sweet speech easing you into your transfer here. She was indeed extra happy.

You had to commend yourself honestly, you already scored a point with how much nicer this facility’s supervisor is compared to your previous facility (he was a piece of shit!) Thus, upon applying for a transfer, you were incredibly overjoyed to leave that pit of hell and come here to start fresh.

Here this research facility was responsible for numerous areas of research and study in relation to the mythological and supernatural. It was well reputed and known to produce outstanding findings. Hearing all this had made you extremely excited to start working here. You murmur at your supervisor, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She cheerily waves.

With that you put on your ID card and and begin walking towards your assigned room. You peer at the sleek white walls with the tiny bolts in the walls. Your eyes glance through the various glass panels of the doors you pass by seeing chambers and various rooms where accomplished researchers and scholars write and type away. You promptly scan in at your workspace and the door slides open automatically making your brows raise.

You walk in to be greeted by the various judgemental stares of your soon to be colleagues. Your hands sweatily grip the strap of your bag. Refraining from shuddering, you tentatively walk in and walks around finding a place to sit amongst the sea of laptops, computers and tables. You’re in awe of the various shelves of books and archives at the back of the room. The sheer scale of everything so far had surpassed your expectations. Excitement was building up within you; you had hoped to develop yourself more and become a more accomplished scholar.

Your eyes widen as you finally spot a nice nook and hope to keep to yourself here until you gain some courage to socialise with the other people here. From what it looks like most of these people also liked to keep to themselves with the way you note the ever so right boundaries of personal space and the quietness of the room being so resounding, that you could hear an ant walking.

You turn the corner and to your surprise you spot a lanky figure sat at the end of the table. At first you’re almost startled but it appears he becomes more startled of you when you turn the corner. “Oh-!” You stammer, peering closely at him.

The male had ebony locks of hair sprawled over his forehead and dark piercing eyes. His gaze was a mixture of surprise and annoyance contrasting his sharp eye shape. His perfect nose bridge glistens under the bright white lighting and not to mention his rose-petal lips, so perfectly luscious.

“Excuse me?” He cuts in timidly. You stiffen. Oh shit! You were caught staring at this fine man. He was just ever so pretty! His features were sharp and enticing, accompanied with the low timbre of voice, ever so slightly husky but soft toned. Oh, he was checking off all the right boxes! You murmur awkwardly, “Ah sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was wondering, is it alright to sit here? Not next to you I mean; across.”

He hesitates for a moment; even the way his bottom lip forms a subtle pout makes you want to squeal. How adorable! You didn’t know there’d be anyone worth looking at here in this lab! A cute colleague, this just made things all the better. He mumbles going back to his work, “Sure.” You settle down two chairs away from him and begin to slide out your laptop and begin to work.

Peering around, you notice the casual hum of the air conditioning and the serious expressions of those around you. People were much more put together and less social here. Perhaps that was a benefit in its own right. You find your gaze peering back to the male beside you and to your surprise he’s staring back at you. Flushed, he suddenly averts his gaze and your eyes widen feeling your own face warm up.

You decide to take a chance and hum, “May I ask what you’re working on? If that’s okay?” He peers up at you startled and he murmurs, “Oh, uh…well I’m currently looking at a thesis on the elves physiological responses to danger.”

Your brow arch and you quirk, “Oh! Yes, I studied elves as part of my main dissertation. The physiological responses are rather fascinating.” He peers at you for a moment, “Ah, yes. Elves are relatively new for me, in terms of subject field. I’m more knowledgeable on…vampires, sirens and griffins.”

You nod impressed, “Ah, now that we’re talking, how about introductions? Hi, I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve just transferred from the Seoul facility.” He stiffens slightly, “Oh…that facility isn’t all that great. I’m not surprised you got out of there.”

You grin, “Why? You have experience with that miserable place?” He shudders making you chuckle, “Ah, believe me. It was a terrible experience for me there. Here….it’s better. Much better.” He seems to have a particular gleam in his eyes, suggesting that he’s been through something there. It makes you intrigued but you refrain from pushing forward, so early on.

“Oh right, my turn. My name is…Soobin. I’ve worked at this facility for over a year. Yeah…I guess that’s it. I do research, I suppose.” You hum awkwardly, “Nice to meet you. I hope I’m not annoying you or anything. You seemed immersed in your work.” He places a hand on the back of his neck, “Oh that…don’t worry. I always seem lost in thought. It’s a habit of mine. I overwork sometimes to keep my mind off…things.”

You hum in agreement, “I suppose being productive is the best way to stimulate the mind. Nothing wrong with that. Best not to bottle things up always though.” He releases a curt chuckle, “Ah…right, right. Of course.” The air becomes silent again as you both have nothing to continue the conversation with.

To be honest, you were just glad you could begin to get to know this handsome guy! For once you managed to keep your social ineptness to the side and make a move (albeit very small!). You both resume working on your individual tasks with the occasional glances over and awkward smiles exchanged.

You peer at his flawless skin- pale in colour almost like porcelain but flesh. Was he naturally this pale? I suppose you’d seen people like this before. It contrasted his raven hair significantly. Surely…he looked too perfect. Almost inhumanely so. You’d heard of a few places beginning to take on the more humanoid supernatural beings as part of a inclusivity scheme. Perhaps…? As you continue to peer at him he abruptly stands up rushing out taking his bag with him. What just happened?

You look at his empty seat with a confused expression. He’d left his laptop open and the rest of his stuff here. That meant he’d be coming back right? He was already pale, maybe you should check on him? With a moment of hesitation, you stand up and walk out of the double doors with a worried expression coating your features. You walk around the hallway attempting to find him before you hear some clatter right at the end of the hallway. With that, you curiously walk over.

The end of the hallway encompasses a metal stairway leading up to the next floor and you timidly peek over. Your eyes widen at the sight before you. Soobin tilts his head back as he squeezes the life out of what seems to be a blood bag. His eyes darker than before and his lips stained with blood. His fingers squeeze on the thick lining of the bag trying to get every last drop. Your eyes scan his fangs that glimmer under the light.

Immediately you twist yourself around and walk back quickly down the hallway into your assigned work room and back into your seat. Stunned, that’s what you could describe your feelings as. You’ve always been interested in vampire, watched a lot of media related to vampires. Vampirism was something that had always intrigued you but somehow you never pursued it as a line of study. Perhaps because elves had caught your eye around the second year of your degree.

This was insane! Your fellow colleague was a vampire. A gorgeous one at that! He didn’t seem to act like one act all, then again you didn’t want to make assumptions. You’d never met one before, you only knew them to be rather alluring, seductive even. They could pass as humans easily without detection in most cases.

As you type away thrilled at this new prospect, you spot Soobin approaching with a disgruntled expression. He sits back done nonchalant but with a hint of dissatisfaction on his features. You ponder; was he drinking human blood? He peers at you for a moment before resuming his work. Staring at him, you hum, “Are you okay, Soobin? You kinda rushed-“ “Yeah, yeah. No need to worry. I just thought I needed to throw up, I’ve been feeling kinda nauseous recently. Perhaps need to change up my health habits.” He curtly cuts in.

Perhaps it’s best not to talk to him about it. Maybe that’s why everyone in this facility kept to themselves. You frown, you hope that they weren’t isolating him. He seemed so nice? Your eyes are drawn back to Soobin. He is indeed handsome, even his look of concentration is endearing.

Upon this realisation, it had made you more excited to come into work each day. You alternated between working on your laptop filling out reports, helping senior researchers or being in the lab for majority of the time- testing samples. A week passes as you and Soobin chatter and wave at each other whenever you pass by. He seemed to be rather reserved.

The other scholars seemed to treat him as normal. Huh, it must just be common knowledge here. You observe Soobin assisting another researcher with a sample and can’t help but admire how dashing he looks in his white lab coat. Sighing you huff to yourself, “What a pretty boy..”

He approaches you as you write up the report for your colleague. “You done?” You peer at his expression. He seemed even more impossibly pale; tired even. Nodding you murmur, “Yeah, just got to get it photocopied. You?” He hums, “Yeah, it was a fascinating griffin sample. Soyeon will be doing the write up.” You nod in response as your brows furrow, “Are you okay, you’ve been off today?”

He stiffens as he peers at you without a word. Soobin mutters, “I’m fine. I’ve barely been getting sleep.” You had to refrain from interrupting. Did vampires really need sleep to function? You swear you read one article insisting that it wasn’t vital for them? You mumble, “Oh? You thinking about anything?” Soobin shakes his head giving you a small smile, “Ah, I guess. Got…a lot on my mind lately. Lots of…thoughts.”

Sighing, “I feel that feeling for sure. I’m here to talk you know? You have my number saved right?” He nods giving you an embarrassed expression. A small laugh escapes your lips, “You’re so endearing.” Soobin scoffs removing his lab coat as you remove yours, “I’m not endearing.” Chuckling, you hum, “Oh? But everything you seem to do suggests otherwise. It’s odd actually.”

“What’s odd?” He enquires with a huff. You shake your head with a smile; you didn’t want to push him to reveal himself. Soobin would probably tell you when he felt ready.

As you hang up the lab coat, you yelp as another researcher shoves past you and you stumble into Soobin. He places his hands on your arms to steady you and your nostrils fill with the scent of his addictive cologne. You mutter, “Fucking hell, people here are rude.”

Soobin is stiff as he hold you and you peer up wide eyed, “Hey? Soobin? I’m steady now.” He removes his arms in a flash and murmurs a small ‘Ah sorry.’ Goodness, he looked sickly now. What was happening to him? “Hey let’s grab some fresh air.” You walk ahead and he timidly follows you. You both reach an open area of the facility filled to the brim with plants and access to the breeze.

Soobin inhales deeply as if trying to keep himself under control. Your eyes widen, “Soobin? Your hands are shaking?” You rush over with concern lacing your visage. “A-Ah that.” Has he not had blood in a few days? But you saw him drinking blood on your first day?

You peer at your fellow researcher with slight suspicion. “Are you…okay?” He hums trying to avoid any eye contact with you. Sighing, you say, “You’re pale. Paler than usual I mean. Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?”

At this point you were going to rip the bandage off. You had to get to the bottom of this! Soobin freezes, “What?” You scoff, “Blood, I mean?” The man seems to pale even more impossibly, “You know?” You start laughing at his question, “Doesn’t everyone know?” A moment of silence passes. You realise he’s not laughing with you. You murmur awkwardly, “Wait, is it not obvious?” Soobin murmurs, “It’s not supposed to be, yeah.” You release an, “Oh.”

So it was not how you envisioned it. You thought everyone knew. You even had various theories in your head how he worked here. Clearly not- everything you thought went out the window! You awkwardly stammer, “Oh- I’m sorry. Was that insensitive of me? I thought everyone knew.” He darkly gazes at you. “How did you know?” His tone lowers drastically sending a shiver through you. Murmuring, you reply, “Okay, I’m gonna be transparent with you. On my first day, when we were in the library, you suddenly ran out right? I was concerned so I followed you out and…” Soobin sharply cuts in, “What. Did. You. See?”

Stiffly you respond, “What you’re thinking is what I saw. To be specific you drinking blood.” Soobin’s stare pierces into you; it was a sharp contrast to his usual soft nature. You tentatively mumble, “Sorry. I really am. I hadn’t expected to stumble upon that.”

“You acted so nonchalant about it? You treated me the same afterwards? Why? Are you planning to use me for your research? Are you luring me to become a test subject?” He snaps; annoyance painting his face.

His words cut into you and you realise the depths of his words. “Soobin I- I would never? You’re my colleague, no, more than that a friend!” He bitterly laughs, “A friend? That’s what they all say. They see nothing more than a specimen for their next paper. An abnormality.”

“Soobin? Who’s they? What are you talking about?” He peers at you in silence observing your concern and worry. He mutters, “Never mind. Just some past memories.”

You find your bottom lip trembling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to force you to tell me, I also thought everyone here knew. I didn’t want to treat you differently.” Soobin peers at you sighing, “Now that I realise it, I think you’re a bit too kind-hearted and slow to take advantage of me.”

Damn right you were. Wait- slow? You scoff, “Did you just call me stupid?” Soobin scoffs back, “Not stupid, slow. There’s a difference. You lack perception-“ Gawking at him, you yelp, “Uh? Excuse me, no one in this entire facility knows what you are- but my hunch was right! I think I’m plenty perceptive-“

Soobin snorts, “Our facility’s supervisor knows! She let me in and allows me to leave the lab as I please.” You raise a brow, “To feed?” Soobin grunts, “Yeah, to feed.”

He glares crossing his arms, “Anyway, don’t tell anyone. Otherwise…” You smirk, “Otherwise what? You can’t do shit. But yes, don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. I swear on my life.” Soobin rolls his eyes; his lips form a slight pout. “Are we okay now? I like hanging out with you. Having lunch together, working in the lab together. Don’t you?” You question frowning. Soobin huffs as he reluctantly murmurs, “You…you have no self preservation do you? Being friends with…me.”

“Do you not want me to?” Soobin hesitates, “I… I do. I’ve been lonely for a long time.”

Soobin murmurs, “I have a hard time trusting humans. The last facility I worked in, I was included as part of a inclusivity programme. Had a formal introduction and everything. It started off great but soon enough, I found out half of the people were avoiding me, the other half were just purely obsessive; like I was some sort of test subject. Some so called friends that I had there, attempted to use me for their thesis. With that, I left.”

You question, “Your last straw?” He hums, “You could say that. It’s not everything, just a gist of what I experienced.” You mumble, “Not surprised there’s such shitty people there. I worked there after all. A bunch of prissy white coat losers with no heart.” He snorts, “Accurate enough.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad time there. Is here any better?” He nods, “People here just keep to themselves. I also specifically requested to not let my identity be known.” You nod; that was understandable. “Sorry, for snapping at you earlier. It was just unexpected,” he mutters. You smile, “It’s okay. We’re good now?” He nods curtly.

An awkward silence passes but it’s less tense than before. You murmur, “I don’t want to be intrusive, but you keep leaving frequently. You look nauseous? Is…is it anything to do with…?” Soobin stiffens, “Right. Well, I guess there’s no point in trying to hide it anymore. You won’t be afraid of me right?” You shake your head.

“So…it’s my thirst. The need for blood.” You nod slowly, “Yes? What about it?” He hums hesitantly, “Well, I’ve been drinking animal blood from delivered blood bags. As deplorable as they taste, they’re enough to sustain me. Or so I thought.”Your brow raises, “You thought?”

“My health’s been on the decline ever since I switched over to animal blood. As much as vampire can get accustomed to animal blood…” Your mind whirrs and clicks, “You’re still reliant on human blood to be healthy.”

He nods quietly. “So…obviously my cravings have been getting worse. I even considered getting human blood bags but they’re insanely expensive.” You quirk, “Haven’t you lived for awhile? Shouldn’t you have amassed some wealth?” A vampire who’s not ridiculously rich, who’d have thought?

“I’m a young vampire and you’re right but the blood bags I want- I don’t want to take from the hospital, those are for transfusions. The ones I want are from a separate and underground business entirely.” You take a few moments to process his words before a stupidly bright smirk graces your face, “So what you’re saying is you want ethically sourced human blood at a good price?”

“Wipe that damn smirk off your face,” he huffs. “What’s so funny about that anyway?” You snicker, “It’s super sweet actually. You don’t want to hurt humans? You’re so caring!”

The young man peers at you with glimmering eyes and a frustrated expression- that of a toddler who just got their candy taken away. “You’re so mean,” he comments making you burst out laughing. He mutters to himself, “Constantly tempting me…and now this.”

You stiffen, “Soobin?” He huffs, “What? You want the raw truth, no?” You go quiet. He huffs, “You constantly being around me whilst my cravings are increasing, is just so…god…all my instincts drive me wild.” A shiver runs through your body as the rasp to his voice. “I just want to…” he sighs. “I don’t want to lose control but I don’t want to go back to feeding on random people. Your scent too…it’s fucking frustrating,” he vents startling you at his sudden profanity. Damn him and how attractive he was!

“It’s affecting your health,” you affirm. “I know. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” You roll your eyes groaning, “I swear it’s always ‘I’m fine’ and ‘don’t worry’ with you. You can talk to me and rely on me, Soobin!” He snorts, “What’s talking going to do about my cravings?” You pause for a moment and find your mind churning with various thoughts.

“Well…as a temporary solution…I’ve got an idea?” You blurt. Soobin deadpans at you, “Do you now, y/n? Let’s hear it, genius.”

Quietly you murmur, “You…could feed on..me?” Were you insane? Perhaps. In your eyes was it budget friendly and ethical (well you were offering first!)? On the one hand, you always wondered what it felt like to be bitten. Not that anyone should know that, of course.

Intense silence ensues with him looking at you with an expression of utter blankness. Embarrassment floods your face. “Did…I say something wrong?” He continues to stare at you with an expression reflecting both concern and confusion. “Are you…are you one of those types…?”

You stare at him blankly, “What do you mean?…”He flushes, “Are you into that kinda thing? Being bitten? Blood?” You feel the colour from your face drain in sheer embarrassment, “Oh.” “Is that a yes?” You snap, “No!”

You do suppose there was a reason why you had watched so much vampire media whilst growing up. “I just wanted to help,” You murmur stiffly. “By giving me your blood? Do you do that for everyone so casually?”

You proclaim in denial, “Well, no I don’t really meet vampires on a daily basis.” He stares blankly at you before he smiles almost as if he’s holding himself back from laughing. “I would think you wouldn’t. You want to give me your blood? Like…for free?” You hum with a mischievous tone, “I mean if you want me to charge you for it, I’d be happy to start naming prices-“

“No, no. Actually no need-“ he stammers making you cackle.

What an odd conversation. You hum, “I do mean it, you know. If you keep going at this rate, it’s gonna become fatal for you. You’re already on the brink. I’d also not rather you encounter blood lust.” He scoffs, “I maybe a young vampire, but I am not a new-born.” You hum, “I’ve studied enough to know what happens when vampires are deprived.” He remains silent.

Soobin’s mind blazes in thoughts before he finally responds, “In relation to your offer, I’ll have to decline.” You hum in surprise, “What? Why?”

“I know my health is on the line, but I can’t bring myself to do it. You…drinking from you feels wrong. You have a good heart y/n. I don’t want to take advantage of that, or put you at risk.” His tone is laced with a genuine gratefulness as he meets your gaze with a soft smile.

A sadness covers his face and he murmurs, “Anyway, I’ll be off. I’ll drink one of my sachets to satiate me for now. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, okay?” He walks past you in a hurry after giving you a small tap on your shoulder. You stand there frowning as your heart flutters. You suppose there’s not much else you could do. With that, you return back to your work space.

A few more days pass and you begin to grow more concerned about Soobin’s condition. A colleague murmurs, “Where’s Soobin? Did he take a day off? I remember yesterday he threw up. Is he alright?” You stiffen. He threw up? He didn’t tell you. Did he not come to work today? With that you press his name on your phone and call him in a panicked flurry. Indeed, he had missed out on work today. He explains how he felt particularly terrible today.

“This isn’t okay, Soobin. I’m being serious. You need human blood. You cannot be picky. Even if just a little,” You murmur. “I’m just going through a tough phase. I’m talking to a potential supplier, I’ll get the blood bags sorted soon. I’m sure of it,” he sighs weakly. You murmur tentatively, “My offer is still on the table.” Soobin’s breath hitches, “Don’t.”

The phone call resumes as the topic gets brushed aside. He comes into work the next day looking as if he got back from a vicious battle. You observe him throughout the morning; he’s excusing himself more often- what you assume is to feed.

You find yourself walking towards his usual spot he retreats to. Soobin is hunched over sinking his fangs into the crushed blood bag. The delirious slurping tells you all you need to know. He was on the brink of blood lust. You were worried; what if he hurt himself…or others?

His dark ebony eyes snap to meet yours and he rips his fangs away from the bag and he snaps, “What are you doing? Go back.” He eyes gaze over you as his breath hitches in his throat. His hands tremble and your heart rate shoots up. “It’s best if you l-leave, y/n. Listen to me,” he shakily heaves out. He was holding back.

You boldly step closer and you snap, “Look at yourself, Soobin! Look at your state, tell me you’re not suffering at the hands of your own stubbornness!” You step closer and he flinches, “Don’t- I’m warning you y/n. Stay out of my business.”

“It hurts me to see you like this, Soobin. Let me help you, if it be just this once! You need to become stable! What if you fucking hurt other people?” He snarls lowly, “Keep it down! Do you want the entire facility here?”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn and indulge yourself for fucking once,” you argue ferociously. “You don’t know how hard it is to control myself right now, you standing there in front of me with your sweet blood pumping through your vessels. The temptation-” he rasps.

“Look at yourself, Soobin. Just this once. Let me help you out. I care about you, I want to help you-“ He snaps, “You can h-help me by leaving.” You flinch at his harshness and his eyes soften and he sighs, “I- listen. I don’t want to hurt you, y/n. Please.” His voice cracks. Your feet stay planted to the ground, “This once. Then I’ll help you look, for other sources. Promise.” Soobin’s eyes churn with a mixture of emotions and his fangs glisten. His mouth waters peering at you in such close proximity.

Soobin shakily straightens up walking towards you and you shiver seeing his intense gaze. His tall frame peers down at yours and he lowly murmurs, “You’re just as stubborn as me.” His breaths are shaky as he suddenly places a hand on your neck, “So tempting…I…you’re making it hard to r-resist. Say you want to leave, I’m giving you a chance, my restraint is snapping by the second.” You peer into his abyssal eyes, “I’m not leaving Soobin. Don’t worry, I’m okay with this.”

His fingers push aside your collar and he leans in making you turn left with your eyes closed. He murmurs against your neck clearly enveloped with the scent of your blood, “Oh…heavens, I- in so long…” You grip onto his shirt. Soobin breathlessly hums, “I-I’ll be gentle, I’ll be…” and with that his fangs pierce into the side of your neck near the base. He suckles at your neck; a whimper leaves your lips.

Then a yelp leaves your lips and you hiss lowly as pain floods your senses. You weren’t surprised at the sheer pain but rather how it wasn’t going away. You had heard about the various properties of vampiric bites aside from turning someone of course.

You grip onto his tighter and utter out, “Fuck-“ he wraps his other arm around your waist as he feels you stumbling back; it’s an intimate position leaving you nothing short of breathless. Soon enough you feel a tingling against your skin, something hazy grips your mind like a vice. Something telling you to tilt your head back and allow yourself to give in. It feels good, pleasant. Soobin gulps and slurps against your neck and you feel the world become blurry and blabber out, “S-Soobin- I feel… light-headed.” He doesn’t stop and panic sets in as you tap his back, “Soobin! Soobin-!”

He grunts and his eyes widen in horror as he gently part way from your neck. He peers at the trickle of blood and the puncture wounds on your neck. Mortified with himself he utters, “God…I- I’m sorry. Shit-“ Your blood stains his chin and lips. He gently sits you down and leans you against the wall; his expression is solemn. Does he think he’s a monster? You tiredly peer up at him with a comforting smile. His eyes glaze over, “Stop that. I already feel so guilty I…”

You close your eyes trying to compose yourself. The tingling sensation on your neck from his bite sends shivers through your body. You hear footsteps running away and you open one eye to find Soobin sprinting down the hall. You’re stunned; he just up and left you here? No way. The fuck? Was he overwhelmed?

You close your eyes once more and release a long sigh. You place your hand on your wound; thankfully the bleeding had stopped quickly. You grimace as the dried blood stains your fingers. A few sanguine coloured drops had gotten onto your shirt.

Suddenly, footsteps approach and your brows arch in surprise. Soobin rushes over carrying a small first aid box. You snort as he crouches beside you and he starts unravelling a cotton pad and several items. You weakly murmur, “I’m-“ He hushes, “Shut it. Not a word out of you.”

You smile at him fatigued and he peers at you with a frown, “I was a bit rough. I’m sorry.” You notice his eyes full of life and his body as active as ever; you blood indeed was nourishing. His skin seemed to have a new glow to it.

He continues to patch your neck up in a discreet manner making sure it wouldn’t appear over your collar. You watch him as offer you a bottle of water and you gulp it down gratefully. Soobin peers into your eyes and you do the same back. His proximity was incredibly close as his hand still lingers over the cotton pad on your neck, “Thank you. I need to say thank you. I feel a lot better,” he articulates calmly. Guilt laces his face and you release a chuckle, “Don’t feel bad, I’m glad you’re okay for now.” Soobin peers at you with a heartfelt expression, “I…you’re so kind.”

“Complimenting me are we? That’s new.” He scoffs rolling his eyes and you grin, “Oh come on, see. I’m fine. Look at me.” Soobin’s eyes meet yours and you feel your heart skip, his gaze is intense. “You make me go insane, I swear,” he murmurs before he suddenly presses his lips against yours. Your eyes widen as you place your hand on his cheek. His hand covers your hand intertwining his fingers against yours cupping his cheek. His fangs caress your lips lightly. His soft petal lips move against yours, his tongue brushing your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away just as quick as he started.

Both of you peer at each other breathlessly and wide eyed. An imbecilic grin forms on your lips and he scoffs, “Wipe that grin off your stupid face.” You tease, “Stupid face? But you just pressed your lips to this face.” He scoffs, “That- that was-“ “A thank you? Or have you been dying to do that?” You mischievously hum. Soobin softly glares at you, “You’re a pain you know that.” He goes quiet before saying, “That kiss…I- I’m sorry. It was the wrong time, you’ve already been bitten. I-“

“Oh shut up,” you huff. He scoffs, “Rude.” You roll your eyes, “You’ve said too many apologies.” Soobin frowns, “Well, I feel terrible inside.” You cup his cheeks and coo catching him off guard, “Soobin, Soobin, oh what am I going to do with you?” Soobin muffles, “I’m a vampire, yet this is how you treat me.”

You release his face and chuckle, “Yes, yes, so big and scary.” He deadpans unamused at your remark.

He seems to not be pushing you away so you hum suddenly feeling bold, “…you’re not in a relationship right? I’d assume not.”

“Am I that unloveable?” He questions. You scoff, “Oh come on-“ He chuckles with a soft smile, “I’m kidding. Now you know how I feel. But I’m not. Why?”

You deadpan, “Why? You’re asking why? Can you not tell?” He peers at you, “Well- I have an idea of what you’re implying.”

“I think you’re just oblivious,” you quirk. He scoffs, “I’m not.”

“I’m not in a relationship either,” you hum. Soobin playfully smiles at you, “Poor human, doomed to die alone?” You glare, “Idiot, do I have to embarrass myself further?” Soobin hums coyly, “Yes, that’d be preferable.”

You gather up all the courage you have and blurt out, “Go out with me, Soobin.” You add on rapidly, “Please. No pressure of course.” He peers at you with wide twinkling eyes before his lips break out into an adorable smile. Soobin hums, “You have no self preservation if you were to date me.”

“I think we established that when I literally gave you my blood, no? Or when you kissed me?” You hum and he flushes in embarrassment. He clears his throat, “You have no idea how much I want to.”

You glare, “Hit me with the ‘but’ and ‘if’ then.” He chuckles with a saddened expression, “If you’re constantly around me, what about my cravings? You blood was just…” he reminisces, “so good.”

You hum, “You said you found a potential supplier, right?” He nods, “He said he’d get back to me by the end of this week.” You murmur, “We’ll see how that goes. If not, I’ll help you out. We can try explaining to our supervisor, no? She must have some connections.” He groans, “I suppose she’s too cheery for her own good. She must have some dark connections. I’m not sure though.” You snort, “I’ve thought about that too you know. We’ll see.”

He ponders to himself, you lean forward with a teasing smile, “What are you overthinking about now?” Soobin peers at you with a smile; his dimples prominently at display. How adorable! You place a finger on his dimple and he scoffs. You giggle, “Oh you’re so cute.”

His eyes glimmer before he grips your wrist making your eyes widen and he pulls you forward pressing his lips against yours once more. A muffled yelp escapes and you relax into the kiss as he moves his lips against yours passionately His lips were ever so soft as they merged with yours intimately and he parts from you with a coy smirk. “Was that adorable enough for you?”

Oh how you craved for more. You hum, “Pretty romantic if you ask me.” He rolls his eyes, “Menace.” “I’m not the one with fangs,” you grin.

He raises a brow, “I hope you know with being around me. I might ask for another bite.” You hum, “Is that supposed to intimidate me? Frankly, go for it. It felt good.” Shit, being too honest is never good. Ah, fuck.

His lips form a devious smile, “Oh so you are one of those types…” He helps you to stand up.

You groan, “No I’m not!”

Soobin hums playfully, “Quite the freak aren’t you? Wonder what else your mind up there has in store?”

You whine, “Soobin…I-“ He cackles making your heart warm. This was the first time you’d seen him truly laugh with genuine joy in his features. What a wonderful sound.

Perhaps, some encounters with the supernatural weren’t all bad, hm? Perhaps some were even pretty good.

[omegamusings-writigs]

[HC] You And Omega!Kaminari Wanting to Court Alpha!Shinso

Originally posted: Oct 09, 2020 Re-posted: Dec 26, 2022

Masterlist

My Hero Masterlist

you and denki were one of few omega couples at ua

and honestly, it was great

you’d have one nest in your room and one in his

both of them were made by the both of you and the two of you can usually be found in one of your nests

your nests aren’t just for cuddles for he two of you, you do pretty much everything in them: homework, watching tv, playing games, etc.

but you did feel like there was someone missing

both you and denki had more than one marking spot so you knew there was supposed to be another person with you

it wasn’t necessarily that you wanted an alpha with you (although that would make heats easier when you were older) but there were just some things denki was into that he’d like to do with his mate but you weren’t into

and the other way around

of course the two of you usually just agree to whatever it is anyway to make your mate happy but you don’t really enjoy it

enter shinso

now it wasn’t a new thing for you and your mate to lie in your nest and talk about ua students you found attractive

you are surrounded by hot people at ua so you’d often be talking about them together

however with shinso it was different

yes he was insanely attractive and his scent was incredible

but he also shared interests with the two of you

so you start plotting together to get him to join you into your relationship

you’re both too chaotic to just ask him smh

shinso does not take long to realize that there are two omegas following him everywhere also some of his hoodies have gone missing

but he just assumes you guys are watching him because of his quirk 

he knows you are a couple so he can’t come up with any other possible reason why

then one day shino catches denki stealing one of his shirts from his room

turns out pretty much everyone in shino’s class knew of your antics but the stayed silent 1) because they wanted him to find out himself and 2) because it was very entertaining to pretend not to notice two omegas regularly breaking into their dorms

it’s a wonder shinso hadn’t picket up on your scents in his room but then again he does smell you a lot throughout the day bc you keep following him to the point where it seems like he’s just always smelling you

he had always enjoyed your scents though so why would he try and stop you

anyways, as shinso enters his room he sees denki going through his clothes and just freezes in the doorway

denki is so surprised that he chirps and accidentally shocks him

then he runs lmao

you were in your dorm, lying in a blanket burrito on your bed bc you were sick

denki came up with the idea of getting you something with a fresher scent of what you now considered your alpha, to comfort you while you were sick

so you’re very happy to see him when he comes back to your room with a shirt of shino’s

then you start protesting at he lifts you and from the bed and pushes the y/n burrito under the bed where he hides with you

it doesn’t take long for the door to burst open

“hey idiots, there’s an alpha here searching for you” it’s bakugo

he was the only one in your common area and shinso didn’t know where he’d be able to find you so he asked him for help

you pretend you’re not there

bakugo just scoffs and leaves but motions shinso towards the room

as you hear him walk away, you turn to denki and he explains what happened before you suddenly both get yanked out from under your bed

standing above you is shinso, your alpha

he just looks at the two blushing omegas beeath him with a raised eyebrow and denki starts explaining everything to him 

shinso is so fucking confused

why would you want him as your alpha? aren’t you scared he’ll mind control you against your will?

neither of you even thought about the fact that he has the ability to do that bc you’re simps

he’s not opposed to courting you guys though

so your relationship starts with him picking up the y/n burrito and placing it back on the bed

as an omega, you likely have at least one stuffed animal on your bed so you pick it up and ask shinso to scent it for you

he blushes and does so and denki immediatly leaves to bring shino his pikachu stuffie to scent

you then dissolve your burrito and scoot to the side so that shinso can crawl into the middle of your bed

it’s pretty awkward at first and he just kinda lays there with an omega latched to either side of him but he soon relaxes and it’s the first of many night to come in which he actually sleeps well

Bonus:

“Wait is that my shirt?” he asks, looking down at the shirt you’re wearing. It’s a different one from the one that Denki stole earlier but it’s definetly still his.

“No?” your answer sounds more like a question itself.

“Just how many of my clothes did you two steal?”

You share a look with Denki and the other omega smirks, “You’ll see when we show you our nests”

Needles to say that you guys are now the first he asks when he can’t find something of his though he’s come to realize he won’t get it back anyway.

[grimalkinmessor]

Okay but Reigen's ability to lie and change masks at will means that he can be literally anyone Mob needs him to be at any given time. And he often is.

I was thinking about this because I rewatched the break-up episode and Reigen's words had always caught me a little off guard when he said all that stupid shit to Mob, because—and yes this is the point I suppose—he's never usually that harsh with Mob. Because the rod isn't what Mob needs, and Reigen knows it, and he usually tries to be the best shishou he can be whilst still lying to his disciple about everything else :'D So I considered Reigen insulting Mob and going after his friends to be largely out of character for him!

But, I realized that the series focuses so much on Mob's inner struggle that we don't get to see a lot of Reigen's. And for Reigen, who has had Mob all to himself for close to three years, the sudden influx of people taking Mob's time and attention would've been highly alarming and disquieting to him. Because for literal years, Reigen was the village raising the child.

Before the series started, Mob and Ritsu were still distant if loving. His parents don't seem to make much of an impact on is life either. And before joining the BIC, Mob had no friends either. He just kind of,,,existed. The only person he could've considered a friend was Reigen. Reigen gives him advice and life lessons like a parent, jokes around and heckles him like a friend, and scolds him when he's being dumb like a mentor. Reigen didn't raise Mob (he does still have parents for that and Reigen has only known him three years out of fourteen) but before canon he did seem to have a great deal of control and say-so over Mob's life.

And yes, again this is bad. It's unhealthy at best. But Reigen's options in the beginning were either fire Mob and send him away so that wouldn't happen, or keep him by his side and encourage him to make friends as they went along and Mob learned more control and social skills from him. The latter might've even been Reigen's original plan once he realized he actually likes Mob as opposed to him just being a random kid. But then, of course :) Reigen gets attached :)) Too attached, even :)))

Enough so that when the time comes and Mob actually DOES start to make friends, Reigen feels deeply threatened. Fondness has blossomed out quite nicely into codependence, and now Reigen—who is also deeply, incredibly lonely—cannot imagine a life without Mob in it anymore. He doesn't like the thought of Mob drifting away. Outgrowing him. So he opens his mouth and puts his foot directly inside, trying to alienate Mob from his friends and secure his spot as top friend dog once again. (Honestly as if there was any question 🙄).

Thankfully, Mob nips that shit in the bud IMMEDIATELY. Because again, he's been with Reigen for the past three years, and other than some of the other bullshit bout spiritual powers, Reigen has been largely very wise and helpful when giving life advice. It was very likely his OWN teachings and words about being wary of being manipulated and conned that helped Mob recognize it that fast.

So Mob leaves, and Reigen...crumbles.

Damn near instantly.

He tries to convince himself that he doesn't need Mob, that he's fine without him and that he never even cared about him in the first place—but later we see that the idea of Mob leaving him for good makes him actually, physically nauseous. That moment in the alleyway, with the moths around the lamp as my witness, was a moment of death and rebirth within Reigen's psyche. Again with the moths there that might be obvious lmao. The singular moth dying there might even be a reference to the fact that only one of Reigen and Mob's relationship problems have been addressed (and somewhat?? solved?? at least in the way that Reigen has acknowledged the need for change in himself on this front).

Idk, I just think it's interesting :3 He was alone in his friendship with Mob for a very long time, and I think he panicked more than made any sort of cold calculated move to be an asshole. He and Mob are similar in that way; they both found someone who needed and understood them, Mob with his powers and Reigen with his tricks and acts, both of them using their abilities for the other's benefit. I love the break-up arc so much, it's so much fun to think about 💖

[livelaughghoul]

Oscar Piastri Personality and Career Tarot Reading

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only, nothing observed or taken away from this should be considered fact. As a reminder, I know fuck all about Formula 1, I just like fast cars and have a dumb amount of knowledge of astrology and tarot. 

Since I am just recently getting in F1, the first race I actually watched was the Hungary GP. Which like, what an introduction to the sport. Since then I have watched a lot of the replays from prior races, but my knowledge outside of the track is nonexistent. Having this be my first introduction to Oscar was interesting, and I think that there is a lot to unpack there between the team dynamic and the way they approach and relay information to both Oscar and Lando. I may end up doing a reading on two of them at some point, but we will see how I am feeling. 

This spread is actually amazing to me, because we have one of the better Swords followed with a slew of Cups. I love that we are mixing Swords and Cups (even if we are Cup dominated), because Swords are very self focused, almost interalized, whereas Cups are incredibly emotional. I think that it specifically being the Two of Swords really telling, especially with the specific correlation of the Cups we pulled. 

I really love this spread, like a lot. I usually don’t care much for wanting to learn more about the people on the grid, but I actually am interested in getting to know more about him because this is just so interesting to me. I might actually look into someone other than Jenson Button, Sebastian Vettel, and Kimi Raikkonen (honestly I owe that anon SO MUCH, because you truly have made my life so much better with these men). 

Outward personality - Two of Swords

This card has a soft spot in my heart because it absolutely is the introvert card. It’s protective in nature, and more reserved. While I don’t think it’s a full avoidance of feeling or expressing things, but it definitely is a more thought out or silent approach to emotions and expressing them. Since things are more reserved, there is going to be a lot to go through to develop a friendship or relationship with Oscar. I see a lot of people referring to him as a cat (which is hilarious, I love this), and I think that is really seen in this card positioning. Cats take time to develop trust in people, but when they do, it’s lifelong and so rewarding. Cats are also really good at masking how they really feel, I think that there is a lot of masking and hiding of things in terms of how he is feeling or what is being experienced. 

Inward personality - Ten of Cups

Interally, once you break past the resting bitch face and flat affect, you feel nothing but valued, delight, and at home. The Ten of Cups is like, coming home to your family after a long day at work and just getting to feel valued and at home. It’s a happiness, feeling fulfilled and loved. I love the switch up of the outward personality being this like professional brickwall, and then on the inside there is this soft gooey center filled with love and affection.

Current career - Queen of Cups, reversed

I’m not a huge fan of this one when it comes to the career, because I think that this has the possibility of being too willing to take everything lying down, allowing others to essentially make the decisions for you, and almost put yourself in a secondary or lower positioning. There is a lot of tenderness in this card, and I think that while yes, Oscar absolutely can be aggressive and challenge things, I think that there is alot of hesitancy in this. There is going to be this patience and accepting of whatever he is told to do. It absolutely tells me that he is a team player, but I think that there may be too much of prioritizing of others instead of himself. 

Future career - Three of Cups, reversed

No matter where he goes in his career, who is on a team with, or what his support team looks like, this man is making friends and building a community wherever he goes. Oscar is going to be able to foster a community wherever he ends up, and this is going to make work so much smoother, especially when there is a transitional period that happens. 

[ghosts-n-bones]

Error Sans x Reader - 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

~*~

With a scowl on his face, Error sits idly on his spot on the couch in your living room.

Yes, his spot.

He spends so much time at your place that he had claimed the left side of your couch as his, not that you really minded. You happened to like the right side better anyway, or so you’ve told him. However, you had spent the entire evening up in your spare room, leaving Error without his couch buddy. At some point, he had even gone up to see what you were doing, but you told him he wasn't allowed to see yet.

Which is why he now sits on the couch alone, grumbling to himself.

Look, Error knew you were probably making something to show him, if the mischievous look on your face told him anything. You had told him before that that extra room became your hobby room when you moved in. He's seen it before. It was filled with miscellaneous art supplies and instruments. He... didn't like going in there too often. It reminded him of a certain skeleton he'd rather not think about. You had told him that you completely understood. After all, hating that rainbow bastard was something you two had in common.

Despite his hesitance, he still wanted to see what was taking you so long. He knew it was supposed to be a surprise, but that didn't stop Error from being painfully restless and incredibly curious. The tv in front of him became white noise as his mind raced with different possibilities. He didn't really like surprises, they tended to make him crash.

But he knew you would never do anything to scare him on purpose.

He flushed a bit at that thought, but he quickly shoved it away. Never in a million years did he think he would ever feel comfortable enough around someone to think that, let alone a human.

With an overdramatic sigh, Error flops sideways on the couch into a laying position, staring at the ceiling. Hopefully you'd be done soon... he's not sure how much longer he can be patient.

---

With a few more flicks of your brush against the canvas, you let it drop into the water glass with a satisfying plop. Taking a step back from the easel, you cross your arms over your chest. You squint, tilting your head sideways as you looked at the now-completed painting in front of you. With a satisfied grin, you sigh happily at the completed art piece. You were honestly worried that you wouldn't finish it on time. You wanted to give it to Error before the day was up, and you knew you were pushing it, but you were able to power through and create something you were rather proud of. You see, today was an anniversary of sorts. Today marked exactly one year since you saw the stars for the first time, and Error had been the one to show them to you.

You had lived in a busy city ever since you were a child, so you had never really been able to see the night sky. The combination of light pollution and your busy schedule prevented you from ever seeing the stars in person.

The night you first saw the stars happened unexpectedly. Error had come over again, like he usually did, and you happened to be watching a documentary about space exploration. Error surprisingly seemed to be really interested in the topic. He told you that watching a documentary would never compare to seeing the real thing. You offhandedly mentioned that you had never seen the stars in person before. He then proceeded to give you a bewildered look, asking how that was even possible. You shrug, saying you had never had the opportunity to see them. Without a word, he then wrapped a few of his strings around your wrist and opened a portal. He dragged you off of the couch, much to your displeasure, and through the portal. You were confused at first... the ground beneath you had changed from your carpet to what appeared to be rock, and the surrounding area was darker than it had been before. You remember asking Error where he had brought you and he simply pointed to the sky, saying "You said you've never seen the stars, so I brought you to the source."

You lift your head to the sky and let out an audible gasp. That's when you saw them. Millions of bright, glowing stars shining in all their glory. The stars were brilliant shades of blue, purple, and yellow, twinkling above you. It felt like your breath had been taken away. You had never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life. Error explained to you that this was another universe, known as Outertale. It quickly became a very special place for you and Error.

And the rest was history.

With a faint smile on your lips at the memory, you turned towards the door to your spare room. You couldn't wait to see what Error thought of your gift.

---

Error heard the door to the spare room creek open and he quickly sat up. You peeked your head around the door frame and looked around before calling down to the glitchy skeleton.

"Error, I'm do-," you began, but you were suddenly cut off by a familiar black blur appearing in front of you.

You let out a small shriek as Error chuckles to himself.

"Whoops, I didn't mean to teleport that close," Error says with a smug grin.

He totally did. What a dork. You shake your head with a small laugh, straightening yourself out.

"That excited to see what I made, huh?" you ask jokingly.

Error pinches his fingers together and squints.

"Maybe a little bit. You've been up here for the past two and a half hours, I can't help but be a little curious, you know?" he says with a noncommittal shrug.

You roll your eyes and chuckle.

"You are so impatient," you joke, as Error puts his hand on his chest in mock offense.

"Ouch, you wound me," he says dramatically.

"Come on, weirdo, do you want to see or not?"

"I don't know, I'll think about it."

You give him an unamused look, causing a smug smile to spread across his face. He lets out a loud laugh before walking towards the door.

"Fine, fine, I'll look, but only because you asked so nicely," Error says teasingly.

You roll your eyes again and snort out a laugh. Grabbing the door, you swing it open so Error could walk through. As Error started walking past you, you quickly stopped him.

"Wait wait, don't go in yet," you say briskly.

"Do you want me to go in or not? I'm getting mixed signals here," Error says with an amused huff.

"Yes, I want you to come in, but you need to close your eyes first."

Error quirks an eyebrow before squinting his eye sockets suspiciously.

"Why? Is something going to jump out at me?" Error says skeptically.

"No, nothing is going to jump out at you, I promise. I just want it to be a surprise," you say, shifting awkwardly in place.

Error's eye lights scan your face for a moment before he sighs.

"Fine, but if I crash, I'm blaming you," he says.

He uses a few of his strings and wraps them around your wrist, then he closes his eyes. He even puts a hand over his eyes for good measure. You giggle at this, causing him to smirk. He tugs at the strings attached to your wrist.

"Come on, lead the way," he says.

You gently pull him along toward the easel where the painting stood proudly. He shuffled slowly behind you, looking a bit nervous due to his lack of eyesight. You eventually come to a stop, tugging on the strings around your wrist.

"You can open your eyes now," you say, barely able to contain your excitement.

The strings fall away from your wrist and Error takes his hand off of his eyes. You watch as his eye lights look towards the easel and his slight smirk fades into a shocked silence. In front of him stood a painting of Outertale, with delicately painted stars scattered along the canvas' surface. His eye lights flicked to the bottom of the canvas, where, to his surprise, he saw himself, with you right next to him, looking up at the starry night sky. His feet carried him absentmindedly towards the painting, at a loss for words. Paintings usually bothered him because of how much they reminded him of Ink, but your painting felt... different. He could almost feel your heart and soul in every brush stroke. Every delicately painted star seemed to glow with warm intent.

And you made this for him.

"Do... you like it? I made it as a thank you for taking me to see the stars. On this day, one year ago, you allowed me to experience something people only read about in science books... I just felt like I had to repay you somehow," you say, albeit a bit awkwardly.

Error just continues to stare at the canvas, seemingly lost in thought.

"Error--?"

"It's beautiful," he says in a small voice.

You look at him with wide eyes.

"What?" you say, unsure you heard him correctly.

"I said it's beautiful. It's really beautiful," he says with a small laugh.

Your heart melted seeing Error so happy about your gift. A warm feeling flooded your chest, causing your face to heat up.

"I'm glad you like it. I... care about you a lot. You've made me happier in the past year than I have been my entire life, it was the least I could do," you say gently.

Now it was Error's turn to blush. He looked at you wide-eyed, a dark blue hue spreading across his face. You giggle at his dumbfounded expression, causing the blush on his face to increase. He pulls his scarf up around his mouth, trying to hide his flustered expression. He looks away for a moment, allowing the heat in his face to cool down before he turns back to you. His expression had softened considerably, looking at you with a gentle expression.

"You... really made this... for me?" he says quietly, almost like he didn't trust his own voice.

"Well, yeah. You always tell me how much you love Outertale, and it has a special place in my own heart. I just wanted to give you a gift to show you my appreciation," you say honestly.

His eye lights search your face for a moment, almost like he was trying to find some sort of ulterior motive. When he found none, a smile spreads over his face.

"I've never been given anything like this before. I... don't know what to say," he says.

"Well, your expression says it all," you say teasingly.

Error gives you a playful stare, shaking his head with an amused huff. His expression mellows and he looks at you again.

"Thank you," he says.

You give him a warm smile.

"You deserve it," you say gently.

You look at each other for a moment before you turn your attention to the painting again. Your smile suddenly turned sour when you realized something.

"I knew I was forgetting something," you mumble.

Error gives you a weird look as you glare at the canvas.

"What could you have possibly forgotten? It looks pretty good to me," he says jokingly.

You wave your hand dismissively with a small chuckle.

"It's nothing major, I just forgot to sign it. I usually sign my artwork when I'm done with it," you explain.

Error shakes his head with a chuckle. You were weird.

He didn't mind that, though.

"Actually," you say, bringing Error out of his thoughts, "Maybe this is a good thing. Now we can both sign it!"

Error whips his head around and gives you a confused look.

"Me? Why would I sign it? I didn't make it," he says.

"Well, without you, I wouldn't have even seen the stars, so it is only fair that the skeleton who inspired me gets to sign it too," you say with a wink.

Error can feel his face heat up again. God, you were really trying to kill him tonight, weren't you? He feels your eyes on him. He hears you snort out a laugh, making him want to hide in his scarf again.

"Come on, glowstick. Your blush is lighting up the room. Are you going to sign the canvas, or not?" you say, holding up a pen.

Error grumbles something at you before snatching the pen out of your hand. You chuckle at his pouting face as you gently take the canvas off of the easel. Placing the painting on the table, you show him where to sign. Error uncaps the pen, hovers it over the canvas, and stops. His eyebrows are knitted together as his hand shakes above the canvas.

"I'm going to mess this up..." he grumbles to himself.

"No, you aren't," you assure him, "No matter what you do, I'm going to love it, trust me."

He glances at you and sighs.

"Alright... here goes nothing," he says under his breath.

Hesitantly, Error puts the pen on the painting and begins to sign his name. You had never seen his handwriting before, but it was way cooler than you ever could have imagined. He wrote his letters in a blocky fashion, which, much to your amusement, looked like the font used on old CRT computers. When he was done, he looked at you nervously, almost like he was looking for your approval.

"That looks amazing, Error! Your handwriting is so cool!" you praise.

Error shrugs and glances back at his handiwork.

"It's nothing special... but, glad you like it," he says with a small smile.

Now it’s your turn. Error hands you the pen, careful to avoid accidentally brushing his hand with yours. Uncapping the pen, you brush your hair out of your face and place the pen on the canvas' surface.

"Don't mess up," Error says from beside you.

You look at him and give him a glare, which he gladly returns with a smug grin. You roll your eyes and place the pen back on the canvas, quickly signing your name in the best cursive you could manage. Error gives you a hum of approval as you take a step back to admire the newly signed painting.

"Now it’s perfect," you say with a satisfied smile.

You pick up the canvas and give it to Error. His eyes widen, gently taking the canvas and holding it as if it were made of glass. His eye lights scan over the painting as a smile creeps along his face. He looks back up at you and studies your face for a moment, contemplating something. You give him a confused look and he sighs.

"S-stay still for a moment, alright?" he asks hesitantly.

You nod, despite your confusion. You watch as he walks towards you slowly. Once he is right in front of you, he takes a deep breath, holds out his arms, and wraps them around your shoulders.

He was hugging you.

He had never even let you touch him because of his haphephobia, and now here he was, giving you a hug. You desperately wanted to hug him back, but you kept your arms at your side, so you don't accidentally spook him. So, you opted to rest your head on his shoulder instead. You feel him tense up for a moment, his body vibrating and glitching a bit more than usual until he eventually settles into the hug again.

"Thank you... for everything," he says in a soft voice.

"Of course, Error. I don't know what I would do without you," you say with a smile on your face.

You both stand there for a few moments in content silence before Error's hand shifts off of your back. You hear the clink of glass, but before you could question it, you feel a wet paintbrush brush across your cheek. You gasp at the foreign feeling on your face as Error pulls away, paintbrush and canvas in hand.

"That's for calling me a glowstick," Error says with a smug grin before he teleports out of the room with an evil cackle.

"ERROR!"

[the-daiz]

Speed-o’-sound sonic, falling inlove?

Headcannon of how sonic would be if he fell inlove with you Speed-o’-sound sonic x reader genre: fluff, sfw A/N: THIS IS VERY LONG, I REPEAT, VERY LONG!!! Anyhow no joke I’ve obsessed with sonic for like 2 years now. Like non stop, its actually insane, I HATE THAT HE’S SO UNDERRATED MAN, i need more content of him 😞

There are only 2 possible answers: protective OR full blown unhealthy obsession (aka yandere)

me personally, I’m more leaning into the Protective maybe stalker-y instead of the obsessive sonic. Sonic in the show honestly navigates his emotions better than most of the people in my life so…

He’s hesitant at first, almost unsure of what the hell he’s feeling. That little flutter in his chest, that almost ghostly force that pulls his gaze towards you, that sharp yet gentle impale that strikes him in the chest whenever you catch him staring. It almost irritates him.

perhaps he was sick. Or maybe his subconscious was picking up on something dangerous emitting from you that he couldn’t sense…? Whatever it was, it kept pulling him back to you, whether it was to watch you walk through the streets as he hid in the shadows, (he convinced himself that you were up to something and planning for his downfall so he must keep an eye on you.) Or “bumping” into you while you’re grocery shopping. (He blushes when you wave at him) or even pass by your house and watch you as you sleep (wtf??? Well in his defense he only watches you for a minute or two then leaves haha)

When he picks up nothing weird about you, or nothing that would point to you being a threat to him, he starts becoming increasingly frustrated by these new set of emotions. He honestly takes a moment to himself to think, maybe while he’s training or taking a bath in a lake.

Sonic may have lived most of his life isolated in a ninja village, but it wasn’t like he never heard of romance (though he does detest it and deem it a waste of time, space, effort, strength, anything you could think of, really…) and he’s definitely seen it with how comfortable people are with PDA in the outside world.

but when he realizes… DENY AVOID DENY AVOUD, well, only for awhile, when he realizes that denying these feelings weren’t going to do anything but intensify them and even interfere with his day-to-day life. He decided he had to accept those feelings, and inturn, overcome them!

In order to overcome these feelings, he needed to understand why he had them to begin with. So he stalks you. Ten times more than he used to. Watching your every move, every decision, EVERY TURN. Picking up on every little quirk and action you did, the good ones, the bad ones, the embarrassing/awkward ones… and he found he was infatuated by all of them.

“why am I getting so much goosebumps these days… It’s like someones breathing against my ear.” -Y/N

Those minute-or-two stares at you while uou were sleeping, became longer as he memorized every smooth end, bump and feature on your enchanting face.

he tried to approach you after he realized his feelings, but oh, no, he did not expect his heart to be beating this fast, or his face to feel this hot, or his hands to feel this sweaty. When you spot him and give him a very normal greeting. He’s frozen in place and so incredibly hot. He dashes off with no further explanation, leaving you confused, but not questioning too much since he wasn’t the most normal individual from the start anyway.

Everytime he tries to say anything to you, he just stumbles and stutters, then quickly disappears in sheer humiliation.

He decides to just avoid you, but he can’t even do that with the way his mind keeps nagging at him about you. Constantly making everything he sees somehow trail right back to you. Oh do you see that? It’s a black bird! Y/N wore a black coat that one day. Is that a shoe? Mannn Y/N loves [shoe brand name]. *Sonic staring down at his hands* …Y/N has real nice hands- FUCK

One thing tho is that his interest in you doesn’t completely consume the rest of his life, he still can manage his life as normal as possible along with his training and rivalry with Saitama, it’s just a lot more of his time is spent thinking about/stalking you.

after lots and lots of trying , he found that he couldn’t get rid of the constricting feelings in his heart. And he didn’t even want to anymore, he almost adored how it made him feel. How you made him feel.

his love language is acts of service, he’s not good with physical touch or words of affirmation. So instead of trying to have a conversation with you, he starts doing more stuff for you. Watering your flowers when you forget (how does he know you forgot?? Creepy.) sweeping the dust away from your balcony with his speed. Or maybe help you with grocery shopping once he finally stops stumbling over his words as much.

How I’d imagine he’d confess, is if you confronted him first, considering his over all personality and lifestyle, the way he acts towards youis definitely not normal, its not hard to pick up on that. He denies it at first, just for a little while cause he is kind of embarrassed, but after realizing this might be the only way to successfully confront his feelings, he does confess to you, but isnt really romantic about it. More like “Yeah, I’m interested in you.” And just looks elsewhere with his brows arched downwards as usual, waiting for whatever your response might be.

OR

If he stays stuck with his feelings for you to the point he can’t handle not really engaging with them (and I mean like holding hands or being close to you in general…) he’ll confess, again with the same blunt attitude but he’ll be more awkward about it like, I kinda wanna hold your hand sometimes, or stand next to you, or stare at your face, I think?

or he just kills you (and falls into a deep state of depression, Ill write about that scenario later, maybe)

ANYWAY, when his feelings are reciprocated, he’s just like “why??” not because he’s actually confused on why you like him, well, he is a little confused, as he is not the typical lover boy… but he mainly just wants his ego to be stroked by the person he’s been crazy over for the past few weeks.

again, his love language is acts of service, (and quality time now that he can be as close to you as he wants to be), so he’ll mostly do stuff for you, get your handmade gifts, and little stuff like that. He’ll always sneak into your house through your window, even if there was no problem with him coming thriugh the door. And he just stays there with you. Whatever you’re doing, he’ll just sit there and watch you do it, as you talk to him about your day. It makes him feel at ease, and the warmth he feels sprout in his chest when your voice reaches his ears, or when your bewitching eyes gaze lovingly into his, it makes him feel like he’s about to melt at the spot.

one thing you notice is that he often gets a bit sleepy or dozes off when he’s with you, even if its the middle of the day. It shows how at peace and how off-guard he is around you.

He’s not the romantic type so don’t expect him to give you nicknames, unless they’re insults.

as unexpected as it may seem, he rarely ever hurts your feelings. He’s very vigilant, and has stalked you long enough to know what upsets you and what doesn’t. So although he may be protective and slightly possessive over you, your relationship isn’t really “toxic” or even unhealthy.

if you’re a yapper, then you’re in luck, he LOVES listening to uou talk or gossip or info dump, and he actually listens very well. He doesn’t talk much on his own, you guys can have long conversations though, that’s no issue. But long, solemn silences aren’t a foreign thing in your relationship

but also, when he does talk its mostly about himself, his improvements, and stuff, he lovess when you acknowledge his achievements, especially if he didn’t point them out. I told you, he loves having his ego stroked, especially by you.

as for physical affection…no PDA, lets just get that out of the way, but away from prying eyes… He’s desperate, rough, aggressive and so so needyyyy. His kisses make you feel like he’s searching for something in there istg, you have to tap him aggressively a few times on the shoulder to get him to pull away before you suffocate to death. A lot of the time, your kisses don’t just end at short, simple, cute “kisses”, they lead to makeout sessions quite quickly.

He’s the cockiest, most narcissistic bastard alive btw, loves teasing you like crazy… but that’s all I’m gonna say.

anyway he love love loves you and would kill for you, very very literally.

him from one of the latest chapters omg he’s so pretty im kicking my feet and twirling my HAIIRIIRIRIRID

[luvhynjinnnn]

songs of you ✰

"I've never loved anyone the way I love you"

synopsis. songs that remind me of different stray kids members genre. fluff, hurt/angst, comfort, allusions to sex pairings : hyung line skz! x fem!reader these are just drabbles that popped into my head while I was listening to music so they probably aren't the best lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bang chan - "playing games - summer walker & bryson tiller"

you and chan had been dating for about three years. people think that life with a k-pop idol was all glamour and unicorns and rainbows. and dating chan was. until it wasn't. now, he was rarely home. he was always either on tour, or at the studio, or at the gym, or the dorms overworking himself. and he never sent you so much as a text to tell you he was staying over. he'd rather simply let you stay up until 3am waiting.

and god knows that the two of you had this conversation so many times. and every time it ended with him apologizing. saying he won't do it again. until he did it again. and again. and again. that's how the two of you ended up here. in this argument. he'd came home while you were laying down, mindlessly scrolling through social media in an attempt to forget about the ruins of your relationship. walking into your shared bedroom, he began talking about something. some promotions or something. truth be told, you weren't listening. maybe he noticed that. maybe that's how you ended up here. in this exact spot.

you were now sitting on the side of the bed, with him standing in front of you between your thighs. "you act like I'm asking you to drop everything and run off with me!" you shout, your voice shaky as tears threatened to spill over, "did I ever ask you to take me to go shopping in Paris? or go sailing overseas and just drape me in Gucci? I don't think so!" the tears teetering over the edge of your eyes had finally fallen and you quickly dropped your head, now looking at your feet, as you refused to let him see you cry. "all I've ever asked was for you to pick up your phone when you're alone. all I've ever asked was for you to show me some love. you don't show me off to the boys and you never come home anymore." your voice had finally returned to it's normal state as you sucked in a breath. the two of you stayed there, for what felt like an eternity. when he didn't say a word, you looked up and met his gaze.

tears rolled down his face but he didn't move. not one sniffle or whimper left him. he simply stood there. you finally stood and placed both of your hands on either side of his cheeks, using your thumbs to slowly wipe away the tears. "chan.." you whisper before he cuts you off.

"don't do this. don't break up with me. you're my world. my universe. you're everything I've ever needed in this lifetime. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. I'm sorry. I know I've said that before but.. but I truly am. I love you so much. I love you in a way that it hurts." he says, tears still rolling down his cheeks and splashing onto your thumbs. his bottom lip quivered slightly. your heart broke at the sight; although you'd had this conversation before, he'd never given you this reaction.

"chan. I'm not breaking up with you. I'm.. I'm just tired." you sigh. "I'm tired of not feeling like a priority for you. I love you too. more than anything. and you know I'm so incredibly proud of you and your accomplishments. I'm just sick of feeling this way."

"I'll make a better effort. I'm sorry I made you feel this way. and I'm even more sorry that you felt like you couldn't talk to me." he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

you lean into him, pressing a kiss to his lips before whispering, "me too"

lee know - "don't - bryson tiller"

minho had been your best friend for god knows how long. honestly, you couldn't remember a point in your life where he wasn't your best friend. or when you weren’t in love with him. he'd always been a shoulder for you to cry on, arms to snuggled under, a body to curl into while you slept. he was just always there.

today had been no different. today, you'd been complaining to minho about how your boyfriend of four years had been acting different lately. today, you sat on your best friend's couch in his apartment and cried. now, you felt as though you had no tears left to cry. you felt as though you still needed to cry yet you lacked the fluids to force the tears to fall.

your best friend walked into the living room with two coffee mugs in hand. he slipped you one before the couch dipped and he sat down on your right. you took a sip before your face immediately twisted up and your tongue stuck out involuntarily. "what the fuck is this, Minho?" your head turned to face him as you placed the cup down in your lap.

"coffee." he shrugged, "and vodka". he sipped the concoction before placing it onto the coffee table in front of him. cautiously taking another sip, you leaned into him and placed your head on his chest. you felt his entire body tense but he simply sat there. "wrap your arms around me, I'm grieving." you whine.

his heart tugs at the sound of your voice. "but I don't wanna”, he whines as well. you huff and take another sip of the hazardous waste and lean into his chest. “i miss him” you say, barely above a whisper but you knew minho heard you.

he tsks, “why? you’re so stupid, you miss a guy who’s not treating you right. he’s not worth your time anyway” minho wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, you knew that. but you couldn’t help but tear up at his words. not because he was being mean, because he was right. “i know. maybe it’s my fault. maybe if i was a better girlfriend - or a better person - this wouldn’t be happening.” your lip quivers slightly as you speak.

he frowns at your sullen words, “now i know you’re stupid. shockingly, you’re a good person. he’s just a dumbass for not treating you the way you deserve.” he leans forward, careful not to disturb you, and takes another sip of the “coffee” before wrapping one arm around you and gripping the mug in the other. you feel yourself releasing tension you didn’t even know you had as you eased even further into him. that was another thing you loved about being in minho’s presence.

you felt so comfortable around him. something you rarely felt around other people. and minho was so blunt with you. he never sugarcoated things that other people would. “he really only fucked you over cause you let him. fuck him, i guess he didn’t know any better.” he sighed, rubbing his temple.

“he says that he still loves me, minho”

“does he? more importantly, do you? that man didn’t show any effort. i do all i can just to show you you’re special. some days i feel like i’m falling apart but i’m certain it’s your love that holds me together.”

you furrow your eyebrows and shift your body so you were now looking up at minho. “you say he keeps on playing games and his “loving” ain’t the same. i don’t know what to say but, what a shame” he rolls his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. “if you were mine, you wouldn’t get the same. if you were mine you would top everything”

perplexed, you tilt your head. “what are you talking about, minho?”

“he’s the only reason that i’m feeling this way. i could treat you better than he can” he places his hand on the small of your back, flashing you a half smile. you search his eyes for any bit of ingenuity until you realize that there is none. “what are you saying?” you cock an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing. “why are you so dense? i’m in love with you. i’ve never loved anyone the way i love you.” he huffs.

oh.

oh.

he was in love with you? your best friend, the one that you’d been in love with for longer than you could even remember, was in love with you? your eyes slowly widen at his sudden confession and you struggle to find the words to respond. “min..” was all that came out.

“if you don’t feel the same, we could always blame this on the alcohol and pretend it didn’t happen.” he whispers with a sad smile.

“but i wanna remember this” you say before closing the gap between the two of you and leaning forward to kiss him. it was better than you could’ve ever imagined. sparks flew and it just felt right. like your lips were only ever molded for each other.

“i love you, lee minho” you whisper into his lips between breaths.

seo changbin - “snooze - sza”

much similarly to the rest of the 3RACHA members, changbin was rarely ever home, meaning you rarely ever saw him. but the only difference was that he cherished the moments he had with you. whether it was when he spoke to you on the phone for 5 minutes on his break, or when he spent his off day at home.

but no matter what, changbin always reminded you that he’d do anything for you. even when you’d been going through your rough patches, like now. to be completely honest, you had no clue how this even occurred. it began with a disagreement. but all you knew was you were afraid that he’d break up with you. he hadn’t spoken to you about the disagreement or came home since it happened.

so when you surprised him by coming to the studio after hours, he couldn’t help but admire you. from his desk, he watched as you sat on the couch and scrolled through your phone, occasionally fidgeting with your fingers as you sat in each other’s presence. he couldn’t believe how you could be so beautiful doing such a normal thing. he hated fighting with you, you were his everything.

somehow, you sensed his eyes burning holes - affectionate holes - into your head. you glanced up and immediately met his gaze. “yes bin?” you said, watching the way blush quickly crept up onto his face. without saying a word, he stood up and sat beside you on the couch. you assumed he’d begin speaking about the issue but apparently he had other plans. his big hands immediately went to your hips and pulled you onto his lap. you yelped at the sudden move but you continued fidgeting with your fingers, looking down. “i’m sorry” he sighs, “for everything. i’m sorry that we had this disagreement and that i haven’t come home.”

you slowly look back up at him, analyzing his face; his beautiful yet tired face. his curly black hair fell across his forehead with his glasses pushed all the way up, resting on the bridge of his nose. he was wearing a black compression shirt with grey sweatpants; his eyes locked onto yours.“i love you.” he suddenly blurts out.

you blush at his confession, “i know, you’ve told me that everyday for the past two years”

“you know i’d do anything for you, right? mobbing, scheming, looting, hide your bodies. as long as you’re dreaming about me, there’s no problem.”

his list of crimes didn’t faze you, as you were used to him constantly reminding you that he’d do anything for you. you nod, silently. “i don’t have anybody, i’m just with you. tell the truth, i look better under you. i don’t like when i’m not with you. when we miss moments together”

he grins at your words, clearing his throat. “i can’t lose when i’m with you. how can i snooze and miss the moments? you’re just too important. i thought you were gonna leave me.” he sighs again.

“you was scared i was gonna leave and I'm the main one cryin'? just trying be your everything, your main one riding.”

“you’ll always be my world. i couldn’t imagine my life without you. i’ve never loved anyone the way i love you.” he pouts, jutting his bottom lip out.

you press your lips to his.

“i love you too bin”

hwang hyunjin - “favorite mistake - giveon”

hyunjin had been part of your life since you were in the sixth grade. well, not your life, per se. more so, your older brother’s life. hyunjin and your older brother, felix, had become friends in the seventh grade, and the rest was history. they were only a year older than you so you’d always gone to the same school as them, which resulted in the three of you always walking to school, walking home, and hanging out after-school together.

and you’d had a crush on him ever since. when you first met him through felix, you immediately thought he was cute. but the more you got to know him, the more you found yourself attracted to him. his personality, his looks, everything about him was the embodiment of perfection.

you never thought anything much of your crush, knowing that he didn’t reciprocate and that felix didn’t approve. when you once complimented hyunjin’s looks to felix, he immediately shut you down.

“i said no. i don’t want you liking hyunjin, end of story.” felix narrowed his eyes at you. “why not? hyunjin’s cute and you don’t even know if he likes me back!!” you whine, rolling your eyes.

“because hyunjin is my friend and trust me, i know for a fact he doesn’t like girls younger than him.”

and you respected felix’s wishes. as far as he was concerned.

once your freshman year of college rolled around, you noticed a change in hyunjin’s behavior. whenever he came over to hang out with felix, he’d always slip away and meet you in the kitchen. you’d talk about everything and nothing until he had to return to felix before he got suspicious.

hyunjin found himself feeling comfortable in your presence. he enjoyed the deep conversations and how much you had in common. you both loved to paint, and dance, and read. you were so similar yet so different and he loved it.

which is how he ended up kissing you on the couch of yours and felix’s shared apartment during your weekly movie night. felix had gone to the bathroom and the two of you had been talking about the scene that just passed. when you turned to face him, his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. you leaned in and kissed him and he gladly accepted it.

you quickly pulled away when you heard the bathroom door swing open and the boy emerged from it. you were thankful for the dim lights of the living room, so felix wouldn’t be able to see the blush on your face.

the next day, hyunjin came over during the afternoon. you looked at him with a puzzled expression, “felix isn’t here. you know he’s at work for another hour”. hyunjin walks into the house regardless, uninvited might you add.

“i’m not here for felix. ever since you kissed me, i can’t stop thinking about you.” his eyes darted all around the room, and he ran a hand through his already tousled hair, “i really like you. and i know you like me too. i’ve never loved anyone the way i love you..”

“hyunjin, i do like you too. but..” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “i promised felix i wouldn’t get with you. he’d hate me and you too.” he suddenly clutched his chest with his hand and groaned, “the girl i love doesn’t want me??”

you giggle at his drama, “we’re like Romeo and Juliet except it’s not our parents keeping us apart, it’s my stupid brother.”

“who says he has to know?” he shrugs.

“what are you getting at?”

“we can be together in secret” he whispers the last part as if you aren’t the only ones home. “felix doesn’t have to know. nobody has to know, it’ll be our little secret.”

it took some convincing but you eventually agreed to see hyunjin in secret. what could you say? the boy was very convincing. neither of you wanted him to leave so you settled on the couch to watch a movie.

“i remember what happened last time we were on this couch” he whispers, wriggling his eyebrows. “oh really? i’m not sure what you’re talking about, can you remind me?” you tilt your head, feigning innocence. he smirks before placing his hand on the back of your neck, leaning in and closing the gap between you.

it’s just as amazing as the first, yet somehow better and you can’t imagine ever kissing anyone else. and that’s how it all began. the constant meet ups when felix was at work or in class. the secret dates. the anonymous flowers and gifts being sent to your apartment. felix was curious, but not suspicious. he was happy you’d found someone and that (as far as he was concerned) it wasn’t hyunjin.

one day, felix came to you, seemingly distressed. “have you spoken to hyunjin lately?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. shit. you shake your head vigorously, “no, i haven’t seen him. why?”

“he’s been acting weird. he’s been bailing on our hang outs and he’s not texting me back. he’s been.. distant” you felt for your brother, you really did. he was worried about his best friend, and you knew the truth. but the truth would break him.

“i’m really sorry lix. i haven’t seen him, though.” he offers you a sad smile and retreats to his bedroom.

later that day, when hyunjin meets you at your favorite coffee shop, you talk to him over two iced Americanos. “hyune.. i don’t know if this is the right thing to do. felix is upset. he says you’ve been distant and he hasn’t seen you. i don’t want to take you away from your best friend”

he takes your hands in his, “we both know it’s wrong but you’re still coming over. even when you’re gone, the feelings just grow stronger. should leave it alone but you’re still coming closer. we both know it’s wrong, can’t keep this for long.”

your stomach churns at his words, because you know he’s right. even though you both know that you shouldn’t be doing this, its as though your gravitated to him. and if it’s wrong, you don’t want to be right..

“look at what you do to me, our secret's safe so you're my favorite mistake. look in my eyes, can you find the lies? do you feel alive?”

you look into his eyes, they’re pleading. he’s pleading for you to not end this. you glance away.

“look in my eyes, do you mind the lies? do you feel alive?”

you nod, “i really love being with you, hyune. but i can’t bear hurting felix. either we tell him or we can’t be together.”

he looks at you with sad eyes but nods slowly. “i understand. he’s my best friend and i don’t wanna hurt him. you’re so caring.” he smiles.

he leans in and kisses you for the last time as a secret couple.

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a/n : wowowow.. i feel like these drabbles progressively got worse 😭 if you couldn’t tell, they were supposed to be reciting the song lyrics lolol. can you tell that hyunjin is my bias ? 😭

[queenie-official]

Chapter Seven: ‘Something New’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

a/n: i’m back 🤭 this is a lot of fluff y’all so i hope you eat it up 💪💪 it’s bit long because i sort of combined chapter 7 and chapter 8 since it made more sense for it to be in this one compared to what i have planned out. anyways that’s all i’ve got say love you all 💋💋

seven days, that’s how long you had with Anakin before the responsibilities of the world would catch up with you two. seven days then your honeymoon would be over. thankfully even though the first day was a little bit of a rough start it was what you needed to begin truly getting to know each other. and that’s exactly what you’d been doing, over the last four days you’d learned a lot about him- like his favorite color was light blue. and he wasn’t the youngest but in fact had a little sister making him the middle child, which honestly explained a lot.

you were currently taking a stroll with him in the royal garden, conversing and listening to him explain his family dynamic a bit more thoroughly. Anakin had told you how he’d purposely mess with his older brother to keep him on his toes since in his words ‘he’d be to stuck up and a complete stick in the mud’ if he wasn’t there. which prompted you to then ask what would he be now since he was here.

“that’s what my little sister is for, she looks up to me. practically a mini me but smarter” you snort a laugh at that and he smiles brighter. he truly had a pretty smile. “you sound like you adore her” you say with a soft smile and he chuckles “i do but never tell her i said that.” you quirk a brow “why not?” you ask curiously. “because she’d never let me live it down” he states a bit dramatically but completely serious and you can’t help the smile that never leaves your face only growing with each interaction.

“so Obi-Wan can never escape you then” you voice the thought out loud and Anakin laughs, everything about him you’ve been finding incredibly charming. “oh yea he’s never going to have it easy- Ahsoka is like my apprentice of mischief. star pupil” he said with a mischievous smile leaning in towards you as he speaks making you blush slightly. “only pupil” you point out and he rolls his eyes “for now.” your brows knit together in confusion “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“time will tell” he says with a shrug, you scoff and think about pressing more but decide to drop it. you’re both quiet for a moment, silently enjoying one another’s company as you continue the walk in the garden. the warm sun and floral smell from all the flowers creating the perfect bubble. it was your idea, coming on this walk- in fact you insisted he’d join you so you could show him your favorite spot. he seemed reluctant at first but you quickly realized that was just him messing with you and not how he truly felt. you felt your mind wonder back to his sister “it sounds like she cares about you as much as you do her, so how come she wasn’t at the wedding?”

“my mother was afraid she’d cause a scene- which to be fair i wouldn’t put it past her, she can be a bit….snippy and she’s not afraid to speak her mind it was just not the right time or place for that.” you let his answer hang in the air for a bit, in all honesty she sounded like a good person. a free spirit for sure but still a good person “she sounds like she’d make a good leader” you offer as a response. “i suppose” he says with a wrinkled nose, clearly not agreeing with the thought. “i personally can’t see her as much more than a bratty teen.”

“i’m sure that’s how Obi-Wan feels about you” you counter and he can’t help but laugh “well then i guess i got a taste of my own medicine” you giggle at the thought and begin to lead Anakin across the bridge. you where close to the spot you wanted to show him now, just a bit more of a walk but Anakin had stopped. when you turned to see why his footsteps ceased you where met with him looking over the bridge out across the water admiring the view of the fish swimming up the stream and the way the sun reflected across it. you take a moment to admire him first before walking back over and standing beside him to look over the stream yourself.

“i wish i could meet her, i feel like id love her” it came out soft, almost like you hadn’t fully meant to say it out loud. you could feel his eyes on you now, and then a sudden warmth on your back. his hand was pressed against the small of it, you had to fight back the way your cheeks burned at the action. “if she warmed up to you i think she’d like you as well” he says and you finally force yourself to meet his gaze. “as of right now i’m guessing she’s not to keen on me” you ask with a tilt to your head and he bites back a smile. “very much so” not surprising you did technically take away her brother.

“she’s the main reason i agreed” you blink a few times trying to process what he meant. “huh?” he pulled his hand from you and you had to fight a frown at the loss of contact as you watched him lean an elbow on the bridge railing “well i wasn’t really given a choice- but the reason i was so compliant in the matter, and i know this is selfish. was for her not my kingdom.” you mimic his actions leaning onto the bridge railing yourself as you listened to him speak carefully.

“the kingdom of Tatooine is falling, already on its last leg. i knew if i went along and everything went well then we would get the support we need from Alderaan, which would mean my sister would not have to bare witness to what would happen if we hadn’t gotten the proposal and that was the only reason i was remotely okay with everything.” you felt your heart tug at the confession, that familiar feeling of guilt resurfacing. “you’re a good brother Anakin” he smiled at the sentiment. a small silence filled the air before he spoke again.

“could you tell Obi-Wan that, he seems insistent on the fact i’m nothing but a bad influence” clearly the conversation had gotten a bit to emotional for his liking judging by how quick he was to play it off. you smile at that and pull off from the railing “well i never said you weren’t a bad influence.” you retort as you begin to walk off the bridge and continue the original intention of this walk. “ouch, you wound me” he places his hand over his heart in mock offense “honestly me a bad influence? doesn’t even begin to sound true.” he was smiling as he said it unable to take himself seriously with that statement and you can’t help but laugh “you are full of yourself.” he shrugs “i think i have every right to be” he says smugly and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“so what does Tatooine need most?” you ask, promptly changing the question as you both round a corner, now in a much smaller section of the garden. the flowers where much more overgrown here the only clear pathway was leading to the center of some pillars. you turn to him with a smile, this was what you wanted to show him. it was your favorite place to hide when you where younger and upset. you’d stumbled across it on accident but it quickly became your favorite place.

he raised a brow but smiled regardless, taking the time to look around before following you up the path. the center of the pillars was clear just a bunch of grass. you plopped down on the ground opting to lay rather then sit after all your dress wasn’t exactly the sitting kind. he stood over you for a moment looking down and contemplating something, you weren’t sure what but you decided to just brush it off once he followed suit and laid down beside you. “what do you mean” he finally asks in response to your question. “i know our coronation isn’t for another few days but we could begin preparations now, and then once we are officially crowned we can take immediate action. so what in your opinion does Tatooine need most?” you explain, turning your head to the side to face him. tracing over his jaw with your eyes and trying to memorize each detail of his face from this angle as he thinks. it was strange how quickly you found yourself falling for him, but he made it easy and you honestly weren’t mad about it.

“the route of our problems is lack of funds. we have a high crime rate, not for lack of laws but lack of ways to in-force them.” he begins and you move your gaze back upwards, staring out at the passing clouds. “go on” this time he turned to look at you “the only jail we have is the palace dungeons, outside of that there’s nothing. and there chalk full already. we’ve thought of building more but all of the money rightfully goes towards feeding the people” he continues and you nod, turning back so you both where facing each other now. “so funds and military support would be most welcome?” you ask carefully wanting to make sure you got what he was implying.

“yes, of course food and supplies would also be a good help but with money they’d be able to buy their own” you hum a brief response before giving him an affirming nod “understood, then we have our priorities” he raises a brow, a small half smile appearing on his face “just like that?” you smile back “well we are to be king and queen, our word is law.” not entirely true, you both did have your own set of rules and regulations to follow. but overall you two where at the top, the people look to you not parliament. “i guess being a king isn’t as bad as i thought” he joked.

a comfortable silence fell once more, only this time you where staring at each other when it happened. you hadn’t realized just how close he’d laid next to you until now, his entire body pressed against your side. faces only inches apart, if you moved any closer you’d kiss. the thought made your stomach erupt with butterflies, it wouldn’t be your first kiss since technically that happened on your wedding day. however it was different then than now. now it was you wanting to kiss him and not a requirement, you felt uneasy. not use to this type of thing, you force yourself to break the eye contact looking back up to the sky before starting a conversation for a distraction.

“tell me more about Tatooine- the good parts what’s it like there?” you ask him and he laughs.“Tatooine has very few good things in my opinion- for starters we’re a desert kingdom, which means there’s sand for days.” he says annoyed and you turn your attention back to him with a raised brow “not a fan of sand?” you ask and bite back a laugh. “i hate it. it’s course and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.” you couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore especially with how serious he meant it, brows furrowed like he was cursing the sand in his mind. “well remind me to never take you to a beach” you say in between giggles, it was his turn to roll his eyes at you as you kept laughing. “there is one thing that i love about Tatooine- aside from my family” his sentence pulls you back and you force yourself to calm down. “what’s that?” he relaxes more once you ask and smiles as he speaks “the races.”

“races?” he nods and begins to explain “we have horse races, i was a rider- against my mother and fathers wishes but they never exactly stopped me either. it’s not like i took place in the gambling side of things, i just like the adrenaline of it.” you watched as he spoke with the enthusiasm of a small child. it was cute and his eyes sparkled “have you ever won?” you wonder out loud. “oh yea just about every time i’ve raced, ill miss it” he says rather solemnly and that made your heart ache.

“what if we introduced the races to Alderaan? it seems like a harmless enough tradition” you spoke before really thinking and he snapped straight up like you’d just told him the best news in the world before he quickly shut himself down not sure if you where being serious. “honestly?” he presses needing confirmation before he allowed himself to be to excited. “why not, it could be fun a way to unite our kingdoms- people from Tatooine can come here to compete and vice versa.”

he’d kissed you then. it was gentle but passionate, a smile on his face the whole time. it made your head spin, face burn but you liked that and when he pulled away you did your best to act unaffected not quite ready to express yourself.

The next two days with Anakin where just as sweet, you both where getting along great. opening up about any thought that came to mind. it was wonderful and then something changed.

you weren’t sure what caused it but he was acting different today. more shut off and distant, it hurt. this was the last day of your honeymoon and somehow you’d messed it up without even realizing. all day he’d been brushing you off and keeping as much physical distance as possible, your head was spinning trying to find where you’d gone wrong. each conversation you’ve had with him running on repeat looking for even the smallest inkling that you’d crossed a boundary of sorts but you kept coming up empty. you tried asking him what was wrong as well wanting to just rip off the bandaid but he simply said nothing was wrong.

talk about emotional whiplash, if nothing was wrong why was he acting this way. why would he not even let you get near him. you’d let him be alone for about an hour before you couldn’t take the pit of anxiety anymore and decided to face him once more. This time you weren’t going to stop asking him until you got an answer, so you made quick work to hunt him down. which was surprisingly easy compared to the last time he’d disappeared. you found him struggling to walk up the stairs, you where quick to rush up to him not even giving him a chance to process it was you who now stood beside him. “Anakin what happened?” you ask concerned reaching out to help him but he moves away from your touch. “i’m fine” he says curtly and you’re taken aback briefly but recover “are you confident in that fact because-“

“i said i’m fine!” he shouts and you go silent letting your arms fall to your side as you begin to pull back, feeling yourself mentally shutting down. you see a look of regret on his face when he finally looks at you, as well as a sheen of sweat on his forehead. actually now that you got a better look at him he was pale, sickly so. he took a deep bated breath before proceeding up the stairs.

“i mean it i’m fine.” you scoff at him before following behind, he was heading in the direction of his room and you where going to make sure he got there safely. “could you just leave me be” you roll your eyes and cross your arms “i’m not going anywhere Anakin so would you just let me help yo-” you watch as he began to fall backwards, in a panic you do your best to catch him only to realize just how heavy he was the second his weight hit your arms and you fall down with him.

he was out cold, you on the other hand where now stuck underneath him. at least you’d broken his fall.

you wring out a wet cloth before placing it on his head that rested in your lap. you had gotten the attention of your guards and made them carry him to his room as you got a hold of the royal physician. that was two hours ago, now he was resting much more peacefully after he’d been woken up to take some medicine to help fight a fever. The Flu was what the physician said it was, and he’d insisted you not be in the room with Anakin in fear you might get it as well. as if that would stop you, he was sick and you wanted- needed to make sure he was okay. if you got sick in the process then oh well.

you watch over him carefully, running your fingers through his damp sweaty curls. what irked you about all of this was that he said nothing, suffered in silence instead of asking for your help. you thought you guys where finally getting somewhere. finally trusting one another- liking one another, learning to love one another and then he does this. ignores you, pushes you away when he needs you most. you see his eyes twitch and your mind goes blank, waiting patiently to see if he’d finally fully wake up. at least enough to have a conscious conversation.

soon enough his eyes do flutter open, looking around himself briefly to process his surrondings before looking at you. “you said you where fine” was the first thing out of your mouth a frown gracing your features and he had the audacity to smirk. “i was” he huffed, and you had to fight the urge to flick his head. “i’d believe you if you hadn’t passed out right after you said it” he remained silent after that statement and so did you. upset with his actions and not wanting to make a scene while he was sick you figured it best to just quit speaking entirely.

“why are you doing this” you raise a brow and he sighs knowing what you where going to ask “caring for me i mean” you feel your nose scrunch up, what a stupid question in your opinion. “I am your wife, it is my job” he closed his eyes at that “i didn’t think that applied to us” he said simply. “what?” your brows knit together “the duties of a married couple” he adds. it triggered you a bit, why would he think you wouldn’t want to help him. “you’re sick, was i just supposed to stand to the side and watch you suffer?” he opens his eyes and shrugs. “the vows i said may have been empty when i made them but i still made them nonetheless and i for one keep my promises.”

“so you’re only doing this out of obligation?” he asks and you frown “no-” he shifts slightly so that his head is more propped up on your thigh, closing his eyes and letting out a soft groan like it physically pained him to move. “then why? because you like me?” he smiles as he asks- unbelievable he could not possibly have the energy to be teasing you right now. “i’m doing this as your wife and nothing more” you say but it’s clear you aren’t being entirely truthful with that statement and you can tell by the look he gives you he’s not buying it.

“i think you just don’t want to confess you like me” he chuckles but quickly regrets it, closing his eyes again in pain. “if i did i would tell you” you say and begin to run your fingers through his hair again and watch as he relaxes. “well make sure you shout it” he mumbles. “i’m sorry?” he opens his eyes again, scanning over your face before answering “when you tell me you like me, shout it so i can hear you and know you mean it.”

“you’re delusional” you huff but can’t hide your smile and he’s quick to mirror you. “that’s probably the fever” he says with a shrug before allowing himself to doze back off to sleep in your lap.

part 8

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06

AHHH OKAY HERES CHAPTER SEVEN LOVES💋💋 side note i could not resist the urge to include Anakin’s hatred for sand- it was too good of an opportunity 😭 not to mention idk about you guys but i am completely with him on that ☝️as someone with sensory issues sand is one of my worst nightmares💀 anyway i hope you huns enjoyed Xx<3

[moodywyrm]

Do you have hc for farmhand! Sevika that are nsfw… cause I’m a whore

only writing this because I feel so unbearably needy and sub and touch-starved I'm crying. we got the full length yoga pants, hoodie, blankets 1 and 2, and all four stuffies on deck. chubby reader as usual. @pinknightsinmymind I have another contribution baby <3

she's absolutely a pleasure/service dom, most of the time. I imagine she does like to be the sub (emi has convinced of Sub Sevika), but that takes a lot of working up to. remember, she comes to the farm pretty closed off after a terrible stint in the city. at the beginning of y'all's sexual relationship, which is her first relationship where she's really, truly cared about her partner, she just needs to be able to take care of you.

fucking insatiable when it comes to giving head. I'm talking making out with your cunt, absolutely fucking soaked and sloppy, there is slick in her hair at this point. the first time she went down on you she came untouched in her boxers. honestly didn't even know she could do that, but finally getting to taste you and have you completely at her mercy after a fucking Year of pining? yeah she didn't stand a fucking chance.

after that, takes literally any opportunity to eat you out. doesn't care if your sweaty from fieldwork, it drives her fucking crazy. also doesn't care if you're hairy, baby loves hairy pussy. I said it and I stand by it. first time she sees your pussy, she goes a little bit insane because god you've been hiding this from her? y'all wanted each other for so long and she could've been shoving her face in between your thighs for how long? she's gotta make up for lost time.

doesn't let up until you've cum at least – at the absolute minimum – three times. anything less is a damn shame. needs to have you shaking and fucked out before she even considers letting you go. same thing applies to any other sexual act.

speaking of other sexual acts. her strap. holy shit her fucking strap.

dark purple. 7 inches. girth as all hell. veiny. can be a breeding strap. attached to an expensive leather harness that Sevika takes such good care of. even got special leather cleaner for it. also must add. she didn't have this one before she got with you. specifically picked this one out with you on one of your semi-regular trips to the city, alongside a few other toys. this one's her favorite though <3 next to the black strap that also has a side that goes in her <3

when it comes to fucking you with her strap, she always has to prep you. extensively. im talking at least an hour with her mouth and fingers, getting you all ready and worked up to take her. does she know you could probably take it sooner than that? yes. does she love the ritual of getting you so unbearably worked up that you cry and scramble to hold onto her when she finally pushes in? abso-fucking-lutely.

loves literally any position to fuck you in, but has a soft spot for missionary and having you ride her. for different but similar reasons.

missionary because she loves how you look beneath her, dependent on her, how she knows she can take care of you in this position. plus being able to watch your tummy squish when she manhandles you into similar positions like a mating press is just so fucking good for her.

riding her, whether she be laying down or sitting up, because she adores seeing you use her for your pleasure. it took a second for you to feel entirely comfortable being more commanding during sex, so whenever you want to ride her, she's so incredibly proud and horny. there's just something about having you astride her, taking your pleasure with no shame, no reservations. it's fucking beautiful, and she thinks you look like a goddess every single time.

loves scissoring with you, btw. always with her on top bc that requires some strength and why does she have it if she ain't gonna use it to make her pretty girl feel good. honestly didn't really consider scissoring when she was in the city, contrary to popular belief. mainly relied on oral and strap. meeting you was a fucking Revelation.

I mean it. she almost came the Second she pressed her pussy against your sloppy, warm, wet cunt, clit still throbbing from your orgasm. she doesn't know if any sensation will ever compare. fucking loves feeling you cum right against her, leaking all over her.

as hot and dirty sex can be between you two, it's also incredibly fucking intimate. this goes back to you being the first partner Sevika ever really got with that she truly, 100% was in love with, down to her fucking bone marrow. she needs to let you know that she loves you more than anything, and sex helps her do that. there's so much hand-holding, eye contact, hushed 'I love you's, kisses pressed against necks, etc. etc. everything she does, she does for you, and she needs you to know that. will even light candles for you, fucking you And making love to you in a pink-tinted room. nothing but the best for the love of her life.

that being said. baby fucking loves to take you around the farm. doesn't care how exposed it is. behind the greenhouse? check. behind the farmhouse? check. on the porch of the farmhouse? triple check. on the grassy patch above the pond? quadruple check. she does not care where it is, she just need her woman at all times, however you'll let her have you.

sometime she'll intentionally show off while she's working the farm, knowing just how needy it gets you. can't even begin to count how many times you bringing her lemonade on a hot day turned into you on your knees, dressed rucked up enough to stuff a hand down your panties as you ate her out, her big strong hands gently holding you against her cunt.

also loves your pretty lil dresses, you only started wearing them more when y'all got married and Sevika insisted on taking over the bulk of the farm work. Lets you play the pretty lil housewife, even though you still insist on helping around the farm. Anyway the dresses: yeah she fuckign adores them. loves it when you wear the off the shoulder ones with no bra, bc then she can just yank and expose your gorgeous tits, ready and waiting for her mouth.

also just. housewife kink. I will not elaborate at this time but im 100% certain of it.

farmer sevika smut! I will warn y'all now and by warn I mean but my foot down: this au is gonna have a lot of fluff. there will be smut, sure, but im a fluff girl to my core. this is basically my stardew valley fantasy. I hope y'all will love the fluff just as much as the smut.