ᝰ MEAN SUNDAY !
✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ 𓂅 sunday x fem! reader ⋆ he is mean and makes you ride his shoe :(
CW; praise / degradation, dry humping on his shoe, orgasm denial
your hands tremble as you wipe them down on your skirt, sweat coating the lines of your palms, creating the illusion of glitter splattered all over them. a silent curse echoes in your mind as the man before you taps the tip of his shoe on the ground, a signal for you to look up at him.
“m’sorry.”
he releases a breathy chuckle at your apology, his pupils dilating as you look up at him from your position, your knees digging into the sky blue carpeted floor.
“what for? to my knowledge, you did nothing wrong.” he responds calmly, his words laced with sarcasm, “your words, not mine.”
as the words sink in, a heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach, and a wave of dread washes over you. your head shakes slowly, and your teeth sink into your trembling bottom lip, a futile attempt to hold back the rising tide of fear and guilt. tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as the realization hits you that you've disappointed him, and you're unsure of the consequences that follow.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad… just wanted to spend time with you.”
his head cocks to the side, a faint crease forming between his brows, his annoyance evident yet overridden by an underlying amusement. with a devilish smile playing at the corners of his lips, “didn't mean to make me mad? angel, you did just that.”
heat rises to your cheeks, lowkey feeling proud that you've managed to provoke a reaction from him, especially since he's usually a patient man. "s'not it... you've just been so busy, I wanted you to relax." your eyelash flutters hopefully, trying to diffuse the tension with your reasons.
“by locking me in my room so I’d miss the appointment with my guests?”
you purse your lips, head lowering once more, shame creeping back as you feel your body shrink under his gaze. although he's smiling, the tension in his expression and words betray his true feelings. you've never seen him so angry and cutting, and it stings more than you anticipated.
your head jerks up suddenly, chin tilted upwards, the skin on your neck stretching at the pull of his hand wrapped around the roots of your hair. he tugs firmly, forcing your eyes to meet his, and your lips part involuntarily as your breathing quickens. as you stare into his golden eyes, you spot a mixture of frustration and lust swirling within them, intensifying the tension between you.
“since it’s your first time, I’ll go nice on you, hmm? how’s that sound?”
he crosses his right leg over his left, the sole of his shoe hovering directly in front of your face, the tip barely grazing your cheek as he releases his grip on your hair and leans back against the couch.
“go on then, get yourself off.”
your own head tilts to the side in confusion, clearly baffled by his comment and unsure of their meaning. you search his face for any sign of an explanation, “what? you think you’re getting my cock tonight? after what you did this afternoon? you’re adorable, angel.” he gestures at his shoe with his eyes, and it hits you — he wants you to ride it.
your heart rate increases, pounding in your chest with each hitched breath you take, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you look for confirmation, but all he does is give you a glance before picking up his phone and dialing his guest.
his eyes bore into yours when he notices you're still in the same position, and you feel a shiver runs down your body as his gaze holds yours, compelling you to act on instinct. without thinking, you scoot yourself towards his shoe, feeling a rush of heat as you spread your legs apart, allowing it to settle between your thighs, body hovering inches above it.
he looks away once again, fully engrossed in his business call, his free arm settling on his raised lap, white-gloved hands smoothing over his dress pants mindlessly.
your thighs tremble as you take one last look at him, a mix of nerves and anticipation egging you on. with a shaky breath, you sink yourself down slightly, just enough for the tip of his shoe to come into contact with you. you bite back a whimper as the hard material press snugly against your clit, making you jolt.
despite having done little more than rock back and forth timidly, your hands instinctively reach for his leg as you feel your own start to weaken from the intoxicating sensation. your eyes flit nervously between your arousal and his face, trying to gauge his reaction to your actions.
soft whines escape your lips as you start to give in to the embarrassing and degrading situation, knowing that this’ll satisfy him tremendously. he barely spares you a glance when you slide further onto his shoe, the rough laces on it making you jolt again as they come into contact with your clothed clit. your brows twitch when you feel your juices seeping through your panties, coating his shoe. the knowledge that you’re ruining it has your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing more wetness to gush out in the process.
completely lost in lust, your hips rock on its own accord as your mind switches to autopilot, surrendering fully to the heat building inside you.
“sunday…”
he releases a silent curse under his breath, his fingers twitching underneath his glove as he watches you bite back your moans, distracted by the sensation of his shoe against you. nothing his guest is saying over the phone registers in his mind; his attention consumed by the sight of you. his eyes would flicker over to your face every few seconds, and he feels himself strain against his pants uncomfortably. oh, how he wanted to fuck you on the spot, but he needed to teach you a lesson.
the knot in your stomach tightens, and your head falls forward, your forehead landing on his thigh as you cling on for dear life. your hips continue to grind down, seeking more of the intoxicating high his shoe provides. a soft yelp leaves you when you feel him subtly adjust his feet, curving them up just enough for the tip to tease at your entrance.
you don’t bother hiding your whines any longer, his name tumbling from your lips uncontrollably like a mantra as you grasp onto the feeling of your near release.
“my apologies, mr. —, but I’ll have to call you back.” a soft plop sounds from the couch before you, and your head lolls back once again, pulled by his hands on your roots. another pathetic moan escapes you as he leans down, his face closer to yours.
a smile plays on his lips as he watches for your reaction when he pushes his shoe upwards against you, eliciting a gasp of his name, and his eyes glimmer in awe. he feels like his dick is about to explode any second, and the feeling of your thighs clenching around his shoe only adds to the intensity of blood rushing down south.
tear streaks form on your cheeks as your eyes threaten to close, overwhelmed by the euphoric sensation coursing through you. the knot in your stomach finally reaches its tipping point, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.
“cumming—”
sunday snickers lightly at your reaction before pulling his feet away, returning them to a wide manspread. your fingers dig into his knee, and a desperate whine echoes through the room. your head shakes, eyes wide and glassy as you gaze up at him, silently begging for him to grant you your release.
“oh, don’t cry, angel. it’s what you deserve for messing up my schedules.”
he stands and pulls you up with him, guiding you to lean against his body by wrapping his arm around your waist. you collapse against his chest, hands reaching out to grip at his sleeves as your body gives out from exhaustion and sensitivity.
apologies tumble from your lips repeatedly, and he laughs softly before silencing you with a gentle kiss. his lips meet yours tenderly while his hands massage your nape with care, a total opposite of his mean words from before.
“now go to bed, and we’ll deal with you again tomorrow.”
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Learned recently that the Xianzhou Luofu apparently uses a different script than Belobog and that's so cool, I love little worldbuilding things like that. ♡
And then I nearly keeled over imagining Gepard going for a daytrip with Caelus and Asta to the Luofu; Caelus is taking Asta so she can run errands (and go shopping, of course) and Gepard is tagging along because Bronya found out he'd been falsifying records about his paid time off-
(Bronya: You have two years of overdue pto?! Out!
Gepard: But-
Bronya: Go on vacation or something! Out!!)
-and. It's all a little overwhelming for poor Geppie.
Everything is so weird and different there. A part of him is curious and enjoys it, but he just doesn't really have that same pioneering spirit as his sisters and it's not as fun for him as it would be for them. He wishes they hadn't been busy and could've come along, he'd feel a lot better with Serval and Lynx. He can't even read most of the script, he's mostly reliant on Caelus and Asta or the translation function they put on his phone for him. He kind of just wants to go home. He misses his city.
And then he catches sight of a head of blue hair in the corner of his eye, snickering and messing with the script on one of the signs.
Gepard: Wh- You!?!?
Sampo: !!! :D
Sampo grins wide and darts off, Gepard launches after him out of habit, and somehow, even with Gepard being new and alien to the Luofu, Sampo always seems to stay juuuuuuust within sight, just close enough not to lose him or get lost completely.
Gepard is lead all the way out near the starskiff building grounds when he finally has to stop, because Sampo somehow scales the damn wall like a nasty little lizard, gets all the way to the top, then winks at him over the roof and tells him he'll see him later, have fun, give Serval a kiss for him back home!! Gepard flips him off even though Sampo has already turned around and left skxjkdkdmfkf
But then he finally sits down and looks around him and realizes that oh. He feels kind of. Better now. More on even footing. Stable ground. There's no snow, but the high steel walls and corridors here are more familiar to him than all the wide open space and brightly colored buildings of the main tourist section he'd been in. The background hum is quieter and gentler here, and it reminds him more of Serval's shop, as opposed to Starskip Alley's throngs of chattering people and fast-flying ships. The little pangs that made his chest feel hollow have eased up. ♡
Caelus, carrying a Certain Courier Package: ...We've heard from him, yeah.))
((Asta: Sorry it took us so long to get out here! I found this sword that Arlan would like and-
Gepard: It's fine, don't worry about it. Hey, did you know Koski is running around out here?
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The Adaptation That Shall Not Be Named aside, I had an idea for an interesting way you could represent ART in a visual medium: it's cameras.
We know that, in any visual medium, what The Camera (be that literal in film or figurative in animation) chooses to show and focus on is important. Its the primary way the piece of media communicates to its audience, and the framing of a scene tells us a lot about how we're supposed to interpret it. What is on screen and how it's on screen convey authorial intent.
Take all that, and turn "authorial intent" into character expression (in this case, for ART). A conversation between Murderbot and ART that would traditionally be shot-reverse-shot becomes shot-ARTPOVshot, so both shots would be of Murderbot, but one would be from The Camera and one would be from ART. Even though the subject is the same, the difference between them could show us something about ART in the same way a reverse shot shows us something about any other character.
To me its like those shots from a monster's POV in horror movies, where one second you're with your protagonists, the next you're watching them from a far off angle between some blades of grass, shaky cam, ragged breathing. It's a classic, even a cliche, but it does the job of conveying the sense of unsafety, of Something Out There Watching Them, of monstrosity, of something feral and dangerous. All without needing to see the monster. What if that type of shot was all we ever got of a character?
(Also, in all honesty, some of my favourite meta about this series is how it's in conversation with the horror genre. ART and SecUnits being the type of characters that would be The Monster in another story, or from another perspective, is compelling to me, so i'm drawing on that a bit here. The idea of characterising but not visualising ART by taking pages out of horror monster cinematography? I just think it's neat.)
Anyway, you could also do all the sci-fi Augmented Vision stuff with it too. ART POV shots where we watch it pull up a feed tab over the camera feed and replay a section of audio, or check Murderbot's diagnostics, or look at Some Code Or Perhaps A Graph. ART POV shots that are broken into multiple feeds showing different things. ART POV shots that give you the sense of it being textually present without it being physically present.
You could use some of this for Murderbot itself, if you leant into how its drones are an extension of its awareness. You could even use it in a similar way to how Murderbot uses its narration, narrating less when it's upset as well as leaving out major details. What if, when Murderbot is tired of people looking at it or in a more vulnerable headspace, we get more drone POV shots without Murderbot in frame. It's still there, but present in a different way, behind The Camera rather than in front of it.
I think there's potential in using POV shots from ART's cameras to characterise it without visualising it in a traditional way. I think there's potential in using horror movie monster language on ART and Murderbot. I think there's potential in having the cinematography focus on what they're seeing in a way that emphasises the amount of Surveillance both of them are constantly doing.
I think there's potential in a show using The Camera as cleverly as the books use Narration.
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