#yan!sunday

[cloudshuffle]

What are some of the nasty/creepy things they do to reader in the nobility au? Like the book sniffing thing

arranged by least to most creepy >:)

nobility au

boothill

something about boothill tells me that he’s not very capable of being nasty. or more like he’s not interested in it? he’s a straightforward guy, much preferring to meet you face to face and be in your presence, even if you do always tell him that you’re busy! he knows that’s untrue.

the most boothill has done was follow you around, sussing out your daily schedule with ease. he is a bounty hunter, after all, and a high-profile little miss such as yourself is no trouble for him at all. he tells himself that he’s just another bodyguard, protecting you from the shadows, but all the while he longs to be out in the daylight, enjoying the town with you.

boothill’s not so much creepy than persistent to me, like a puppy left out in the rain that you really can’t adopt but keeps returning to paw at your door. and eventually you have to give in some time, which brings him more joy than anything else in the world.

aventurine

yes, apart from the book sniffing, i imagine he does a lot of sniffing besides, like burying his nose into your hair or kissing your neck and inhaling deeply. (isn’t it said that women apply perfume where they want to be kissed?)

if we want to talk even creepier, maybe he once snuck into the laundry under the guise of ensuring the maids were working and nabbed a piece of your clothing. doesn’t need to be your underwear - i imagine he’d be happy with something more innocent, like a glove. it’s oddly romantic, the way he holds it to his face while sleeping, like it’s your real hand he’s holding.

in the grand scheme of things, i think aventurine isn’t that bad. it could really be worse.

sunday

he watches.

truly, he stands in corners and shadowy alcoves, doing nothing but watching you go about your day. he pops up in places where you least expect him, like, say, the stables. and when he’s cooped up inside the palace with paperwork to do, sunday contents himself by watching you from the windows, laughing and chatting with friends. you’ll often feel someone’s gaze prickling on the back of your neck, but when you look around, you won’t be able to find anyone there. one of sunday’s many talents.

you’d better bet there’s been at least one occasion where he watched you take a bath - god knows how, but at least he did it with a lot of embarrassed blushing on his part. not to say that that’s stopped him ever.

there’s something very special to him about being able to inspect you like an unrefined gemstone under a magnifying glass. 10/10 would not recommend him in your house.

dr. ratio

now hear me out. he is not only a nerd, he is also a nerd with an overinflated ego. meaning that he can, and will, gaslight you into thinking he’s normal.

this sounds ridiculous but stay with me.

you’re having your typical one-on-one lesson with dr ratio. aventurine isn’t present as usual because he’s just going to be a nuisance, so it’s just you and your demanding tutor. he gives you some time to write up a short paragraph, and you lower your head and focus on the assignment.

ratio comes over to see what you have so far. he makes a brief comment. you nod and move to make changes. and suddenly you freeze, feeling fingers on the back of your neck.

you face feels hot. had you imagined it? wasn’t that a completely inappropriate move on his part? should you speak up?

as the professor moves toward the front of the classroom again, he acts like absolutely nothing just happened, raising an eyebrow. “are you feeling alright? your face looks warm.”

and you shake your head quickly, fanning yourself in embarrassment. no way he’d have the nerve to do something like that to do you. after all, he was your tutor… he’d be smarter than to jeopardise his position like that.

[ddarker-dreams]

n darling hurting blade's feelings as she should .

[suiana]

@bi-panicatthedisco

aight I've seen ur dedication 💗💗💗

what do u want ro see next

[mengziyifan]

[mineralshitter]

man. (LoR star of the city spoilers technically)

digital art is always so much fast than physical! imagine having to draw those damn chains manually....

[caimitos]

i need hr and accounting drawn and quartered

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

HAPPY FUCKING SUNDAY MY LITTLE IRIS!!! I HOPE THE SUN IS SHINING AND THE BRAIN IS BRAINING MWAHHH i am here to present you another silly little tiktok hehehe u mentioned nikolai as one of your blorbos so this was JUST RIGHT it made me laugh... maybe a bit too much........... i hope u enjoy LOVE U

https://www.tiktok.com/@pencil.slipped/video/7331589407524408618

- @softgirlgonehaywire

HELLOOOOOOO MY LOVELY SUNFLOWER happy. monday ….. almost tuesday …… hey hey did u know that sunflowers turn to face each other when there isn’t any sunlight around??? idk if that’s true it’s just smth i heard ISN’T IT SO SWEET THOUGH :(((( they’re so cute i’m weeping……

PHDJDJFUFJ THE TIKTOK???? MICKEY????? 😭😭😭😭 thank u it broke me a little i think OK BUT THEY WOULD GET ALONG WOULDN’T THEY…. gojo has a thing for murderous meowmeows <333 nikolai is one of those blorbos that i havent actually Met yet but i know a bit abt him and i love him oh so much….. i also have the biggest weakness for jester-inspired characters so i simply can’t resist him :’3 i am nomnoming the nikolai content thank u my dearest mickey for ur tribute

ALSOOOO i’m using this ask as an opportunity to respond to ur other letter hehe :33 i have a lot to say sadly i’m also scatterbrained & sleepy but i’m gonna try to remember everything !!! rubbing my three remaining braincells together just for u <33

ok first off some ari lore … my fave season is autumn w summer close behind BUT since spring is ur favorite we can have a spring wedding <33 in knight!reader’s honour too!!!! they’ll be there somewhere… lurking…… sunbathing……. the meowmeow of all time

AND AND when it comes to coffee and tea i’m not picky!! i love them both!!! no matter what kind!!! i like any and all coffee combos, just depends on my mood it’s the caffeine addiction i think but my overall preference is probably black w just a lil bit of cream <333 it has to be super duper hot bc lukewarm coffee makes me deeply uncomfortable (super duper cold is fine though!!) and i love love tea i couldn’t live w/o it…… my only pref is that i like to pour some cream in my black tea, and some honey in herbal tea :33 WHAT ABT U MICKEY I HAVE TO KNOW the signals in my brain tell me u like cold coffee more than warm coffee….. but i don’t even know if u drink coffee at all…… ALSO I NEED TO KNOW UR FAV KIND OF TEA i’ll make it for u in my brain every morning 🙏🙏

moving on to until dawn ARI/MICKEY GOING STRONG AS ALWAYS ashley is my least favorite character 😳😳 i just feel like everyone else is sooo girlypop or silly or at least a lil queer but she’s just kinda There……… for the chris romance………. and ofc i can’t forgive the emily slander!!!! we need to protect our wife mickey :((( nobody gets her like we do i fear

AND AAAA A REMAKE !!! WAITTTT THAT’S SO EXCITING MORE INTERACTIONS TOO…… ok but screaming while playing it was soooo real of u if i ever played it on my own i fear i wouldn’t survive AND THE SOUNDTRACKS!!!! god mickey i just remembered i still haven’t listened to the ones u recommended before :’33 i have them all written down so trust that i’ll get to them hehe BUT THESE ONES….. gosh i’m a little enamored w them….,, the theme from the lighthouse is soooo atmospheric i can practically taste the Vibe of it all…… it’s the kind of theme that would give me immense anxiety if i watched the movie LMAO but it’s somehow so pretty too yk??? the murky sea vibe…. AND THE THEME FROM THE WITCH goshhhh it’s genuinely so bewitching pun intended IT’S SO ENCHANTING???? just so vivid…. i alr know his work for until dawn is gonna make everything sooo much more intense and authentic i’m so excited mickey …… when u play it u gotta post abt it so i can feel included PHDKDBDJDB

ANYWAY BSD YAY YAY :3333 i feel like u mentioned having finished it all in another letter… i think i might’ve forgotten to respond to it 😔😔 forgive me and my scatterbrained tendencies KNOWING U ENJOYED IT MAKES ME SOOO EXCITED i’m a little afraid that i’ll fall out of my perpetual jjk phase if i watch anything else but literally the MOMENT i start watching bsd again i’m running over to ur blanket fort!!! i’m so excited to compare favs and moments we like hehe…. nikolai is just so sillyyy and i was really moved by that One panel where he takes off his mask and tells atsushi that he’s perfectly sane i must’ve been like 15 when i first saw it??? blew my mind i think it kinda set the tone for the villains i enjoy now … nikolai crawled so kenny could sprint… etc etc……. silly little queer villains who don’t remember what regret feels like anymore <3333

ALSO MICKEY u like tecchou right….. obv i don’t know much abt either one yet but i alr love jouno a lot!! once again we’re the duo of all time >:33 AND MANNNNN….. if u ever start writing for bsd just know i’ll be the first in line to eat it up !! i just know ur dazai would be the most lovesick catcoded little trainwreck ever 🥺🥺 an image of prince!dazai just flooded my brain oh no

one last thing!!!! before i forget!!!!! a little birdie told me that u started reading no longer human….. 👀👀👀 and what u said abt the mc being autistic made me think of another existentialist book where the mc is commonly interpreted as being a sociopath or something similar but he’s Literally Just Autistic. to me. there’s lots of room for interpretation but the coding is very much there … might not be very good rep because he does kill a guy lmao but i love him he means the world to me :((( the book is ”the stranger” by albert camus btw it’s short and u can read it online here i ADORE camus’ style of writing sm…. the vibe of it all….. the main themes are isolation + what it means to be human and. idk it just really really moved me… esp the very last line…. :c it’s very dear to me!! would highly recommend hehe

ok that’s all i think…, i always worry that i forgot to mention something or comment on something hhhh my brain really is just . a bit scattered all the time T_T BUT ILY MICKEY thank u for always checking in my sunniest little flower i hope u have dreams so sweet u wake up smiling <33333 pressing many tiny kisses on ur nose and cheeks and forehead mwah mwah mwah

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #01. YANDERE SUNDAY!

𐙚 topic。．thinking bout yan sunday treating his imprisoned darling

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。yandere themes, degrading, filthy, MINORS DNI．．

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。sunday brainrotting rn i need this man if it means i have to skip boothill bb ill get u on ur rerun (´•︵•`)

SUNDAY likes to feel superior to you.

Can’t reach a high shelf? Sunday will tower over you and reach what you wanted to get, smiling at you endearingly, subtly reminding you that he’s much more taller than you are. Can’t cook? He’ll cook up a 5-star course while letting you know he can do it better for you. Especially in bed while he forcefully makes you say you love him, he’d relish in the amount of control he has while tinkering with your little moans and whimpers as he pleases.

Be it in even the smallest trivial matters, or when he’s in bed- he’ll find a way to tell you that you hold nothing over him, that you are pathetic under him, he is your angel and you will be his follower. You only have to do what he asks you, no, commands you to do.

His favorite way of showing his authority is when he feeds you— he’d force you to look up at him while sitting under him between his legs, one hand holding a leash connected to your collar, and the other hand reaching from the table to smear a ton of dessert cake on his fingers. When you beg him to stop, that you want to eat properly, you won’t be able to stand up straight until he allows you to— calling you a pathetic whore for sucking on his cock the whole day when he’s forcing you to.

“My, what a pathetic little slut you are, sweetheart- you just keep on sucking my cock like it’s your meal. I suppose it makes sense as you haven’t eaten.”

But he loves it when you obey, when you suck off the whipped cream from his pretty fingers— calling you a good girl, lovingly patting your head. Your reward? Being fucked dumb while he coos that you’ve been such a sweet girl for obeying him, all the while ramming in his thick cock to pump in his seed into you.

He just loves seeing you obey him- it makes him go crazy more than he’d like to admit.

[draconic-desire]

Gosh i just loved your Sunday fic.. 😫

Im wondering what about a naive type darling? With so much isolation, it has made darling insecure. Darling thinks Sunday deserves a better woman and just ups and leaves Sunday when he isnt home. But ofc is soon found not long after 😋

ohhhh so personally i imagine this happening after sunday uses the harmony one too many times on poor reader…you never saw it coming, never would have thought sunday would hurt you despite being isolated for so long. any thoughts you had about escaping, even going outside to see friends, are obliterated. sunday becomes your whole world.

Yan!Sunday x Naive!Gn!Reader

You’ve been standing in front of Sunday’s door, fist raised and poised to knock, for twenty minutes now.

For what feels like the millionth time, you lower your hand, worrying your lip.

He’s been in there all day. Sunday is a busy man, his schedule constantly filled with meetings and Family affairs, but never too occupied that he would ignore you for an entire day.

Your mind fears the worst; even those initial days of being drowned in the Harmony, before you realized Sunday was trying to help you adjust to your life with him, is preferable to this. Did you do something wrong? Who is he in there with? Is he ignoring you?

Has he…grown tired of you?

The mere thought chills your heart and fills your veins with ice as you take a step back, inhaling sharply.

The wooden door before you is polished to a fault, bright enough that you can see your faint outline. It bitterly reminds you of how inferior you are compared to him, a mere speck of dust, a fleeting shadow on the wall.

You start to spiral. Surely Sunday, the most handsome and sought after man in Penacony, could have his pick of anyone—so why would he settle on you? Why did he bring you here, trap you in this mansion, keep you by his side, if only to throw you away in the end?

Did he never love you?

Why does that thought hurt you so much?

Heart pounding and tears blurring your vision, you quickly turn and flee, your knock forgotten.

~*~

It has long grown dark on the streets of the Golden Hour.

The normally bustling city is slumbering, the only light provided by the plethora of flashing billboards that never sleep. The few individuals you have passed are either drunks stumbling home or the stray Intellitron. You’ve been walking aimlessly for hours, wiping away tears and fruitlessly searching for a way to escape to reality.

After all your time mulling in your sadness and insecurities, you have come to the conclusion that you should relieve Sunday of his care of you. He’s much better off without you, or rather with a better individual than you. He should be dating royalty, a celebrity, an angel. The type of person who would have knocked on that door, would have strutted confidently into his office and sat directly into his lap to—

Another pair of footsteps echo behind you.

You almost don’t hear them at first, but you most definitely see the haloed shadow on the wall in front of you.

“And where do you think you’re going, (Y/n)?”

You immediately freeze, your breathing becoming erratic and shallow. His voice sends little butterflies pounding against your chest, begging to fly to him.

“Do you really think this pathetic attempt to escape would succeed?” A hand wraps around your waist, spinning you around to meet golden eyes rimmed in violet. You expect them to be filled with anger, perhaps even loathing, but you’re shocked to discover they are brimming with nothing but thinly veiled panic.

His grip tightens when you don’t respond immediately. “Answer me, (Y/n).” His voice cracks as he says your name again. “Where have you been?”

Words clog in your throat. “I—I thought—you were—you didn’t want—”

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You weren’t thinking. I believed we had moved beyond your futile attempts to leave, that you understood that you are mine—”

“But what if I don’t deserve to be yours!”

The two of you freeze in the wake of your outburst. His breath hitches as you lower your head and whisper softly, “I thought you stopped loving me the same as I love you.”

For once, you’ve caught Sunday off guard. His beautiful gaze widens in shock as he truly takes in your form—shivering, tears rolling down your cheeks, nails digging into your palms—and realizes his mistake.

You left because you thought he didn’t want you.

The mere idea baffles him. Standing before him is the most beautiful individual he has ever seen. Every fiber of his being screams for him to lock you in a birdcage and throw away the key—you are a precious treasure, meant to sing only for him. He has created you to be the perfect devotee in his very image.

And all of his efforts have succeeded, because you said you loved him.

His anger and fear immediately melt into softness as he holds your face between both hands, his forehead lowered to press against yours. “Oh, darling, no. You cannot fathom the adoration I harbor for you, the multitude of praises I wish to preach each day in your name.”

His voice takes on a nearly holy reverence, but his eyes shine with an untamed desire. “There is nowhere you belong except for by my side. Finding you missing this evening nearly tore my heart out. You must never venture out again, do you understand, my precious dove?”

You sniff and lean into his touch, a smile parting the river of your tears. Yes, that’s right. That’s what the Harmony said before, too: your purpose is to please Sunday, to serve Sunday, to live for Sunday.

Why would you ever doubt his love?

Why would you ever want to leave him? What a silly idea.

You think you feel a tiny pull at the back of your mind, a hook that wants to tether you to reality. But a quick slash of a knife severs the line, leaving you floating in a sea of multicolored bliss.

“I’ll never doubt you again, Sunday. I love you.”

Sunday’s lips curl into a smirk as he lifts your chin and examines the rainbows dancing in your eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/n).”

[moonsaver]

Finished penacony. Sunday. Oh dear oh dear.

Yan!Sunday who seems obsessively off with you for the early start of something like a relationship. Calm, but underlying warning tones. One wrong word and you might tip him off too much. You've learned one way to decode his emotions are his wings. They tense up whenever you mention something.. unpleasant. Its a warning. You cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence. The silence passes, and his wings relax. He turns to you with a calm smile on his face. You barely squeezed through, this time.

Yan!Sunday who's just a bit delusional. He deludes himself into thinking about righteousness, and you're some sort of reward for him, for him to keep, and shelter, and nurture, like a christmas gift pet, but something more tender. Tender like a bruise, anyway.

Yan!Sunday, who seems.. to be slipping indisputably. In the corners of your eyes, in private, where he meticulously plans everything, every second where you breathe. He helps you dress and laces up your clothing just as he normally does, but huffs, and insists on doing it again. The first few times, he redid it only twice. His frustration would bleed through his fingers the more things proceeded in time, tightening the lace so much, your limbs almost went blue. He apologizes through gritted teeth, and you forgive him. It doesn't help the fact he practically suffocates you with the way he kisses you, though. His lips land on yours a bit too harshly, and you wonder if he actually hates you. Those thoughts dissipate when he relaxes more into it, though.

Yan!Sunday, who stares at you unblinking, waiting for you in the dreamscape, in the reverie, anywhere. Robin's.. departure has put him under more strain, so just for his sake.. ignore the way he tightly grips your arm, fearing it'll snap.

Yan!Sunday – you can't leave his watchful gaze. The last time you did it, he practically forced you to walk through the real dreamscape, deathly shivering as the atmosphere almost froze you, being forced to walk through unyieldingly harsh and twisted paths, doors never staying in the same place, being forced to use rough traversing methods, the dizziness of the memoria almost feverish. He waits for you at the end, a much gentler version of him. You fall into his arms, sobbing and weeping, and for once he handles you with care. Gently wiping your tears, stroking your hair, his hand guiding the back of your head to his shoulder, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. You notice just how much more warmer he feels in the dreamscape, not just due to the cold atmosphere. His wings gently flutter on your face. Let's leave now, he says. I trust you've learnt, my dear.

Yan!Sunday, who decides that maybe keeping you in the alternate dreamscape, Golden Hour, would be much more preferable. He seethes watching you be eyed by everyone – officials, businessmen, representatives, whoever it may be. He gently lulls you into the dream fluid, kissing your hands, up to your arms, neck, til your cheek, until you finally fall asleep. He places you down and gets to work in a second. When you panic, not being able to wake up, he's right beside you in a heartbeat, telling you there's just been a slight error.

Yan!Sunday, who would even go as far as to construct an entirely new dream for you and you alone. No one would be allowed to visit except him. He tells you it's for the better. Everyone lies in Penacony. Stay put and let him take care of this. Let him take care of you. Of everything. You dont miss the way his hands harden their grip around your waist. His gaze settles gently on yours. It's a harsh contrast to his eerily peering one, in reality. If you even remember what it's like being there, of course.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Farm-boy x Reader

'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.

(AN: Had fun with this one!)

Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.

Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.

Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.

"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.

"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.

Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.

As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.

"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.

"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.

"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.

"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.

You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.

"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.

"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.

At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .

"That's why I've got so many siblings."

[cloudshuffle]

Butler Sunday doting on reader… wiping the corners of their mouth with a handkerchief or helping style their hair when the other maids aren’t around. Relishing the gentle touches and proximity to them even if it gets him in trouble… I need me a little freak like Sunday. I love the way you write for Jing Yuan too. Two of my favorite characters mwah I am being fed so well. <3

nobility au / fae au

ahh i’m so glad you’re enjoying them!! they’re definitely up there on my favs to write <3

butler sunday’s so fitting for domestic situations like this. he loves just watching while you go about your day, doing normal things like getting your hair done and your face powdered, or reading quietly during your free time in the library. there’s a sort of intimacy in it that he relishes in, and it also feels good knowing that you trust him and feel safe in his company.

(never mind that if he wasn’t butler to the prince, he’d never have gotten the opportunity to meet you. that’s one thing he’s grateful to aventurine for, at least.)

while we’re here i need an excuse to talk about fae jing yuan. he’s been exiled from faerieland for a long time now (on whose authority, you’re not sure), and he’s been wandering around like a lost dog for the past few years (read: decades) trying to find the perfect place to call home.

when he sees you for the first time, jing yuan starts getting the idea that home might not be a place, but a person.

for a fae that’s been living adjacent to mankind for so long, he’s picked up a lot of human mannerisms, but none of the manners fae should have to treat a human.

for example, don’t scare the poor thing.

he’s a little offended when the police come tramping around his stomping grounds. don’t they know that there are creatures living here? they’re not very respectful or gentle with the plants either. he doesn’t know, of course, that after scaring the living daylights of you, you made a report to the police, saying that there’s something in that abandoned place - a wild animal or something, and could they please clear it out.

[uvuyai]

© uvuyai 2024. . . ~ ღ

–tw. Fem reader, of course this'll be ooc, bondage, mentions of public sex, humiliation, manipulation, gaslighting(???), cockwarming, size difference, suggestive by why call it that when this is just straight up smut, choking, cervix fucking, basically punishment sex, yan Sunday(?), stockholm syndrome, breeding kink/pregnancy kink, presumed non-con(?), dub-con, somnophillia, dacryphilia,

ღ ~ 𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Who shows you off in public as his wife/girlfriend. Having matching charms to further prove it. Some females would be jealous of how you managed to pull the one and only Sunday. He's all prince charming. Taking care of your injuries if you fall. When he lets you speak to other people, he may forget he let you talk to them which leads to him placing a hand on your shoulder and his fave darkening with a smile then dragging you away. He shows you off to hos family as if he had won the lottery or gotten new jewelry. But you are his precious pearl anyway,

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Is really cruel. He only cares about the humiliation he finds funny from you. Wrapping you up in red or black ropes. Tugging on the rope that rubs on your cunt, making friction on your clit to further drench the ropes. He would punish you even if it was the smallest mistake or thing ever. Let it be just closing your eyes due to exhaustion and overstimulation he would be quick to wrap his hand around your neck, squeezing at it as he rams himself deeper into your pussy, the tip of his dick hitting home into your cervix.

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Is a big fan of public sex. Cock warming would be at the top of his list. Just to see you shudder and get embarrassed as you let out unwanted whines and moans as his cock twitches and brushes up against that one spot.

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Likes to tease you. In restaurants, he would have a vibrator in your panties and pressing down on your clit with it. He only lets you wear skirts or dresses even if you don't prefer them. At home, he lets you wear shorts as it's an easy way to fiddle or fuck up into your pussy.

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Is really a pervert! If you're just minding your business, he'll just force make you get into some suggestive position involving the both of you. If you're just walking past him, he'll just trip you purposely and move his head beneath your skirt. He'll even use your dirty panties and show you your cum stained panties, blaming you for making him dirty them in the first place.

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Who has a breeding kink/pregnancy kink. He wants you to be plump and fully with his child inside your womb walking around his room barefoot. He fucks you around the house everyday in every inch of the place. Once he's done he'll just plug you up with a vibrator to keep all of his seed inside. He likes mating press and doggy style when breeding you. He likes it because he can easily tower over you and get easy access to your face just to lick your tears away and kiss you deeply.

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Is very sneaky:3. When he breeds you non stop and when you finally get the strength to move around, he places birth control pills around the room. But it's really prescribed sleeping pills. He uses this as an advantage to breed you in your sleep. The pills would have you out like a light as when he fucks, you show no sign of restraint.

𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦! Is very cheerful on the inside when you start looking at him lovingly and with hope in your eyes. He knows he's broken you down to the girl he wanted you to be. It's not like he kidnapped you. He still gives you punishments here and there. It would be less harsher as he would fuck you softly but still overstimulates your ass. He loves to see you get worked up when you feel like you've done a bad thing and start crying. In response, he just lets you ride him till you collapse. He gives you a soothing aftercare and makes you agree that you are his, it's a small world for a small little adorable thing like you. Anyone could just crush you under their feet and just leave you there to wither in pain.

He just needs you to stay with him and you'll be safe. Just with him and the life in your stomach.

[ceruark]

opening sequence

synopsis: you escaped to dreamflux reef thinking your captor wouldn’t be able to reach you, but your so-called savior lied to you. notes: yan! sunday x gn! reader. words: 1,424 cw: general yandere themes - brainwashing, and implied obsession, possessiveness, and abduction. disclaimer: major 2.2 story quest spoilers.

You spent nearly a year planning, making connections, figuring out who would keep quiet and who would tell on you in a heartbeat— nearly a year biding your time.

There was a booth in the corner of Dreamjolt Holstery that often went forgotten, so it was quite easy for messengers from the Dreamflux to overlook you when reporting to Gallagher. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was planning, and it was even easier to blackmail him using what you knew.

Take me to the Dreamflux, you demanded, or I'll damn us both.

He commanded Death to take you then and there. You disappeared without a trace, a few weeks before Robin did.

It was damn near impossible. But you'd done it. You'd gotten out.

The two months you've spent in Dreamflux Reef have been some of the best in recent memory. You spoke to strangers without worrying if you appeared too friendly with them. You roamed aimlessly, unconcerned with making it back to Dewlight Pavilion before a certain hour, or feeling the weight of a nightingale's unwavering gaze on your back.

For the first time since you met Sunday, you lived freely.

Hearing of the Astral Express's arrival only heightened your hopes. They never turned down a passenger, and if you asked to travel with them at the end of the Charmony Festival, you could get out of Penacony. You could escape his grasp for good.

The final step of your escape seemed all the more reachable when you heard through the grapevine that Gallagher was planning to lead the Express Crew to Dreamflux Reef. When you asked him if it was true, he confirmed it. When you begged him, for the umpteenth time, not to bring Sunday, he swore he wouldn't.

He lied.

The thing about being subjected to the gaze of the Harmony countless times is that, eventually, you become bound to it. In the Dreamscape, there was a constant tugging pressure in your head that reminded you your mind wasn't solely your own anymore, that reminded you of the person who had done this to you. The pressure would become more taught the further you wandered from him, a mental leash that ensured you stayed at his side.

The pressure dissipated completely once you arrived in the Dreamflux. You almost forgot what it felt like.

Almost.

You're sitting in a bar when it happens. You and the bartender watch, entertained, as a drunken Pepeshi guest attempts to play a game of Egyptian Ratscrew with other patrons who get him worked up just so he can bet higher and fatten the pot. He's just ran out of cards and is furiously yelling at the winner, a damning finger thrust in their face. You and the bartender laugh, and when you make eye contact with her, she winks at you.

You open your mouth to make a sly comment about the situation, but you choke on your words when a sharp pain stabs through your head. You double over, tumbling out of the barstool and onto the floor. The bartender and a few other guests run over to you, clamoring above you. Their words are static in your ears until the pain subsides.

Left in its wake is a familiar tugging sensation, far too loose for your liking.

Fear and adrenaline flood your veins. You shoot to your feet and push past them, your urgency enough to prevent them from trying to stop you. You rush toward the back of the building and shove at the back door that leads out into an alleyway.

You run for what feels like an eternity, but you don't feel the cord getting any tighter. If anything, it feels like it's getting even looser, and the mere thought terrifies you. You’ve changed directions several times now. How can he possibly be advancing on you?

In your frightened haze, you fail to recognize that there's a figure in your path, a figure that brightens at the sight of you.

You crash into them, sending you both tumbling to the ground.

"Sorry," you mumble, already getting to your feet. You don't have time to feel bad or make sure they're uninjured. You're ready to take off into a sprint again when a hand wraps around your wrist, and a melodic voice calls your name.

Your blood runs cold, and you slowly turn to face the woman sitting on the floor. Robin stares up at you in a mix of relief and worry.

"So you are here!" She exclaims excitedly, using her hold on you to bring herself to her feet. "I figured, after my own experience, that the same thing must have happened to you. Are you alright?"

Your throat goes dry. She doesn't know— she has no idea. Even if left unsaid, Sunday made it clear through implications that the worst of the Harmony would be reserved for if you ever said anything to Robin, so you never tried to. You don't have the heart to tarnish the adoration she has for him, anyways.

You force a smile. The thread unravels, growing slacker by the second. "I'm fine," you say, and you sound anything but it. You gently remove her hand from your wrist. "I have to go."

"Wait!" She catches you again by the shoulder, and urgency flares up in your stomach. You don't have much time left. "Can we talk? I could use a familiar face right now."

Your stomach sinks, and you place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Later," you lie, "I promise."

Your hand drops to your side. You turn away from her, unable to look at her crestfallen expression.

The tension releases. A chill runs down your spine, and your mind feels fuzzy.

It's too late.

Only Robin's voice could make the devil's name sound beautiful to your ears. You turn just in time to watch him return her hug, one hand coming up to hold the back of her head gently, the other rubbing soothing circles into her back as she starts to cry.

His golden eyes pierce you, pinning you in place.

You tear your gaze away from him and look at your feet. The ground swims beneath them, swirls of pink, orange, and yellow contaminating the edges of your vision. The bone-deep terror grows muted as the Harmony hums in your head. You're euphoric, nearly hysterical.

Sunday releases his sister and pulls at the thread connecting you. Drunkenly, you stumble toward him, closing the few feet of distance between you. Your arms come up around his neck, and his arms snake around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him. He presses a kiss to the side of your face. His lips tickle your ear when he speaks.

"Tell me," he whispers. "Was your disappearance planned by Gallagher?"

You know better than to try and lie in this state. "No."

He hums. His hold on you tightens. You can hardly breathe. "Did you ask him to bring you here?"

"Yes," you choke out. You bury your face in his shoulder. You can't bear facing him right now.

He sighs and presses another kiss to your cheek. "Dearest, you know I only want what's best for you."

You do know, and that's what hurts the most. No matter what he does to you, and no matter how much you suffer, you know he only has good intentions. You know, undoubtedly, that he loves you. Somewhere, beneath the meticulousness and the paranoia, is the charming, sweet man you fell for.

A sob escapes you. Behind you, Robin coos, moved by what she believes to be a heartfelt reunion between her brother and his lover. Sunday shushes you and brings one hand up to your head. Gloved fingers card through your hair, a comforting gesture.

"It's alright, dove." He gently takes your head between his hands and removes it from his shoulder, looking you in the eyes. "You and I will have all eternity to make up for the lost time."

There's not a hint of cruelty in his face, but something fervent— almost manic— gleams in his eyes. Your voice trembles. "What?"

He closes his eyes and presses a tender kiss to your lips. When his eyelids flutter open, rings of pink and orange surround his pupils.

"Rest now." He says against your lips, and your limbs grow heavy. You lean into him, and one of his arms comes up to support your back. His fingers dig into your spine.

"When you wake, we shall be one."

[mengziyifan]

xuan lu

[harmonysanreads]

Yan Sunday’s darling looking him straight in the eye and biting into the halovian burger.

It is a threat.

“Sunday, look here for a second.” the Oak Family Head nearly failed to win the wrestle against the maelstrom of noises clamoring around the Golden Hour and distinguish your call from them. It was not his honed senses that provided the sole aid this time, rather, it was the syrupy lilt that dripped from your words and rendered him momentarily off-guard.

That is a weakness he'd like to believe he no longer surrenders to, while it is true he unquestionably would have if one was to focus on an earlier point of his life, Sunday would prefer to believe his tastes have since matured and his restraint has hardened. Indeed, Sunday is no more defeated by sugary pastries and cream-filled buns — where he crumbles to incorrigible pieces inside are moments like this, before a different species of sweetness. That, is another discovery altogether.

While he's left to collect and fix the bits back into rational human behavior, you revel in his predicament, as you do every time he lets slip an extra scrap of leniency. You don't hesitate to praise him for his cruelty, but he's always suspected you to be the sadist. A devil, a siren, an apparition that'll curse him to smithereens — there's no end to your list of virtues. It's not that he complains, that would be hypocritical as he's both the causation and correlation to your spirited schemes.

It's one of those burgers, but Sunday has always cherished a belief of it being the failed offspring between a donut and a burger instead. He's seen them his whole life (not that he's ever indulged in one of them) which is why the apparent normalcy of its appearance didn't ring any alarm bells in his head initially. One look into your pointed stare tells him that you have a purpose, but his attention is instead riveted to the movements of your lips.

You start by taking a bite out of the bread coated in cream, smearing your lips with the delicacy in the process before clumsily licking the cream with a swipe of your tongue ; Sunday stands frozen, thoroughly perplexed. Then, you lean towards the middle section occupied by two wing-like shapes, checking once to confirm that he was still watching before sinking your teeth into one of them.

... Oh.

It takes every atom of his body and every bit of his soul to continue playing statue, to not let anything more than a strangled breath escape and allow your face to be painted in the colors of smug satisfaction for months to come. Knowing you, he doubts you're ignorant to the fact that this time you've really hit a spot. So he stands there like a sculpture of disbelief, watching you finish the cursed burger for five whole minutes as vehicles fly past and by-standers cast questioning looks at the mute spectacle. By the time you're sated, he feels as though he's aged ten years.

“Mr. Sunday will pay for it, thank you!” you chirp at the confused shop keeper.

Just when he thinks his misery is over, you pull your ace ; licking clean the residual taste of the burger from your fingers, knowing painstakingly well how much he dislikes it. This level audacity short-circuits Sunday's brain and he's unable to do anything but replay the image of a stray sprinkle still clinging to one corner of your lips as you skip away in search of more ways to torture him senseless.