#but also still making sure i’m starting on work ahead of time so it’s less stressful for me to take that time

[yellowsubiesdance]

the school burnout is starting to get to me. i do not want to shame myself for it, because i know it’s something i really struggle with. it comes with the mental disabilities, i know this i know. i need to write this for myself to remind myself that it’s okay for me to do what i can to relax, and sometimes i won’t always get stuff done right away on time and that’s okay. and i need to remind myself to be communicative with my professors, and allow myself the space to ask for help or extensions if i need it. and i should communicate when i’m feeling this way if i know it’s going to affect my work. and i need to mentally prepare myself for asking for that help, so that when the time comes for me to do so i can fight through the anxiety that comes with it.

#when i got home yesterday i played video games the rest of the day #ignoring my schoolwork #and i’m thinking about my game again #i need to find a balance between letting my brain settle down after lots of schoolwork to have that time to let go #but also still making sure i’m starting on work ahead of time so it’s less stressful for me to take that time #it’s really hard #i’m hoping i can do it #four years of this is coming #thank god i don’t have more difficult classes rn #i’m getting into the rhythm of having this full-time schedule #i will do what i can to get through it #and i have to remind myself to focus on the priorities #and not to let myself get caught up in anything secondary or tertiary etc #this is a lot sorry gang #journal 2023

[bomertheshark]

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

#top male reader #bomertheshark #dom male reader #x male reader #seme male reader #male reader #bottom character #nanami x male reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x male reader #Kento x male reader

[russo-woso]

Could you do a fic with lessi where the reader is pregnant and they find out during the delivery that they having twins. Maybe some angst during the delivery like r blaming Alessia. And them not being able to tell the twins apart and lessi keeps getting them confused. You could include like team interactions with the twins and them making fun of alessia for not being able to tell them apart. 🙏

Twins || Alessia Russo

Warning pregnancy, giving birth, ‘I’m such a bad mum’, fluff (lots of it)

It had been a long nine months to say the least.

The last nine months were the hardest nine months of your life.

Being pregnant came with its highs and its lows.

One of the biggest highs, was that you and lessi were finally starting a family. Something that you had both dreamed of since you were seventeen.

However, after going through the long process of IVF and it working, you entered the first trimester and the morning sickness kicked in, the constant tiredness started, the hot flushes occurred.

But the thought of your baby on the way, and Alessia being there every step of the way, made it so much easier for you.

Although, as soon as you entered the later months of your pregnancy, and the kicking started, you had immediately told your wife that you were never going to be pregnant again.

Every minute of every night and day, it was non stop kicking.

You blamed it on Alessia. After all, the baby had her genes, and she was the footballer.

And so when your water broke on a cold December night, you couldn’t have been happier.

You were going to meet your baby, and you weren’t going to be pregnant anymore.

After Alessia running round making sure you had packed everything, you finally made it to the hospital.

As you laid in the hospital bed, Less sat to your right, your breath hitching every time a contraction hit.

Alessia was so good though, constantly whispering how well you were doing and how she was so thankful that you were going through this so you could extend your family.

The midwife came in to check how dilated you were but when she noticed the sudden increase of the baby’s heart rate, she brought the scan machine in to check the little one via a scan.

Alessia took a hold of your hand, treasuring this last scan before you saw your baby face to face.

“I can’t wait to meet our baby.” You told less as the picture appeared on the small screen.

You turned back to face it and noticed the midwife’s eye widen in shock and confusion.

“What? Is everything okay?” Alessia asked, also noticing her change in emotion.

“You do realise there’s two?” She asked back, waiting for an answer.

You just stared at Alessia, not knowing what to do.

“Two what?” Alessia questioned, the realisation not settling in.

“Two babies. You’re having twins.” The midwife explained and you swear you could’ve fainted in that moment.

“No, that can’t be right. We’ve been told throughout the whole pregnancy that it’s only one baby.” Alessia said to the midwife but the midwife pointed to the screen, two babies clearly visible.

“Twin B has been hiding at the back all along.” She pointed out, and you freaked out, worry and dread filling your body, tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. We’re gonna have two babies. Double the amount of love. It’s gonna be hectic but it’s another baby that we get to love.” Alessia said, claiming you down as she enveloped you into a gentle hug. “You’re gonna be such a good mama, you know that, right? You already are.”

“Now due to us only founding out it’s twin now, you will still have to go ahead with a natural birth, however, we’ll give you extra drugs and pain medication to lower the pain.” She explained and you nodded your head, dread filling your mind once again at the thought of pushing two babies out of you.

The midwife left the room, leaving you and less to have to some privacy as you discussed the unexpected twist.

She returned again to actually check how dilated you were, and it turned out that you were eight centimetres dilated so it was only about an hour left.

“Baby, do you think you could get some sleep for me?” Alessia asked, purely thinking of you and how tired you must be feeling.

“Cuddle.” You murmured, your eyes already drooping as Alessia laid down in the bed next to you, her hands instinctively landing on your bump.

As soon as your head landed on her shoulder, you were gone.

Once you had awoken, you felt a build up of pressure in your lower abdomen, which could only mean one thing. It was time.

You told Alessia and she went and grabbed the midwife.

“You ready?” She asked once she had gotten you into position. You nodded back in response, sending a weary nod.

————————

“This is all your fault, Alessia.” You told her through gritted teeth.

Alessia didn’t even deny it. She couldn’t.

You had carried her two babies, and were now delivering them into the world, the least she could do was let your anger out on her.

“Keep going. Keep going. Good job. The heads out now.” The midwife told you, and you let out a sigh of relief, knowing that your first baby was nearly here.

“You’re doing so well, baby. One more push and one of our babies will be here.” Alessia encouraged you, stroking the loose hairs out of your face.

Your face scrunched up, the pain taking over your body, but left as soon as newborn cries filled the room.

“Mum, would you like to come and cut the cord?” The midwife asked Alessia, who nodded straight away.

“A girl, Y/N. We’ve got a baby girl.” Alessia’s voice cracked as she set eyes on your baby girl. “She’s perfect, baby.”

The doctors and nurses took her to be checked over, and Alessia found her spot next to you.

“I have to do it all again because of you.” You told Alessia, rolling your eyes at her.

“I know, love, but it’ll all be over soon and we’ll have two babies.” Alessia pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead as you began pushing once again.

“Fuck, less, I hate you right now.” You managed to get out.

All Alessia could do was smile at you.

She couldn’t have been more in love with you than in that moment.

She was so amazed that you had not only carried two babies but had also gone through the agonising process of delivering them.

With one final push, an identical cry filled the room.

“They’re here, love. Both of them are here.” Alessia cried, kissing your temple, before walking over to cut the cord of Twin B. “Another girl, twin girls.”

“Girls?” You asked, exhausted from giving birth.

“Two baby girls.” Alessia confirmed as the nurses wrapped them in blankets.

“Both of them are perfect. Two sets of ten fingers and ten toes.” The midwife smiled at you as both girls were placed on your chest.

“They’re perfect, lessi.” You sobbed, as you looked down at your baby girls.

Tears ran down yours and Alessia’s faces as you stared in awe at the tiny humans you had both created.

————————

“I can’t wait for the team to meet them. They’re gonna be so shocked when they see both Ava and Mila.” Alessia said as she put both girls in their car seats, pressing light kisses to their noses which scrunched up in reaction.

“They still have no idea?” You asked, resting a hand on Alessia’s back as she crouched down buckling Mila’s car seat.

“No idea at all. I haven’t even told Ella.” Alessia told you, leaning back up picking up a car seat. “I’ve got Mila, no Ava, wait, no I’ve got Mila.”

“Lessi, you’ve got Ava.” You corrected her as less’ face was covered in confusion.

“I’m such a bad mummy. I can’t even get their names right.” Less buried her head in your neck as you brought her in for a hug.

“Love, you’re not. Don’t ever think you are. It’s confusing. I get it wrong too sometimes. They’re identical twins and they’re babies. You know, your mum suggested we write their initials on their hands. We’ll do that when we get to camp.” You told her and she nodded, agreeing with the idea. “Come on then, baby. Let’s get you to England camp.”

————————

After stopping at three services to breastfeed, you eventually made it to St George’s Park.

At first, Alessia had turned down the offer to be at camp for the week purely to be with you and your girls, especially since they weren’t even a week old yet.

But when you found out, you weren’t having it.

She loved her time at England camp and so you compromised and offered to go with.

Alessia spoke to Sarina and Sarina said it was a pleasure for you and the baby, babies, to be there.

On the way there, you and Less had planned it that you would wait outside with one of the twins whilst Alessia walked in with the other.

Hopefully, the team would see Alessia, gathering round to see the newest member of your family.

Then, you would walk in and the plot twist would be revealed.

And that’s exactly how it went.

Alessia walked in, Tooney spotting her first, immediately gathering round to meet her newest niece.

Less set the car seat down and the girls gathered round, staring in awe at the newborn baby fast asleep in a milk coma.

Alessia couldn’t help but shed a tear at the sight of all her best friends connecting with her baby girl.

“What’s her name?” Lucy asked, looking down at the baby.

“So we had two names in mind that we loved throughout the whole pregnancy. We loved them so much that we couldn’t decide between them.” Alessia began as you quietly entered the room with Mila.

“Which turned out really well because we actually got to use both names.” You continued, the team still looking at Ava, unaware of Mila who was in the other car seat.

“It turned out well because unaware to us, we weren’t just having one baby girl.” Alessia said and the team sent her a weird look.

“Instead, we had two.” You spoke up again. This time, the girls looked up at you and gasped once they saw the second car seat.

“Oh my god. Twins?” One of the girls questioned as they all ran towards you, turning silent, scared to speak or make a sound.

You looked up at Alessia who had a massive smile on her face.

“You knew you were having twins and didn’t tell me?” Ella asked you and Alessia and you laughed, knowing the answer was going to sound crazy.

“We didn’t know we were having twins. We only found out an hour before I gave birth.” You told her and Alessia explained the rest of the story.

The team gathered round in the relaxation room, taking it in turns holding the girls.

“So, what are their names?” Lucy piped up again, realising that you never told them in the end.

“The one Kiera’s got is Mila and Niamh’s got Ava. Wait, no, other way round. Actually, what?” Alessia questioned herself, embarrassed that she cousins even name her own babies. “Yes, Kiera’s got Mila and Niamh’s got Ava.”

“Baby, other way round.” You told her and Alessia face palmed herself, sighing in annoyance.

“Awe, can your mummy not tell you apart?” Niamh cooed at Mila, winding Less up.

“Niamh.” You warned, seeing Alessia get worked up. “Baby? Can I talk to you outside?” You asked her, taking her hands in yours as you led her outside.

As soon as you shut the door, Alessia started sobbing.

“That’s like the eighth time I’ve done it. I feel so bad that I can’t even get their names right. I’m such a bad mum.” Alessia shared with you, in between sobs.

“Hey, hey, calm down, baby. It’s okay. They’re only five days old, we haven’t had time to get to know them yet. That’s the hard bit about having twins. As they get older, they’ll have their differences. It’s just because they’re still young.” You told her as you continued to hug her.

You broke apart from the hug and pressed your lips on hers.

As you did, a small cry was heard from within the relaxation room.

“That’s Ava, you go sit down and I’ll grab her.” Alessia told you and you smiled at her.

“How do you know it’s Ava?” You asked her, confused as you weren’t in the room to know.

“Her cry is higher pitched compared to Mila’s.” Alessia explained to you and you simple smiled at her, knowing she had proved herself wrong.

“See, you knew that was Ava. I didn’t know that was Ava. At a guess, I would have said it was Mila.” You said, rubbing your hand up and down Alessia’s arm.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for always being there for me, thank you for giving me our two girls, thank you for everything.” Alessia stated, kissing your lips.

“Thank you, lessi.”

“Guys, stop kissing and come and get your daughter!” You heard Mary shout and you laughed before going back into the room.

“Come on, Mila.” Alessia cooed, picking her up and resting her in her arms. The baby girl immediately calming down by her mummy’s touch.

“Babe, that’s Ava.” You said and Alessia face dropped. She was so confident and 99% sure that it was Mila. “I’m joking, love. Sorry, I just had to do it.”

“I hate you right now.” Alessia mumbled, not wanting to wake up Mila.

“Hmm, that sounds familiar but at least we’re even now.”

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #womens football #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

[fcthots]

hear me out.. tattoo artist! jason

Ok think Jason w tattoos is UDHFH STEP ON ME. AND TATTOO ARTIST JASON? EVERYTHING. but I have such a fear of needles that this is the only way I could do this one. I will return to it later if I become any less of a a coward.

Also this somehow turned into a full fic, don’t ask me how. I just looked down and there were words typed in the post. I don’t know what possessed me. And before I forget: it’s not really relevant so far if the bats are still bats in this AU, but the batfamily is still at the very least, a family.

Jason works at a tattoo parlor and that’s where you two meet. It’s love at first, well, first day? Anyway, you come in wanting to get your ears pierced. You know you’re scared going into it so you call ahead and ask for the nicest, most gentle, and most patient person there and you book a stupidly long appointment with him so you have time to have a panic attack and freak tf out.

You were not expecting Jason to be over 6 feet tall and be the most menacing person you’ve ever seen (and you saw batman one time!!). You also weren’t expecting him to be so stupidly fucking attractive. You sit down where he gestures for you to, and hug your arms close to yourself. He gets everything ready while you start trying to control your breathing. You can see Jason continuously turning to look at you out of the corner of your eye as you fidget with your ears wondering how bad this is gonna hurt.

“You okay?” You look up at him. He’s staring at you with concern in his eyes. Ok, so maybe you weren’t as good at controlling your breathing as you thought, but you still needed to respond.

“Mhm.” Your words were sort of failing you right now so that would have to do. You attempt to keep your tears in.

“You ready?” You look down and see the needle in his hands. Absolutely the fuck not. Your breathing gets worse, your tears are starting to make it out of their prison, and you are about to have a panic attack.

“No.” It comes out too fast. You shake your head wildly to make sure you get the message across.

He immediately puts down the needle and shows you his open hands. “Can I sit?” You bring your knees to your chest and nod before you hide your face. “You’re scared of needles?” He sits next to you, keeping a respectful distance.

“Phobia,” you mumble as you slightly lift up your head. You see the equipment on the table and you attempt to cover up the way your heart spikes. Jason follows your gaze. He gets up and puts a clean towel over the needles before he sits back down.

You were very clearly crying now despite trying not to. Your adrenaline was kicking in.

He held out his hand. “Do you wanna hold my hand?”

You jerked. “Do you mean like while you stick me with the needle? Because I’m not ready. I’ll be ready soon. I swear I’ll try and get myself together, I just need a minute-”

“We’re not piercing your ears right now. You can hold it then too if you would like, but I was asking if holding my hand would help you right now. We have all the time in the world for the needles later. I just wanna help you through this for now.”

You grab his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry for all this. I don’t mean to make your job harder. Also I might be here for a long time. I’ll try not to, but I’m scared.”

“Don’t be sorry and don’t worry about me. Let’s help you right now. I can be content here all day. You’re just helping me slack off.”

You smile and wipe your tears with your free hand.

You sit in silence for about 5 or so minutes before Jason pipes up. “So why are you getting your ears pierced if you’re scared of needles?”

“People keep telling me I need to. Also I have a friend’s wedding coming up and I was told my dress needed to have earrings.” His hand is warm and huge. You really don’t want to let go.

“But if it’s causing you this much stress, who cares about earrings?”

“Most other people apparently.”

“That’s fuckin stupid.”

You laugh and finally meet his eyes.

He starts talking again. “Well what about clip-on earrings?”

“They don’t really make those much anymore. Super hard to find.” Jason looks thoughtful at that.

“Didn’t you book out the rest of my day?”

“…yeah sor-”

“Respectfully, don’t finish that sentence. My brothers ex-girlfriend makes jewelry, and I know for a fact that she makes clip-ons and fake piercings. Steph, her name is Steph by the way, used to make them for my brother before he moved in with us and was able to get them pierced. I’m 99% sure she’s home right now.”

You feel a huge weight lifted off your chest. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. How did you get here?”

“I walked from my apartment. It’s not all that far.”

“Alright well, if you’re comfortable with it, we can take my bike to go see if she can make you some if you want to go now. It’s not a walkable distance really. And don’t feel pressured to-”

“Let’s go.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. Anything to not jam a needle into my ears.”

Jason leads you by the hand to his bike and takes you back to Wayne manor. There are so many people there that barely question why you’re there. Jason walks off to go find Steph and you get nervous until a dog approaches you. A child follows shortly after.

“Titus can tell that you are upset. He is trained to help with such things.”

Jason comes back to find you with Steph in tow only to see the dog literally laying on top of you while you discuss animals with Damian.

What a weird ass fucking day, but a good one.

Part two

#let me know if anyone wants a part 2 bc I really enjoyed this one lol. it was a good vent #fun fact: I hc main universe Jason has a phobia of needles too lol #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd fluff #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader fluff #red hood fluff #saph’s love letters #saph’s thots #fluff #cw: needles #TattooArtist!jason #tattoo artist!jason

[pedroshotwifey]

Know Better

Pairing: Daddy!Dave York x bratty!fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

tags/warnings: heavy daddy kink, spanking, dom dave york, sub reader, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanking, brat tamer dave york, dirty talk, embarrassment

Summary: You disobey Dave and he has no choice but to punish you for it.

A/N: Here's a surprise Dave fic that nobody asked for because I got pissed off on vacation. Also, I saw this as a sugar daddy/brat kind of situation, but you can obviously imagine it any way you want!

*****

“Daveee!”

You whine loudly from where you’re perched and on a pool float, watching him as he makes another business call. He shoots you a sharp look that should be warning enough for you to stop, but you’ve never been one to learn your lesson the easy way.

You know it’s an important call since he paused his lounging with you to answer it. The two of you have been sitting by the pool for a few hours now, not really talking, but just enjoying each other’s presence as he read a book in his chair, and you laid out on your long float. Still, you can’t help but try to get his attention solely on you again. 

“Daveeeee,” you moan again, stretching his way. 

He turns to look at you again, gaze fiery as he points to the phone and mouths at you to quit. You should probably stop while you’re ahead, but you don’t. With all the work he’s been doing lately, he promised he would be spending this weekend with you, and only you.

You put on a heavy pout and pull yourself out of the pool to walk over to him. You can’t hear what’s being said on the other side of the phone, but it’s not like you’re trying too hard as you walk up to him and throw your arms around his neck. You nuzzle a couple of kisses to his clean-shaven jaw and whisper in his unoccupied ear. 

“Come back, Daddy. I want you over here.” 

He moves his hand to your waist, and you think for a second that you’ve won him over—quicker than you thought you would as well. But then he squeezes. Hard. Hard enough for you to attempt to get out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tell, but I’m going to have to give you a call back.”

Your eyes widen at the grip and the tone he speaks with. And that name…you know that name. You know they must be talking about…

Shit. That’s what you’re in. Deep fucking shit.

“Yes sir, thank you. Bye.”

He hangs up the phone and sets it slowly on the table next to him. His hand comes up to grip your forearm tightly and he leans down until his face is less than an inch from yours. 

“What the fuck did I tell you about interrupting my phone calls?” he demands in a cold tone. 

You shiver in his hold as shameful tears start to sting the backs of your eyes. You’ve never heard him talk to you in such a way. Sure, he’s been firm at times, maybe agitated with your bratty attitude, but never downright angry at you.

“Dave, I-I didn’t mea—“

“Inside,” he growls. “Now. And I don’t know who the fuck you’re calling ‘Dave’ right now.” 

He lets you go with a small but forceful push toward the door. You know what happens now. Again, he’s dabbled in the idea of punishment, but so far, he’s never actually had a good reason to act on it. 

You take a trembling step inside and head toward the bedroom, Dave hot on your heels. You don’t even have a chance to peel out of your bathing suit before he grabs your arm again and drags you over his lap as he takes a seat on the bed. You yelp as he pulls your bikini bottom down, exposing your lower half. 

“I take it you understand how important that call was.”

He waits for you to nod softly before continuing, one hand rubbing your ass in a careful motion. 

“So you understand why I’m doing this. ” 

You nod again, holding in a sniffle. 

He doesn’t wait any longer before lifting his hand and then bringing it down hard on your bare ass. You grasp the sheets in front of you and yelp in pain. Your skin is still damp from getting out of the pool, so the smack hurts even more than it would normally.

You bite your lip to hide any more sounds as he quickly does it again, your body jolting with the force of it.

“Little fucking brat. Think you can just have all of my time.”

You sniff, a rogue tear running down your cheek. 

“But, Daddy—“

Another smack, one that makes you practically scream comes down, and then another right after.

“Brats and attention whores don’t get to talk back to their daddies,” Dave barks back. He rubs your stinging ass again, and you flinch even at that contact. 

“You have three more.” He tells you, no gentleness in his tone. “Count.”

You nod and brace yourself for the next hit, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel him reach his hand lower to rub across your wet folds. A dark chuckle comes from above you as he runs his middle finger over your clit. 

“Fucking slut,” he breathes through a laugh. 

It’s only then, once you relax, that he spanks you again, this time with enough force to cause a welt. You scream out and squirm in his lap. 

“Count.” 

“O-One,” you shake. 

He rubs your pussy again, roughly smearing your slick. He then brings that same hand up and delivers another swift slap.

“Two,” you say, tears running freely now. 

And again, his hand is back, one finger prodding your hole and making you moan despite yourself. 

But then he retracts it and winds up to send the last spank onto the sensitive flesh of your ass. 

“Three!” You scream as your body jolts.

Even though you can still feel his anger, Dave relaxes a bit at your pain and obvious regret. His hand goes down to your cunt again, letting a finger slide fully in this time. His thumb goes to your clit, rubbing tight circles as a coil starts to wind in your abdomen. 

“Mm, Daddy, please,” you beg. It feels so good. You never thought pain could contrast pleasure so nicely. 

“Yeah, you want Daddy to let your slut pussy come on his hand?” 

“Mm, yes please, Daddy.”

You keeps working you, letting you get closer and closer, your toes start curling as you grasp onto the sheets and then—

Then he pulls out. You whine sharply in protest.

“Daddy, no!”

You shut up as he spanks your pussy, a wet smacking sound coming from between your messy thighs, which tremble with the rest of your body at the feeling. The build up is gone, and you’re left feeling betrayed and embarrassed. Not to mention with a sore ass. 

“No. Bad girls don’t get treats.”

He helps you up, your bikini bottoms still around your knees as he stands up.

“Go get in the shower. Dinner will be ready when you get out.” He turns to leave, but then turns back to you after a couple of steps. “And don’t you fucking dare touch that little cunt. I’ll know if you do, and you won’t be coming for a long time if you choose to disobey me again.”

He leaves the room without another word, leaving you needy and fucking furious. But you get in the shower anyway, and you don’t risk touching yourself—even though you really fucking want to. You know better than to disobey Daddy, after all. 

******

Hi, babes! Sorry I've been a bit off the radar recently. I've been on vacation (as previously mentioned) but will be coming back tmw. TTF updates and requested fics will be posted regularly once I get back home!

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedro pascal characters #dave york smut #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #discipline

[magicalbats]

Flesh-Devouring Part 2

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 20,217

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, thigh grinding, mutual masturbation, belt spanking, some very mild violence (reader is mostly a helpless bystander nvxcnvde), a pinch of angst for spice

A/N: okay, I promise I’ll work on the next kinktober prompt now 🙈 and also we're just gonna' pretend Wriothesley has an actual belt somewhere on his person, I eyeballed the hell out of his official art and started to doubt myself buuuuuut I was already fully committed to the bit so dvdknvgkdngg

⭐

“Good morning, your grace!” 

Looking up from the sheaf of papers in his hand, Wriothesley swivels his head around to watch you disembark from the elevator with a noticeably eager skip in your step. He quirks a brow at it and fully turns to greet you at your approach. “Good morning, little miss. You certainly seem to be in a good mood today.” 

You can’t quite keep the smile off your face as you come to a stop in front of him, practically vibrating in your excitement. “Of course I am! Todays the day I finally get to meet with some of the inmates and get started on our new program, what else would I be?” 

He smiles at that. “While your enthusiasm is quite commendable, I must remind you not to get your hopes up too much. The group that volunteered for this is a — mixed crowd, so to speak. I’m not exactly sure what sort of reaction you’re going to get.” 

Drawing a stilted breath, you square your shoulders and give him a brief nod of understanding. You knew he was just being practical and realistic as always, but you felt good about this. Optimistic. You were positive your efforts would soon pay off in a very real, very tangible way, and at last justify all the grief you’d suffered at his hands just to get here. For weeks now you’d been meeting with him, discussing, planning, organizing and fine tuning a plan of implementation, all while wrestling with your own self control where the duke was concerned. There wasn’t any use denying that you liked kissing him a great deal. In fact, it seemed to be your new favorite activity, amongst other, less wholesome things … 

Even now you could feel the urge to go up on your tiptoes so you could tug him down to your level threatening to overpower your common sense, but there were much more important matters at hand. You’d told yourself this over and over again, repeating it like a mantra to steel your resolve and keep your mind focused on matters of business instead of giving in, and it was going to pay off. Today. Here and now. You could feel it. 

“I understand, your grace. I will make sure to keep my expectations appropriately tempered.” 

Wriothesley looks at you like he doesn’t quite believe that, but he relents without further pressing you on it. His boots sound impossibly heavy on the steel plated flooring as he half turns, motioning you ahead. “Let’s be off then. Did you bring everything you need?” 

“Yes, your grace.” Clutching your worn leather carry case in hand, you fall into step beside him as he leads you down the long winding corridor. 

The Fortress of Meropide is somehow both stuffy and chilly at the same, the air thick but infused with the cool temperature bleeding in off the water that surrounds it. You’d learned your lesson the first time you came here (in more ways than one) and had opted for a light jumper over your blouse to stave off the ever present note of cold which you could take off if you got too warm. That seemed like a not far off possibility when you were internally quaking with nerves, both eager and anxious, but for now at least you just keep your attention on him while he gives you a brief rundown of who was supposedly going to show up for this little meeting he’d arranged for you. 

Sixteen inmates had signed up. Not even half of that number were finished with their sentences, the vast majority still actively serving time, and you can’t help but feel a little disappointed about that. You’d of course hoped to give those who had made the conscious decision to stay at Meropide a chance to reconsider integrating back into overworld society but you try to remind yourself that this was only the first preliminary phase of a much greater project. If things went well today, there would be plenty of time to work with the others. 

“Ah, and before I forget.” He says, sending you a meaningful look. “Someone by the name of George should be in attendance, if he bothers to show up. He’s a little rough around the edges but don’t let what he says get under your skin. He’s had his sentence extended twice now and as I’m sure you can imagine he’s a bit grumpy about that.” 

“Understood.” You give the clutch of your bag a fierce squeeze. “May I ask why?” 

Wriothesley thinks that over for a beat. “The first time was due to excessive fighting outside of the regulated channels. We have a three strikes policy here, as I’ve mentioned before. I suspect he was trying to assert himself as the top dog in his block but he ran into a bit more opposition than he was expecting, so he had to start using his fists instead.” 

“And the other?” 

“He tried to take one of the sponsor representatives hostage and use her as a bargaining chip.” 

Your eyes go big. “Oh.” 

Smiling one of those rare but incredibly flattering genuine smiles, he reaches out to lightly nudge your elbow. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there the whole time to keep everything under control and make sure nobody gets out of hand but the ball will be in your court, little miss. I’m just your guard dog today.” 

You hate the way fluster slowly creeps up your neck but you valiantly stamp it back down as you shyly avert your gaze elsewhere. “Thank you, your grace. I … I really appreciate you doing this for me.” 

“I know you do. But don’t thank me just yet. Wait until after we see what kind of response you get.” 

That gentle warning niggles at the back of your mind like the tickling whisper of sharp claws brushing your skin, and your stomach gives a little flip. You were nervous to meet with them face to face despite being excited to get started. Working in the public affairs office and spending most of your time at a desk didn’t exactly prepare you for hands-on encounters such as this, but between your unfaltering conviction and Wriothesley’s ever present cool demeanor at your side you keep your head held high. 

Up a short flight of metal steps and down another steel plated hall, you find yourself stepping into a small room that, based on the rickety old tables tightly packed into the cramped space, looked like it was perhaps largely used as a card room. You can’t help but feel a dull rush of relief at finding it yet unoccupied by anyone. Unable to fight the urge any longer, you reach out to snag Wriothesley’s sleeve and he sedately turns to look down at you. 

Shuffling closer until you were practically pressed right up against him, you offer him an imploring look as you go up on your toes. “Your grace …?” 

Something distantly sparks in his eyes and, humming softly, he carefully bends down to press his mouth to yours in an altogether chaste kiss. But even for as innocent as it is — not nearly as heated as some of the kisses you’d exchanged with him in recent memory — it still inspires a flood of warmth in you that races down your body. Sighing softly, you lean further into him and give yourself over to the stilted, hard press of his lips on yours. 

It lasts for only a brief moment though, and your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks when he pulls back just enough to speak. “Don’t be scared.” He tells you quietly, so gently it makes your heart wrench. 

“I’m not scared, just … nervous, is all. I think.” 

Humming quietly, he gives you another quick, lingering kiss that makes your bottom lip warble against your will. “You’ll do great. I know you will, but even if you should happen to fall I’ll be right there to catch you. Just like always, right?” 

Your face was quickly starting to become unbearably hot. Oh, how you wanted him so badly, even if he was the most confounding, frustrating man you’d ever met. “Will — will you have me later? When we’re done …?” 

Wriothesley goes still, just looking at you for a drawn out moment, but you’re a little too embarrassed to be saying something so shameful out loud to meet his gaze anymore. Flutteringly, your hand comes up to anxiously tug at the fur collar of his coat under the guise of straightening it for him, even though you really wanted to use it to tug him in against you. 

Finally, at length, he draws a carefully tempered breath. “How do you want me to have you, little miss?” 

The violent shudder that abruptly tears through you almost has you going cross eyed. “I - I’m not sure, I just … I feel like such a mess inside and everything is confusing, and I don’t know what it is exactly but I want you to — to - -“ 

“Oh, sweet girl,” He exhales slowly, and you jolt when one of his hands finds your hip. Giving it a tight, possessive squeeze to make you tremble, he drags that oppressive palm further back and around to grab a pinching handful of your ass. “Do you need me to ground you in place? Is that what you’re asking me for? Huh?” 

You sway unsteadily, feeling terribly faint when it seemed as if you were being smothered under his weighty presence. The heavy, rough calloused hand gripping your backside through the seat of your pants, the body heat bleeding off of him in waves to settle into you; the smell of him swarming your senses to settle on the back of your tongue and leave the masculine taste you’d come to recognize solely as the duke’s cloying in your throat. It was all too much. 

Much, much too much. 

Whimpering softly, you force your attention up to look in his face, still hovering mere millimeters from yours even when doing so proves to be quite the struggle. “Yes.” It’s little more than a faint whisper. “I want … I need you to reorient me. It feels like I’m — lost out at sea. I don’t know how else to describe it.” 

With a barely audible, rumbling growl, Wriothesley closes his fingers around the meat of your ass hard enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. “You need your head cleared so you can focus all that energy you have where it belongs. I’ll give you that outlet, as much as you require it. I have no problem giving you a guiding hand, little miss. You know that.” 

Your mouth warbles in a jittery smile, unable to keep it at a bay even when you try very hard to stop it from spreading across your face. You didn’t fully understand it yourself, what you were asking for or what you needed. All you’d seemed to grasp over the short time you’d known him was that Wriothesley made you feel good. Almost inexplicably so. Even when he was being infuriating and condescending towards you, even when he’d give your poor bottom a handful of stinging swats at the first sign of attitude to remind you to behave yourself, it still didn’t detract from this flutter low in your gut. There was something deeply gratifying about being with him like this, in this particular dynamic, and for as little as you know what to make of any of it, he seems to know exactly what it is you instinctively crave from him. Why you keep seeking him out this way. 

The sapphires in his eyes shutter with what you’re starting to recognize as desire in his otherwise implacable facade and he leans in again, issuing an anticipatory breath into the scant space separating you. His mouth finds yours, as sure as any compass points north, drawing a threadbare moan from the depths of your shuddering gut. You lean into him, lips carefully parting to kiss him back, and — the shuffling sound of heavy approaching footsteps echoing off the metal walls has you wrenching back from him so fast your head spins. 

Eyes going impossibly wide, you quickly slap him away in your fluster and rush to extricate yourself from his person. Chuckling softly, as if he wasn’t at all concerned about being caught in such a compromising situation, Wriothesley lets you go, but not without a playful swat to your ass when you move to brush past him. You yelp at the mild sting but keep your attention ahead as you hurry over to deposit your bag on one of the tables so you can dig in it and give your racing heart a chance to calm down. Even now you somehow manage to be surprised at how utterly unapologetic he was about everything! 

Forcing your lungs to expand on a deep, steadying breath, you listen to the approaching shuffle behind you until an unmistakable shift of occupancy in the cramped room indicated that you were no longer alone with the duke. You keep your head down just a moment longer, both to ensure you had your expression under control and to also listen to the way Wriothesley amicably greets the inmates. You’d never gotten to see him interact with them before and, rather than coming off like the strict, hardass warden you’d had a first impression of, he almost seems to talk to them like they were … friends? Or at least on friendly terms with each other. 

Could it really be that you were the only one unlucky (or lucky, depending on how you looked at it) enough to bring out that side of him? But why would that be …? 

Slowly, more people start to drift in and you have to make a concerted effort to shove those thoughts to the back of your mind so you can stay focused on what really matters. You take your time neatly organizing your stacks of papers, the forms you’d carefully composed on the typewriter in the affairs office, and make a concerted effort to greet everyone with a smile when they move away from the duke to find their seats. Some of them are rather friendly when they respond, but others simply look at you without a single word and not so much as a backwards glance. No matter, though. You didn’t exactly come here to make friends. 

All in all, only seven inmates show up. A pair of shady looking brothers, one woman and the rest are men who just disinterestedly eye you up and down with varying levels of annoyance reflecting in their eyes. You can’t quite shake the feeling that they’d expected someone a bit more impressive than the slight, eager-faced woman wearing a jumper and slacks standing before them now, and it probably didn’t help that you looked downright diminutive standing next to Wriothesley either. Oh, well. You were just going to have to try and make the best of it. 

“Hello, everyone,” You chirp, a little higher in pitch than you’d intended thanks to your jittery nerves. “It looks like we won’t be getting anyone else today, so let’s get started. I’m very excited to be working with all of you.”

Resounding, echoing silence and a wall of blank stares. 

You waver slightly, but recover admirably. “I’m from the office of public affairs, and recently I’ve been working with his grace here to come up with programs for the prison that can help or otherwise enrich the lives of the inmates here. I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to come see me, and I hope you’ll feel comfortable enough to speak freely. This preliminary meeting is first and foremost going to function as a feeler so we can get an idea of what sort of activities you'd like to see offered at the prison in the future.” 

More silence. More staring. 

You can feel your face starting to grow warm even though you’ve also broken out into a cold sweat, and you flounder for something else to say. Far be it that you’d expected them to jump for joy and lift you in the air over their heads in celebration or anything as preposterous as that, but you had anticipated at least some kind of response. What were you supposed to do when they wouldn’t even speak so much as a single word to you? It’s not like you could get anything of worth out of this if you were the only one talking. 

Suddenly, Wriothesley shifts beside you and the soft creak of his boots makes your pulse nervously jump. “I expect all of you to show our guest some respect today. I'm not sure why you would sign up for this if you had no intention of participating, so let’s get it in gear. If you have something to say, now is your chance to say it.” 

The brothers sitting nearest to you bend their heads close and exchange a quick, muffled conversation between themselves, but you’re a little too rattled by the tone of Wriothesley’s voice to make out what they’re saying. Ah, so it wasn’t just you then. Good to know. 

“What sort of activities are we talking here?” One of the men in the rear suddenly speaks up, snapping your attention back into the present. 

“O - oh, yes. We were thinking things like trade skills and daily lifestyle necessities that could give you a better sense of independence while you’re here. Things like sewing or cooking, or - -“

“Why would we need any of that?” The only other woman in the room chimes in. “Meropide works just fine as is and the system already in place provides us with all of that.”

“Well, yes, but - -“ 

“Yeah, what do I need to know sewing for when I could just as easily pass it off to someone who already knows how to do it?” One of the brothers, the larger and seemingly more cantankerous of the two, adds on, making you pull your mouth into a firm line. 

“That’s exactly why.” You assert in an equally firm voice. “The prison’s internal functionality works like a well oiled machine, doesn’t it? Why want for anything else when everything is already right where it needs to be. Just like cogs, everyone fits into their role and they fit it well. You all keep Meropide running as it should, there’s no doubt about that. But each and every one of you has a life beyond the role you take on here. You aren’t just cogs, and you aren’t just part of the greater machine. I want to give you a chance to be independent of that clockwork, even if it’s only for an hour or two each day, and remind you that there’s still something beyond these tin walls.”

You draw a steadying breath, carefully taking in the faces sitting before you. It looked like a few of them were starting to come around, or were at least curious enough to actually hear you out now, and that bolsters your courage by some margin. You could do this. You would. 

“I know how easy it is to get comfortable with the lifestyle here. His grace has taken the time to explain to me in great detail the ins and outs of the prison, how everyone lives on a schedule, what freedoms you’re allotted and what has restricted access. I’m aware that there is a great deal of self governing here in the fortress, which is precisely why I want to give you all an opportunity to deviate from that routine. It might be fun, right? Having a little bit of your old life back?” 

A few looks are exchanged between some of the inmates, a soft murmur rising up, and your heartbeat starts to quicken. Next to you, Wriothesley snorts a quiet laugh before moving back to lean against the wall, leaving you feeling strangely alone and exposed standing there by yourself. You shoot him a quick, harried glance over your shoulder but he just crosses his arms over his chest and nudges his chin at the small congregation. When you turn back around, you’re more than a little surprised to find the other woman leaning towards you in obvious interest.  

“I always wanted to be a seamstress some day.” She abruptly announces, startling you slightly. “My mother taught me when I was younger, but I never got a chance to really hone the skill. Is that really something you could arrange?” 

You swallow your nerves, hearing Wriothesley’s reminder not to get your hopes up in the back of your mind, but it was so hard not to when she was looking at you like that. You wanted to help her. More than anything else, you just wanted to give them something more to live for. 

“I believe we can. His grace and I have already reached out to a few businesses, and a few of them have expressed willingness to volunteer their services to the prison. I’m sure if everything goes well and word of mouth starts to spread, we could convince others to do the same as well.” 

“I did always want to be a chef.” The larger brother admits somewhat sheepishly, and you smile. You couldn’t help it. 

This was really working. 

It doesn’t take long to have a full dialogue going after that. Even with the one or two stragglers still wary and uncertain about introducing any real changes to the system the overall reception seems to be resoundingly positive. You talk with them, discussing what they’d like to do, what they’d like to potentially see implemented, and through it all Wriothesley just hangs back against the wall, watching over everything like a silent sentry just at your back. He even stays true to his word and lets you be in charge even when tempers seem to flare up in disagreement every so often instead of snatching the reins from you at the first sign of trouble. All it takes is a sharp look from him or a low word of warning, and everyone grudgingly settles back down, which was not something you’d expected to relate so much with them about but you do. It almost feels like a strange sense of solidarity in a way, and you were immensely glad to have him on your side like this. 

Everything goes so well, in fact, that by the time a real problem raises its head, you almost overlook it completely. The man in the far back corner hadn’t said much at all over the course of the last hour and some change, but you’d felt his burning gaze on you the whole time. He appeared to be the most opposed to the program you’d presented to the group, but you hadn’t been able to squeeze the reason out of him yet which is why you eventually defer to your hand typed forms. You’d thought it would be a good idea to have them put their thoughts down in writing in case they felt too shy to say it out loud, and you hoped your careful planning would pay off in this. 

You’re in the process of handing out the papers to everyone along with the pencils you’d brought along, slowly making your way over to him last, and he tips his head back as if in challenge at your approach. You had a sneaking suspicion who he was, of course, but you still offer him a cheerful smile as you move closer. 

“I know you haven’t said much today, but I hope you’ll share any thoughts you have on the form. It’s really helpful to have different perspectives on things like this.” You tell him, holding out the sheet. 

“Can’t write.” He rumbles, making your hand falter. 

“Oh.” You hadn’t even considered that being a possibility. “I - I’m sorry. Maybe we could see about starting up classes so you can - -“

“Don’t want em’” 

You blink at him owlishly, trying to make sense of his surly attitude, but Wriothesley calls over from the other side of the room before you can think of something to say. “Watch yourself, George. I’m not going to give you another warning.” 

Ah. So your suspicions were correct. 

You start to pull back, decidedly unnerved by the way he clearly wants nothing at all to do with you, but then you see the look that flashes across his eyes. Like a street hardened dog that was ready to bite in retaliation. You almost hate yourself for it, but your heart irreparably softens and you turn your head to send Wriothesley a reassuring look. “It’s alright, your grace. I don’t mind.” 

He begins to open his mouth to say something but you whip your head back around, speaking before he can further insert himself into the conversation. 

“Please don’t worry about it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know not all of us have been given the same kind of opportunities in life. Where are you from, George?” 

The grizzled man sends you a slow look, the muscles in his jaw working with what you think is probably irritation, but you refuse to back down or give up on him. He was still a person deserving of respect and dignity no matter how much he might hate you. 

“Fleuve Cendre.” He says at length, and you feel a distant twang of understanding in the back of your mind. The underground sewer systems in the Court of Fontaine were not always the best place to grow up so it made sense, in a way. 

“I see. Well, if you’re at all interested I can make every effort to arrange for someone to come teach you how to write, or maybe I could even do it myself. Does that sound like a good idea?” 

He suddenly leans forward in his chair, getting right in your face, and it takes everything you have not to go scuttling back though you do give a startled jerk in surprise. “Not a chance! I don’t want your stinking charity, lady!” He practically spits at you, vitriolic and full of malice. 

“Charity?” You incredulously echo him, but he reaches out to viciously grab your wrist before you can think of anything else to say. 

“That’s right! You think I need you looking down on me or something? How about I tell you exactly where you can shove it instead!” 

You open your mouth to say — what, you don’t know, but a shift of motion in your peripheral stops you in your tracks. Snapping your head up, you’re not the least bit surprised to find Wriothesley quickly closing the distance with long, purposeful strides, but it still horrifies you and your heart promptly jackhammers straight up into your throat. 

“Wait!” You shriek, holding your uncaptured arm out as if to stop him. Like you even could. He’s like a solid wall moving towards you and you could already see how this was going to play out, your eyes going round as saucers seconds before a violent wrench on your arm takes you right off your feet. 

In a sudden rush of movement that you can’t even begin to process or comprehend, you abruptly find yourself pinned to the front of George who’s shot up out of his seat. Wriothesley comes to an immediate halt, just short of being within arms reach, and you stare up at him in unseeing disbelief as George shuffles back to press himself into the corner, using you like a shield. You’re distantly aware of an eruption of chaos in the rest of the room, likely a result of everyone rushing to get out of the way, chairs loudly scraping and clattering against the floor, but you feel strangely numb to it all. 

The only thing you can manage to think at that moment is that you were going to be in so much trouble once everything was said and done. 

“Don’t touch me, you bastard aristocrat!” 

“Wha — h - hold on a minute!” You squawk, feet kicking uselessly at the floor in a blind attempt to find some traction. It’s no use though, and your shoes just slip and slide against the papers you’d dropped in the shuffle. 

“I thought we already went over this, George. You know taking hostages isn’t going to get you anywhere except straight into solitary.” Wriothesley intones, and the surprisingly calm, leveled quality of his voice surprises you slightly, prompting you to bring your head back up. But the look you find in his face, the icy heat curling in his eyes, is anything but tranquil, and your stomach twists in dread. 

You’d never seen him look like that before … like he could really kill someone. 

“I don’t want to hear it!” George snaps, nervously clutching you against him — as if you were going to stop anything! “I’ve had enough of this place, and I’ve had enough of all of you! Always looking down on me like I’m less than dirt!” 

“No one is looking down on you.” Wriothesley says, clearly trying to reason with him. “Just calm down and let her go. I know you’re having a hard time adjusting, and I’m sure having your sentence extended didn’t help with that, but this is only going to make things worse for you in the long run. You can’t bargain your way out of this.” 

“Maybe so, but I could kill her!” 

“You what!” You shriek, nails sinking into the arm pinned across your front, but they both summarily ignore you. 

“That’d show you not to mess with me!” George continues on. “I’m serious, you know! I’ll do it!” 

“And why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?” Wriothesley shoots right back. “If you’re hoping to spend the rest of your life in Meropide you don’t have to do this to accomplish that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” 

“Dammit, I want out of here! I can’t stand this place! No sun, no fresh air, no sky! It feels like I’m going crazy down here!” 

“Then let her go. You still have a chance to return to the surface someday and you’ll get to see the sky as much as you want then, but that’s not going to happen if you keep this up. If you extend your sentence much further, you’re just going to seal your own fate. Permanently.” 

That actually seems to give him pause, and you hold your breath in anticipation of the pin dropping even when your chest strains and aches in protest. You almost didn’t dare to hope that he would actually listen to reason when you were viscerally aware of all the impotent rage and unrealized frustration coursing through his body, making him shake against you. It didn’t appear to be a bluff, at least not where you were standing. You think he really could kill you if pushed far enough, but … slowly, his hold on you eventually starts to relax. 

“I don’t want to be trapped under the ocean for the rest of my life …” He murmurs, a brief glimpse of cognizance returning to him after that manic flash. 

“Then hand the young lady over to me and let’s be done with it. I think this has gone on long enough, George.” 

Carefully reaching out for you, Wriothesley takes a step forward. His ability to stay cool and collected even in a situation like this surprises you a great deal, of course, but you find some amount of comfort in his unflappable demeanor. It helps you stay calm, in as much as you’re able to at least, and a dull wave of relief washes over you when George reluctantly pushes you away from himself, shoving you straight into Wriothesley’s waiting arm. 

You almost don’t believe it as his hand grabs around your waist and tightly gathers you up against him, angling you further from the inmate. It felt like you were dreaming. Numb to everything that had happened over the last few inexplicably short moments, you turn in his hold just in time to watch Wriothesley snag George’s wrist before he can pull it back all the way. 

And just like that, he snaps the bone with one solid twist. 

The sickening crack! that rings out makes your stomach lurch up into your throat. 

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

Slamming Wriothesley’s office door open hard enough to make it bang against the interior wall, you storm inside so mad you could just scream! 

He comes in behind you at a leisurely pace just a moment later, taking his time to close and lock it, but you’re a little too caught up in the absolutely blinding surge of anger you’re trying to wrestle with to question it. Seething viciously, you start to pace the perimeter of the room. It’s all you can think to do. You wanted to scream at him, kick him, slap him, spit at him! What was wrong with this man that he would ever think that kind of violence was okay? 

“Are you alright?” He eventually asks you, just standing there in the doorway watching you stomp around his office as if it were a perfectly normal sight to see. That evenly tempered, almost blase tone of his voice just makes you see red though, and you finally round on him with a wordless shriek. 

“Why did you do that to him?” 

“He was dangerous.” Wriothesley says it like it should have been obvious. “I think he made that quite clear, don’t you?” 

“It doesn’t matter! He’d already let me go, you didn’t need to hurt him like that! It was just excessive at that point, you damn brute!” 

“That doesn’t mean he couldn't still hurt you. You’re not stupid, little miss. I know you’re aware of just how differently that could have played out if he hadn’t listened to me, and I wasn’t about to risk him changing his mind and having the means to lash out. You’re acting like I killed the poor guy.” 

You couldn’t seem to process his logic and, with no other choice, you return to your fitful pacing. “I don’t understand you. It doesn’t even make any sense. You say you care about your inmates but then you turn around and do something like that?” 

“I care about you too.” 

Stopping dead in your tracks, you slowly turn to look back at him again. The chill that creeps over you is suffocating, threatening to choke you up on the spot. “No. Do not do that. Not right now!” 

“But it’s true.” 

“I don’t care if it’s true!” You shout, impulsively closing the distance so you can jab your finger into the center of his chest. “You broke that man’s wrist, your grace! That was uncalled for! If you cared about him, or the others, or me you wouldn’t have done something so — so unnecessarily violent! He was just … he was just scared, is all. I think.” 

Wriothesley reaches up to carefully take your hand off him and you flinch at the contact but still let him do it because … because you don’t know why. You’re well aware you should be yanking out of his hold like he’d scalded you, skin crawling at just the touch of those rough worn fingers, but you can’t quite bring yourself to do that right now. Not when it felt like you were moments away from shattering to pieces right there in his office. 

“You think?” 

“I don’t know. Not really, but … he could have hurt me if he wanted to, right? But he didn’t. He only used me like a shield because you were coming, and he panicked. I can’t really blame him for that. I’d be scared too.” 

“I bet.” He murmurs, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the backs of your loosely curled knuckles. Grimacing at the gesture, unable to reconcile it in your mind — this soft version of the duke and the brutal prison warden — and you quickly look away. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy with how I handled the situation. I probably did frighten you, and you have my sincerest apologies for that as well, little miss. But you have to understand that I was protecting you.”

“I didn’t ask to be protected!” You seethe. “Least of all like that!” 

“Be that as it may, I still did what needed to be done. I already told you once, didn’t I? I’m your guard dog. You were in danger and I acted accordingly. It’s not fair of you to be so upset with me when I was only doing my job.” 

“But there must have been another way - -“

“There wasn’t. Believing any different is just naive and childish. You need to let go of this little fantasy you have that everything can be solved peacefully if you’re just nice enough. That’s not how the real world works.” 

You jerk your attention up with a low snarl, but he just looks at you with the same unreadable expression as always. He wasn’t the least bit sorry, nor did he feel any real regret for what he’d done. Not only that but he would have done it again without a second's hesitation. You could see it in his face, clear as day. He may as well have been saying it out loud for as little he tries to hide it. 

“It doesn’t work with violence either.” You finally rattle out, shaking in his hold. 

“I’d say my methods are a bit more effective than yours. You’re safe, aren’t you? If anything, you should be thanking me.” 

Your pulse spikes as you wrench your hand free and slap him as hard as you can, popping him right across the mouth. Wriothesley doesn’t even flinch and that just makes you angrier. Going up on the tips of your toes to get as close to him as you’re able to, you hiss at him with every bit of vitriol you can muster. “Is that thanks enough for you, your grace?” 

Terse silence descends over the room, interspersed only by your heavy breathing. At length, he finally draws a short, clipped breath. 

“I’m going to give you one chance and one chance only to apologize for doing that. I do hope you make the right decision.”

Veins turning icy, you bring your hands up to shove at his chest and push yourself away. “You wouldn’t dare. Not right now. Not when I’m so mad at you I could just - -“

He’s on you in an instant. 

For someone so big he certainly moves quick, and you barely have enough time to suck in a ragged, gasping breath of air as he roughly grabs under your arms and hauls you right up off your feet. The sudden rush of movement makes you nauseous, your stomach flipping end over end. Throwing your head back, you suck in a mouthful of air to scream. 

Wriothesley abruptly drops you back down to the floor before you can follow through and the sudden impact makes sharp, splintering pain race up your legs. That split second hesitation on your part is all he needs to get a hand over your mouth and your eyes go big in wild terror as he all but drags you by the back of your jumper towards the chaise lounge against the far wall. You wrench against his hold like a trapped animal, desperate and mindless as you shriek behind his palm, but the sound comes out muffled. Distant. There’s nothing at all you can do to stop it as he pulls you over and plops down on the cushions before yanking you down to kneel between his feet. 

You wince at the way your knees slam against the unforgiving ground but you don’t get a chance to fully process the hurt. He bends over you and reaches back to grab the back of your pants, using them to yank you up and brace you over his thigh. His hand stays locked around your mouth though, making it hard to breathe when you were sucking in quick, panicked gasps, one right after another as you frantically try to shove at him. 

His hand abruptly cracks across your ass with enough force to leave you seeing stars, and you wordlessly shriek into his palm. Winded and lurching, you instinctively try to angle away from him but the way he’s got you trapped between his legs makes it impossible to get very far. He hits you again, right on the mark, and hot tears immediately rush up to flood your eyes. Wailing in pain and impotent frustration now, you blindly reach up to shove at his arm. 

Wriothesley’s fingers just tighten around the lower half of your face though, securing his hold on you, while the other hand continues to rain down on your bottom in quick, blistering succession. Even through your pants it makes your toes curl achingly tight as you writhe there on the floor, rocking against his leg with each punishing blow. 

You couldn’t believe him, doing this to you in a situation like this! It was one thing when you were being bratty or stubborn, or hardheaded, and you’d even come to rather enjoy those intimate sessions with him in which he’d gradually break you down piece by piece before building you back up into a whole, complete person again. It was strangely relaxing, comforting even. Therapeutic. But this was something else entirely. You were mad for a good reason. You’d hit him for a good reason! It wasn’t fair that he could spank your ass red and raw, but you couldn’t even slap him once without incurring his wrath. 

So caught up in the tumultuous surge of emotions assaulting you all at once, you almost don’t realize when the tears start tracking down your face. They burn against your heated skin and pool in the seam where his hand is sealed over your face from the nose down, gathering there before eventually dribbling over his blunt knuckles. He has to feel it, has to know you’re crying, practically sobbing, but still he doesn’t stop. He just keeps spanking you, again and again, again, until the throbbing pain scorching across your defenseless backside seems to reach incomprehensible levels that have you struggling just to think through it. 

And you try to, desperate to cling to your anger and your fear, the betrayal you’d felt when he broke that poor man’s wrist right in front of your very eyes with hardly any effort at all to show for it. You hadn’t thought him capable. Even now when he was lighting your ass up it seemed like an entirely inconceivable notion for him to be capable of that level of cruelty. But it’s next to impossible to hold onto any of those thoughts or feelings when you were so swept up in the pulsing thrum of hurt he’s inflicting on you and slowly, ever so slowly, your mind starts to go blank. 

Evidently feeling you go lax against his knee in acceptance, Wriothesley’s voice starts to drift over you and it seamlessly penetrates the fog hanging over your head to dig straight into your brain. “I’m not sure who you think you are,” whap, whap, whap, whap, “But I have to say,” whap, whap, whap, whap, “I’m actually rather impressed you had the guts to do that,” whap, whap, whap, whap “I suppose that’s why I like you so much though,” whap, whap, whap, whap, “You're so damn bullheaded you just don’t know when to quit.” 

Groaning deliriously into the meat of his hand, you mechanically bring your hand down to clutch his pant leg in a death grip while the other blindly stretches back as if to protect yourself from his strikes. He pauses above you as your trembling fingers creep across your bottom, drawing a clipped, mildly annoyed breath. 

“Move your hand.” 

You wail something that might have been a ‘no!’, incomprehensibly muffled, and he clicks his tongue at the petulance. 

“Don’t test my patience with you any further, little girl. You have no idea just how much I can really make it hurt if you want to be cute.” 

Noising a sound of surprised confusion, you hastily retract your hand in favor of shoving it up against his stomach and pushing at him with renewed determination, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. Leaning forward, he reaches down the front of your body to fumble with the buttons on your pants. You squeal a muffled protest and try to angle away again to no avail. It takes him a prolonged moment to get them with the use of only one hand, but eventually he has your slacks undone and he starts to roughly shove them down your quaking thighs. 

“You know,” He says almost conversationally, as calm as ever while your internal panic was just ratcheting higher and higher. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, so let me explain something to you. There’s a right way and a wrong way to go about things, and somehow you always seem to consistently pick the wrong choice. I don’t mind so much that you’re upset with me. I still don’t think that was very fair of you, but you’re entitled to your own opinion. I’m certainly not trying to take that away from you.”

He’s finally got your pants bunched around your knees but, rather than spanking you over your panties next, he instead starts to yank those down too. A violent shudder tears through you at the implication, the suggestion, your blood running so hot for him it has you swaying there on the floor even as you give your head a weak shake. If he was skipping the usual buildup then he must have been rather upset with you indeed. 

“But as always you get too carried away. You won’t stop until you push me enough to end up over my knee, getting your butt spanked like a child.” He swats your bare ass for emphasis, making you shriek and sob at the pulsing sting as much as the resulting jiggle it causes. “Do you have anything to say for yourself? Huh?” 

You nod your head frantically, noising behind his hand, and Wriothesley gives your face a dull squeeze of warning. 

“I’m going to take my hand away but I promise if you scream you’re going to find yourself getting hit with something much worse than a hairbrush, do you understand me?”  

Another nod, even more wild than the last. 

Slowly, his fingers loosen and then tentatively fall away, leaving you to gasp wretchedly at the flood of fresh air. You slump against him and try to catch your breath, wet little hiccups making your back bow. “I … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — shouldn’t have hit you!”

“I’d say that’s an understatement.” 

Forcibly pulling yourself up even though it hurts to do so, you twist on your knees to peer up at him. Your lower lip promptly wobbles when you see the hard way he’s looking at you but you just sniffle and reach up to wipe at your tear stained face. “You made me so mad! And you never take me seriously! I tell you something and it seems like you always just brush me off!” 

Wriothesley watches you shake and heave for a drawn out moment before sedately slouching down, elbows shifting forward to brace against his knees so he can lean over you. The gesture makes you feel so incredibly small and insignificant, a borderline hysterical sob bursting out of your mouth which you quickly cover with your hand. You screw your eyes shut, trying to calm down, but he just hovers over you like that in complete and utter silence until the shudders wracking through you get too uncontrollable and you start to sway dizzily on the floor. 

His nearest hand finds your back and smooths over it in comforting circles, wrinkling your jumper in the process. Sucking in a thin, gasping breath, you instinctively rock forward as if to heave but all you do is cough like some sad, pathetic broken little thing. 

“Calm down,” He murmurs, giving your trembling shoulders a firm pat. “You’re going to make yourself sick carrying on like that. Will you listen to me?” 

Sniveling, you blink through the thick sheen of tears making your vision swim and nod your head with a faint whimper. His hand stills on your back, keeping you in place as he leans further down to your level and tips his head so he can see your face. 

“I wasn’t brushing you off. I understand why that upset you and I’m nothing if not sympathetic. Really, I am. If you want the honest truth of it, I regretted it almost as soon as I did it. I’ll have to apologize to George later and have a real long talk with him about what happened, but I’m not going to apologize for protecting you. You’re under my charge regardless of if we’re in the city or your house, but especially when you’re here. If something happened to you on my watch, that would be a resounding failure on my part. Can you understand that much, at least?” 

You hesitate and then nod your head again, not quite trusting yourself enough to speak yet. Wriothesley gives you an approving squeeze and another idle pat that makes you whimper softly. His hand was so big it felt like it was taking up almost the whole of your back … 

“I didn’t mean to scare you … you know that, right?” 

“Y - yes …” 

“Good. Because that I will apologize for. It was unnecessary. I should have completely removed you from the situation first before acting but he just had me so mad, I wasn’t thinking straight, and … honestly, I probably owe you an apology for that too I had some reservations about letting him come to the meeting of course, given his track record, but I thought maybe it would help him adjust a little better if he had something from the overworld to keep him busy. Preoccupied.” 

Gingerly, you shift on your knees so you’re knelt directly under him rather than braced up against his leg, and you lift your hands to hesitantly slide them across his strong jawline. Wriothesley let’s you do it, much to your thrumming relief, and you carefully tip his face towards you until just a scant breath separates his nose from yours. 

“What’s going to happen to him now?” 

He just looks at you, and your face slowly starts to crumple. 

“Please don’t let him get into trouble.” You plead, unable to bear the thought of his sentence being extended because of you. “It was just a mistake and I wasn’t hurt. He didn’t do anything wrong, your grace! Not really. Please, please don’t punish him.” 

Stiffly, he sighs out through his nose. “And there you go being naive again. I’m afraid there’s not much I can do to protect him at this point. He’s sealed his own fate.”

“But that’s … that’s terrible! If I hadn’t been there — if you hadn’t let me come here that never would have even happened! I’m the one at fault here, aren’t I? I’ll take the punishment in his stead! That would be fine, right?” 

“Lovely girl - -“ 

Wriothesley reaches out with his other hand to cup your face and you try to pull away, a fresh wave of tears springing up in your eyes, but he holds you fast. Tipping his head, he seals his mouth over yours and swallows down the muffled wail you let out. Even when the rolling beads of moisture start to track down your damp face, he just kisses you and kisses you until you finally start to stir underneath him some indeterminable amount of time later. 

You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting there on the floor but your legs are numb and prickly when you finally move, shifting forward to lean into him. Your breaths are still a little ragged through your nose but you start to kiss him back, tentatively slow at first and then with growing confidence. Growing hunger. The emptiness inside you is quickly filling up with a white hot, molten need, and you groan thickly into his mouth when you feel your pussy give a muted throb of interest. It matches the ever present sting across your ass, in a way, and you feel both in stunning high definition as you carefully raise up to meet him. 

Gradually easing back when you find your balance and sit up straight, Wriothesley brings his hands around to cup your ribcage. He squeezes, rucking up your jumper and blouse in the process but, as always, he doesn’t try to relieve you of it. That he was still willing to go about this on your terms, at your pace, fills your chest with a strange helium feeling, and you try to follow after him when he eventually pulls back all the way, whining low in your throat at the loss. 

“Come here, pretty girl.” He murmurs, tugging you up to stand and you do so with a great deal of haste even when your sore legs threaten to give out under you. Bracing a hand on his broad shoulder to steady yourself, you carefully step out of your sagging pants and underwear when he stoops down to pull them over your feet. 

Carelessly tossing your clothes aside, he grabs around your middle again and easily tugs you into his lap. Your heart pounds a wild beat inside your chest when you realize he’s centering you over his leg, and you quickly scramble to get into position. There’s no denying the excitement you feel searing your veins now, the speed at which you’d come to love this particular activity surprising even you. It felt like you were irreversibly addicted to it, and you moan very softly when your bare cunt presses down into his thigh. Pelvis tipping upward, you steal a quick glance down at yourself, still amazed at how broad and thick his leg looks under you. It’s not exactly hard to imagine something else forcing your thighs into a wide spread around him but that still scares a little more than you were willing to admit. 

Gently pulling you forward so that your cunt rocks down to settle squarely against his pant leg, Wriothesley gathers you right up against his chest and bends his head to yours again. You moan into the searing hot kiss and bring your hands up to clutch at him, the toes of your shoes bracing on the floor to give yourself leverage as you settle into a slow, mind numbing pace with him. 

It truly feels like your brain is melting when the stilted friction on your pussy soon makes you tremble and shake for him, panting heavily into his mouth. You’re distantly aware of the stiff tension in his body but Wriothesley just lets you find your pleasure on him without trying to take advantage of your muddied, intoxicated state. His hands roam over your body in a continuous caress, pinching, squeezing, kneading with rough calloused fingers, but he doesn’t wander to your chest or between your legs. He’d only touched you there once, back in that cramped little alley, but thinking back on it when you were moving with him like this … maybe you should invite him to touch you there again? It would probably feel good, and grinding yourself on his leg was such a slow, tortuous process. 

Or maybe you could try touching him? 

Turning your head to suck in a much needed lungful of fresh air, you take a moment to steady your nerves. You’d never crossed this line before, never been brave enough to take the plunge but, oh, you were so curious and your pussy positively clenches at the thought of feeling him under your palm. You wanted to touch him. You needed to. 

“Y - your grace …”

“What is it, pretty girl? What do you need?” He breathes into the scant pace separating you from him, head tipped back to look at your from this slightly elevated position. 

An intense shudder works through you at the thought of actually doing it, of actually saying the words, and you loose a keening mewl as you stubbornly turn your head to look elsewhere. You couldn’t look at him and say it, you just couldn’t! 

“Can … ahhn, would it be permissible for me to, um — t - touch you as well?” 

His thick fingers give a muted little jolt of surprise where they’re squeezing around your waist, and you tightly screw your eyes shut when he leans in to kiss the side of your neck. “Oh, little miss. You don’t have to ask. You can touch me as much as you want.” 

Trembling there on his lap, you hesitate to do it but finally gather enough courage to drag your hand down off his shoulder. Shyly watching the slow descent of it down his broad barrel chest, over his stomach, all the way down to the center of his lap. You give a tiny little jerk when you see the stiff outline pressing up against the interior, the motion of your hips inelegantly stuttering as you take in the shape of it, the size. It was indeed quite large, your heart nearly giving out entirely in your overwhelmed horror, but … but like this it wasn’t quite so bad. Not as scary as if you were perhaps looking at it straight on. 

Timidly cautious, you press your fingers over the outline and Wriothesley breathes out a thick, heavy sound that is suspiciously reminiscent of a growl. It seems to vibrate through you, pulling a quiet whimper out of your throat, but you force yourself to stay focused. Your curiosity was a little too compelling to get sidetracked now, and even your mindless rutting against him slows to a complete standstill while you feel along the length of him, just familiarizing yourself with the press of it against your hand. Even through his slacks it seems heavy and it’s so incredibly warm that you feel a dull, sympathetic tremor deep inside your cunt. 

Evidently realizing just how distracted you were, Wriothesley pulls back from your neck enough to look down at himself as well. “Is it so fascinating?” 

“A little bit …”

He laughs, sounding mildly strained. “If you’re curious I’ll teach you about it, but I won’t make you do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. In this, at least, I’ll play by your rules.” 

And he’d done such a good job respecting your boundaries thus far … perhaps it was alright to test the waters some. To give in to this primal urge coursing through your system, making you feel indescribably hot and mindless. 

“Would it really fit inside me?” 

The hushed noise he makes sounds so wounded it actually startles your attention up, and you take in his pained expression with great big eyes. 

“W - what? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, nothing. Please don’t start getting defensive, now of all times.” Grunting, Wriothesley grabs under your arms as he shifts back further against the lounge so he can rather gingerly recline back, pulling you right along with him. The careful motion stretches you out across his body to rest against his chest, prompting you to readjust the way you're straddling his thigh to keep your thrumming cunt pressed up tight against it. Letting out a shuddering exhale, he shifts underneath you just so before tipping his face down again. “If you say things like that you’re going to make this go crazy, and I’m not so sure you’re ready for that yet. Try rubbing it, like this.” 

You can’t quite stop the squeak of surprise that bursts out of you when he reaches over to grab your stilled hand. Redirecting you to the center of the bulge, he manually squeezes your trembling fingers around him and your skin positively crawls with an eruption of goosebumps when you feel it pulse against your palm. Wide eyed and quaking, you slowly bring your gaze back down to watch him guide your hand up along the rigid length and then back down again. You’d never before seen anything quite like it, but there was a very real, very primitive part of your brain that abruptly clicks on at the sight of it. 

“Will it hurt?”

“No.” He grunts, still dragging your hand up and down, up and down the length of him. “It feels good. Like when you rub that cute pussy all over my leg. You can squeeze it, if you want.” 

Experimentally, you do just that and the responding twitch of Wriothesley’s cock has your cunt repeatedly clamping down on nothing, a harried, deeply frazzled whine rising in you. It was like you were cumming, but not really. You felt close, though. As if just touching him like this, feeling the hot, pulsing need of him in the palm of your hand was stoking your own fire. Building your own pleasure up into something that was very nearly palpable. 

More confident this time, you give him another squeeze, and he makes a rumbling, needy sound in the back of his throat. Consumed with your own wanton need, you turn your head to look at him again and a distant thrill of surprise rushes through you when you find those deep sapphires watching you. Not your hand on him, but you. 

“Am I really making you feel good, your grace?” 

“Very much so.” 

Smiling, you lean up to press your mouth to his. He watches you do it, accepts your kiss, and a stilted puff of air rattles out of him to dance over your lips. You’ve never seen him hold himself quite so stiffly before but he starts to kiss you back just a heartbeat later, slowly at first and then with more demanding force behind the motion. Just like every other time he pulls you into his pace with ease, soon dominating the exchange while his hand continues to stroke yours over his trapped cock. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling impatient like this, indescribably needy, and you wriggle yourself down on his leg in search of more friction. Wriothesley gladly obliges you, curling his leg up a little higher to press more firmly into your cunt to make you keen at the sensation. 

As you start to ride him again, the hand that had remained carefully on your back this entire time starts to drag lower, tracing the curve of your waist and further still to smooth over your reddened bottom. You suck in a sharp breath at the sting but it just seems to make your pussy clench and drool even more obscenely. Rearing back against his hand, you give his length another tight squeeze to pull a low groan out of him. 

“You are a real menace, pretty girl.” He softly chides you, pulling back just enough to look in your face. “For as prim and proper as you like to act, you’re certainly an insatiable little thing.”

You start to apologize for it, but then think better of it. “Do you like it, your grace?” 

“More than I’d like to admit.” 

Your breath catches at that and you lurch on top of him when a warning tremor tears through your shuddering body. “Will … will you bounce your leg against me?” 

“Of course.” Eyelids drooping to attractive halfmast, Wriothesley presses his forehead against yours and tenderly nudges at your nose. “Shall I spank you while I do it? Something tells me you’d like that an awful lot.” 

“Ooh … yes, your grace, please spank me.” 

Another rumbling groan rises in him, eyes drifting shut as if in great pleasure. You don’t get a chance to linger on how positively devastating he looks like that because he presses his thigh up into you, sending you lurching with a faltering, deeply wounded sound. The motion of his leg jostles you slightly, prompting you to clutch at him all the more fervently — one latched around his cock and the other clinging to his neck — and you toss your head back with a high pitched squeal when he suddenly swats your ass without warning. You waver, hesitate for only a blink of the eye, and then you’re driving your cunt down to meet him with fast mounting urgency. 

“Oohh, gods —“

Swat! Across the other cheek to make the meaty swell bounce. 

A deeply flustered sound punches its way out of your mouth, hips swiveling desperately. “Ahhn, ahh! Y - your grace! Nggnh!” 

Swat! The first cheek again, this time with a possessive squeeze afterward that makes your toes curl. 

“I’d say I could never get tired of watching you bounce that pretty pussy on my leg, but I’d hate to discourage you from wanting to try anything else.” 

Your tense fingers impulsively squeeze down on his cock, making his chest hitch, and you seethe through your teeth at the quickly cresting waves of ecstasy washing over you. You were close, so close. 

“Please —“ Swat! Swat! First one cheek and then the next, in rapid succession. “Ooh! God! I - I want it, your grace! I want it!” 

Swat!  

“What do you want, lovely girl?” Wriothesley grunts, his own voice faltering now. 

“I - I want this!” You give his length a desperate squeeze, so lightheaded and dizzy you barely even know what you’re saying anymore. 

Swat! 

“It’s already yours, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready for it, you’ll have it.”

The thought alone of taking him deep inside your body makes every single muscle in your shuddering frame lock up, and you lurch to a sudden standstill on top of him. Your mouth drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out when he just keeps bouncing his leg on your drooling cunt, quicker now. A little harder. You sway unsteadily as your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, chest heaving with the gasps you frantically try to suck in but you can’t quite seem to get enough air. It felt like you were smothering under the intense pressure, hanging right on the precipice. 

Swat! 

“Cum for me, cum all over my leg and let me see that pretty face you make.” He practically growls, grabbing a tight, pinching handful of your ass to really drive the sting home. 

It’s that sharp, toe curling throb of pain that tips you over, and you cum with a gutted lurch. Wheezing, you arch against him so hard your spine aches in protest but you can’t stop it. Your hips judder wildly and your knees nearly give out from how hard it slams into you all at once, but he clutches you tight in his arms while you spasm and writhe, squealing in mindless delight. It’s all you can do just to keep your voice down, painfully aware that the two of you were not in the privacy of your flat, but you manage, somehow, to get through it without shrieking at the top of your lungs. 

You’re so exhausted and drained by the time the tremors finally ebb and fade that you collapse on top of him with a deeply frazzled groan. Giving your bottom one final, lingering squeeze, Wriothesley drags his hand back up to rub across your back and a faint shudder ripples through you when you feel him bend close to place a brief kiss to the top of your head. 

It was … really nice, actually, sharing such a quiet, intimate moment with him. It wouldn’t be hard to get used to it. In fact, you dully realize, you kind of already were. 

“You’re such a good girl for me sometimes.” He murmurs into your hair, his voice warm with praise and affection alike. “It just makes me wonder why you can’t be so good all the time.” 

“That would get boring.” You dazedly slur, making him chuckle. 

“That’s true. There’s no fun in it without a little power struggle first.” 

You hum a noncommittal sound, already half dozed off where you’re spread out on top of him when a muted twitch under your loosely curled palm makes you jolt. Blearily lifting your head from his chest, you glance down to find him still rock hard in his pants and your brows quickly draw together in confusion. 

“You didn’t - -“

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll go away.”

“But - -“ 

“Hush. Just do as I say for once and let it go.” Reaching up to palm the back of your head, he forces your cheek back down to his chest and holds you there even when you weakly try to struggle out from under it. “You really aren’t making this easy on me, you know that? Saying all that nonsense and now this. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about, little miss. Not yet.” 

Your mouth pulls in a pout even though he can’t see it. “Will you teach me more later?” It’s little more than a mouse squeak when you were so tired, so exhausted after everything that had transpired today. 

Wriothesley seems to think on that for a moment before softly pressing another kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll teach you everything in due time. You just need to be patient. I don’t want you to get so caught up in the moment that you rush into something only to regret it later. As I said before, I’m a guarddog. I'm not interested in biting the hand holding my leash.” 

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

You aren’t sure when, exactly, you fell asleep, but you wake up on the lounge some time later, finding yourself blinking up at the ceiling of his office in a bit of a daze. You’re a little disoriented at first and then you remember where you were. Everything that had happened. The meeting with the inmates. That horrible incident with George. The sound slap you’d given Wriothesley right across his stupid smug mouth. The way you’d crawled into his lap and … 

You bolt upright with a soul sucking gasp. Your instinctive panic is immediately interrupted, however, when you realize his coat is now pooled in your lap, and you blink down at it with owlish surprise. He’d given you his jacket while you slept? 

“Ah, you’re finally awake. I was wondering how long you’d be out for.” 

Startling, you twist around on the lounge to look over at the desk where you find Wriothesley reading over a small stack of paperwork in his hand while the other lifts a steaming cup of tea up to his mouth. You could smell it from where you were sitting, the rich aroma drawing you a little further out of your half asleep stupor and a bit more into reality. Archons, you felt like you were dying of thirst. 

“You wouldn't happen to have an extra cup for me, would you?” 

“Of course I do. Don’t be silly.” Setting his own back down after taking a sip, he sedately glances over at you from across the room. “I even grabbed some sandwiches and cookies for you from the cafeteria. I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up.” 

You immediately realize that that was an understatement. You weren’t just hungry, you were famished! 

But when you move to get up, pulling his coat off your lap, you abruptly come to a screeching halt. Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, you stare down at your bare legs in abject disbelief. “Where are my pants?” 

“Don’t sound so alarmed. I put them somewhere safe.” 

“Well, I’d like to have them back!” You snap, shooting daggers over at him. 

Humming as if in thought, Wriothesley drops the paperwork on top of the desk and reclines back into his chair. “I don’t think so. Not just yet anyway. I’m not quite through with you yet.” 

A shudder races up your stiffening spine, and you nervously gather his heavy jacket close to your chest, clutching at it. “W - what does that mean? I thought you said you’d let me decide when I was ready?” 

He barks a quick laugh. “I don’t mean that. I’m talking about your punishment from earlier. We got a little sidetracked, didn’t we?” 

“Oh.” Heaving a long suffering sigh, you roll your eyes and move to stand up. Keeping his coat held to your front, you slowly shuffle over to the desk to stand in front of it. “Is that really necessary? I understand why you had to do it, even if I don’t agree with your methods.”

Idly tapping his finger on the sturdy wood, he just silently studies you for a long moment. “It’s not exactly about agreeing with me.” He says at length. “I’m still waiting on an apology, for starters.” 

You promptly shrink in on yourself. “You hit me all the time …” 

“No, what I do is spank your bratty little bottom to sort you out. I don’t hit you across the face, and I never would unless you asked me to.” 

“Why would I - -“

“Do not try to change the subject. I told you once before that I’m not so easily distracted, didn’t I?” 

He tips his head to one side as if to further drive his point home, and you feel your cheeks start to warm. “You’re like a dog with a bone.” 

“Ah, so you have been paying attention then. Good. I know firsthand just how smart you really are so I do expect you to start figuring things out, the more time we spend together. And I do hope that you’ll continue to share more with me.” 

You hesitate at the first inkling that something was not quite right here. He was talking about more than just the slap, wasn’t he? But what else could there be that he wanted to talk about? 

“I do enjoy spending time with his grace,” You say slowly, warily. “Even if he does make me feel uniquely harassed half of the time. And I’m sorry for hitting you. You’re right that there’s a difference between the two. I tried to hurt you out of anger, while you do it to —“ 

Wriothesley chuckles when you search for the word only to come up empty handed, the smile tugging at his mouth equally roguish and charming. “To correct you. I can’t deny that you can be a little frustrating sometimes, but I’m sure the same can be said of me. In fact, I know it can. But I don’t hit you in anger. Not when I’m nearly double your size and weight. To allow my self control to slip even slightly would be … reckless indeed, because I could seriously hurt you. I’m always careful to make sure I’m fully aware of what I’m doing and how hard I’m doing it before I ever put my hands on you, little miss. I hope you know that.” 

Your back straightens when it suddenly hits you. That’s what he was worried about? 

“Are you afraid I won’t want to see you anymore after the way you … broke George’s wrist earlier?” 

A long stretch of quiet settles over the office, perfectly still and perfectly quiet. 

“A little.” He says at last. “I couldn’t exactly blame you if that was the decision you came to, but I’d still be a bit — disappointed to lose you. A lot, actually. I enjoy our time together too.” 

You swallow. Hard. “Your grace, I … I won’t deny that you scared me earlier, but it’s not like it was the first time. You’ve made me nervous and frightened, and happy, and sad, and so incredibly confused I could just tear my own hair out sometimes, but — I was more frightened for George than myself, if I’m being honest. I was scared you were going to hurt him.” 

“And then I did.” He says simply, and you nod. 

“Yes. Frankly, I was horrified. That’s why I got so mad at you. I never thought you’d actually be capable of something like that, and I guess I didn’t really know how to react. But you’ve never made me feel like I was truly in danger. I’ve never worried about you breaking my arm, or snapping me in half even though I’m sure you easily could. I’m not scared of you, your grace. I just … I don’t want to see you hurt anyone else, least of all because of me.” 

He lets that settle for a drawn out beat, clearly turning everything over in his head, before decisively leaning forward to grab up the teapot sitting on a tray at the corner of the desk. “Well, I can’t exactly promise you that. Should the need ever arise again, I won’t hesitate to protect you. Especially if it’s one of my inmates trying to cause you harm. But with that being said,” He starts to pour out a second cup, also taken off the tray. Your eyes voraciously wander over to the little plate covered with a tin lid, knowing there were promised sandwiches and cookies hiding underneath, and your stomach churns in hunger. “I solemnly swear that from here on out I will do everything in my power to avoid it ever coming to that. If we can stop it from reaching that point then surely both of us will be satisfied. Does that sound like a reasonable compromise to you?” 

“Yes, your grace.” 

“Excellent. Then come sit on my lap and help yourself to some food and tea. I’m sure you’re starving.” 

For once you only feel slightly hesitant to heed his command without needing to be told twice, and you eagerly shuffle around the desk to join him. You’re able to hide the nudity of your lower half behind his coat which you keep tucked around your waist even as you get settled on his legs. It was a seat you were quickly (perhaps even embarrassingly so) getting used to, and the thick arm that snakes around your middle to secure you in place was likewise becoming something comfortably familiar as well. 

The first thing you reach for is the plate, stretching across the desk to pull it closer so you can peel away the lid and find out what’s inside. A handful of neatly sliced sandwiches of a few different varieties greets you, as well as a small pile of assorted biscuits. You don’t hesitate to snag one up and pop it into your mouth, humming in delight at the taste. Chuckling softly, Wriothesley gives you a brief squeeze around the middle as his other hand slides over to pick up the abandoned stack of papers again. 

“Are you aware just how adorable you can be at times?” 

Humming in agreement, you covetously go for a sandwich next. “His grace flatters me.”

“Brat.” Giving your tummy an affectionate pinch, he turns his attention to the papers. “Another question, if you would be kind enough to humor me. Are you aware that you’ve earned yourself a few fans here in the prison?” 

You freeze in place with the dainty little triangle lifted half of the way to your waiting mouth. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Belle, the woman at the meeting earlier, slipped this note into my mailbox some time ago. She apologizes for what happened with George, and she wishes you a speedy recovery with hopes that you’ll return soon to start your sewing classes. You’re welcome to read it for yourself if you’d like.” 

Slowly, you lower the sandwich and reach out for the paper. You’re more than a little surprised to find it says exactly what he’s relayed to you. “Wha — but I don’t understand?” Dropping the sandwich altogether now, you numbly flip to the next page only to find a second letter written in two different but equally terrible sets of handwriting. Those brothers. 

“Don’t pay them much mind.” He murmurs as you scan over the, frankly, perplexing note. “They’re trouble, but mostly harmless. I won’t go so far as to say they mean well, but …” 

Thoroughly perplexed, you flip to the final page. This one is rather neat and tidy, and relievingly concise, but you can’t quite place who it would have come from. All it says is that they hoped you wouldn’t be scared off by what happened, and that they looked forward to the program being a resounding success. It was of course very flattering but rather unexpected. A bit confounding, if you were being honest. 

“Who wrote this one?” 

“His name is Gaspard. You probably didn’t notice, but he was making puppy dog eyes at you the whole time.”

Flustered heat promptly crawls up your neck to settle deep in your cheeks. “Has anyone ever told you that your sense of humor leaves much to be desired, your grace?” 

“Oh, I’m actually being quite serious. I thought for sure if I was going to have to pry someone off you it was going to be him.” 

Another teasing pinch at your waist accompanies that and you sigh out through your nose, trying very hard not to let his foolishness distract you. “May I ask what he’s serving time for? This handwriting looks very well practiced, and his spelling is perfect.”

With a quiet hum, Wriothesley leans to the side to brace his chin in the palm of his hand. “He’s in for embezzlement.” 

“Embezzlement!” You squawk, beyond horrified. “B - b - but if it’s the man I’m thinking of, he was so polite and quiet! I thought he was just shy so I didn’t want to draw too much attention to him!” 

“Those are the ones you have to watch out for the most.” He laughs. “You’ll learn that in due time. The ones like George are mostly all bark and no bite, unless you back them into a corner. Gaspard’s type is way more dangerous because you can never be quite sure what they’re thinking.” 

More than just a bit ruffled, you defensively clutch the small stack of letters to your chest. “So then I suppose that would put you in the latter category?” 

“Hm … I suppose it would.” 

With a click of your tongue, you set the papers aside and primly return to your sandwich. “Regardless, I think it’s clear how we should proceed. We need to get a seamstress out to the prison as soon as possible for Belle, and I’m sure we can find a willing chef for those two troublemakers as well.” You pause with the little triangle almost up to your mouth again, hesitating a moment before slowly lowering it once more. “That is — if you’d still like to work with me going forward. I’m sure you probably have some reservations after what happened today, but I promise I’ll be more cautious next time and - -“ 

“Hush. I’m not going to take it away from you like a toy you’re not allowed to play with anymore. You’ll still have your little program and I’ll still work with you to help you implement it. You’ll just have to be a bit more closely supervised with it going forward.” 

“… you are truly detestable sometimes.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

Wriothesley thankfully lets you eat in peace after that, and your stomach is quite glad for it. You happily scarf down two sandwiches and another cookie to go with your cup of tea, but you quickly begin to feel full. Eventually, you find yourself leaning back against his chest with your head resting along his shoulder, and you just quietly watch him work through a different stack of papers, this one much more formidable than your measly pile. You were going to cherish them forever though, even had half a mind to go out and have them framed immediately, but that seemed a little excessive, even for you. 

The intimate atmosphere and the close proximity with him almost has you dozing again, but the large hand idly rubbing over your tummy keeps you more or less grounded in reality, you sigh, very softly, when he eventually gives you an attention grabbing pinch some indeterminable amount of time later. 

“You’re not falling asleep on me again, are you?” 

“No, your grace. I am only resting.” 

“Good.” He says rather amicably, setting the sheet in his hand down. “Because there’s still the matter of your punishment to go over.” 

Groaning, you let your head loll back against his shoulder to look up at the ceiling. “You really never let anything go, do you?” 

“It would be remiss of me if I did. More importantly though, I wanted to show you something. Do you remember what I said earlier, about getting spanked with something much worse than a hairbrush?” 

You immediately lurch on top of him, skin crawling at just the thought as you try to jump up off his lap and escape, but Wriothesley just tightens his arm around you to keep you pinned even when you inelegantly flail. “Wait — that’s not fair, your grace, I — ow!” 

The hard slam of your knee against his desk has you whimpering in pain, and he quickly takes advantage of that stunned moment to haul you back and secure you more firmly in place. “That’s what you get for jumping to conclusions. Let that be a lesson to you.” Sighing, he presses his mouth to the top of your head in a lingering kiss while you try to shake out the hurt from your leg. “Troublesome girl.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you right now!” You snip, still rubbing at your bruised knee. “And what were you even talking about? I don’t think I deserve to be struck with a stick or a measuring rod, or — or - -“

“You don’t, you’re right about that. But I want to show you what comes after the hairbrush, if you’ll let me. I’d like to think having that knowledge in the back of your mind might give you enough incentive to make better decisions in the future, but given how hard headed you are … maybe it won’t.” 

Huffing, you petulantly cross your arms. “You only want to show me?” You didn’t trust it at all. Not one bit. 

“I planned to actually strike you with it, of course. Otherwise it would just be an empty threat and you’d have no baseline to gauge how far you’re willing to go just to throw a fit over something. But how about this? I’ll make you a deal. You like when I do that, don’t you?” 

You were loath to admit it out loud but you did indeed, and your pussy slowly clenches with interest. Damn him straight to the abyss and back. “I’m listening.” 

“Good girl. I figured you would be.” Another kiss pressed to the top of your head, his breath displacing some of the flyaways there. “You get to choose then. Would you like me to round off your punishment with my hand and twenty strokes of the hairbrush, or would you prefer to take six from the mystery implement?” 

Twisting around in his hold, you look up at him in abject shock. “Only six?” 

“Only six.” He confirms. 

“And you won’t tell me what it is first? Is it really that bad?”

“No, and no. It’s just a different kind of pain, is all. Something you aren’t used to. I strongly suspect if I told you beforehand, you’d be too frightened to take it on and would instead gladly subject your poor bottom to a much worse fate than it needs to suffer.” Drawing a stilted breath, Wriothesley slips one of his hands under the jacket to caress along your bare thigh, warming the skin under his palm. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve already been appropriately corrected. There’s no need to actually take you over my knee unless you leave me with no other choice. The second option is preferable for both of us, first and foremost because I intend for it to be a warning more than anything. The choice is yours though, little miss. I am but at your beck and call.” 

You snort at that and pin him with a wry look. “Sure. I might believe that when pigs fly.” With a shake of your head, you turn back around so you can slump against him, listlessly picking at the fur trim on his jacket in your lap while you think it over. One was obviously the better sounding choice but … didn’t that mean it was a trap? 

Big, burly arms squeezing around you, Wriothesley bends close to kiss your temple, your cheek, down to your neck. They’re soft and fleeting, decidedly, chaste, and yet they still make your pulse start to thrum a little faster. You really were regrettably weak for him. It just wasn’t fair.  

“May I add an extra term onto our deal?” 

“Let’s hear it.” 

“If I choose the second option, will … will you play with me afterward?” 

He seems to hesitate against you, no doubt catching onto your meaning. “I was planning on doing that anyway. I always make sure you get rewarded at the end, don’t I?” A lingering kiss pressed into your temple. 

You were really starting to become hot and flustered again, and it shows in the way your voice strains slightly. “I don’t mean like that. I — I think I want you to touch me, your grace.” 

This time he really does go still. A long beat of quiet punctuates the moment, and then he shifts against you, speaking across the side of your face. “Where do you want me to touch you, pretty girl? Between your legs?” 

Just hearing him say it makes you shudder from your head straight down to your toes, and you fitfully twist on his lap so you can tip your head back to look at him. “Everywhere, sir. Between my legs and — my chest too. If you want.” 

“Of course I want to, silly thing.” Breathing out a rather terse exhale, he tips his head to kiss your mouth but it is regretfully short lived, and you whine softly when he retreats again. “I need you to clarify something for me first though, so I know exactly what it is you’re comfortable with. Do you want to get completely undressed for me or would you rather I touch you through your shirt?” 

“O - oh.” You hadn’t thought about it that far, and you shyly avert your gaze. Although you did want to feel his hands on your breasts, the thought of being completely nude with him was a daunting one indeed. It was silly, of course, but that seemed like something of a big step and a potentially awkward one at that. “I … I don’t know if I’m ready to get naked yet so — through my shirt?” 

“Through your shirt it is.” He agrees, pressing his mouth to your cheek in a hard, reassuring kiss. It makes you squirm, just a little bit, how willing he is to humor you in this way, but you think that it probably means more to you than you even fully realize. “You’re a good girl, you know that?” He murmurs against your skin. “I’m so proud of you for being honest with me. I know that’s not always easy for you to do.” 

“Enough already.” You huff in embarrassed fluster, making him chuckle. 

“Don’t start getting cranky. I don’t want to have to really spank you if I don’t have to.” Finally, he pulls all the way back to give you some space, patting your leg under the jacket. “Alright. Stand up and put your hands on the desk for me. We’ll do this standing up.” 

Suddenly confused, you hesitate just a moment before rocking forward with no shortage of hesitation. He didn’t often strike you while standing. Usually only when he was made to grab you to stop you from scuttling away and a chair or other wasn’t readily available … 

You try not to think about that too hard though as you find your feet with his coat somewhat awkwardly clutched to your front still. He reaches around to take it from you and you reluctantly let it go, shivering when it falls away to leave you bared from the waist down. Shuffling forward a step, you then reach out and slowly place your hands palm down on the desk while he stands up behind you, pushing the chair further back to allow for some space. 

Wriothesley presses up close behind you then, making a fresh shudder work down your spine as he leans over you to gently reposition your palms a little further apart. He reaches down to take your waist next so he can carefully bend you forward with your legs squared, nice and firmly rooted. You aren’t quite sure what to make of it all but his hands feel decidedly nice on you, and you just sigh very softly when he moves back. The following moment or two of rustling further leaves you stumped, especially when you catch a soft metallic click on the air, and you have to try very hard not to turn around and look. He seemed quite sure whatever it was would startle you a great deal but … 

When he eventually comes up beside you again, you turn your head to look at the hand he holds out towards you. Your brows make a prompt, very expeditious trip up to your hairline. 

“Wha — y - your belt, sir?” You warble out on a squeak, genuinely flabbergasted by this revelation. 

He chuckles faintly, snapping your wide eyed attention up at him so fast it nearly makes your head spin. “That look on your face is exactly why I didn’t tell you outright but it sounds worse than it actually is. At least the way I’m going to do it is.” 

“W - which would be?” You ask, nervously glancing at the folded over strip of leather with a great deal of fast mounting horror. 

“We’ll start off slow and work our way up in intensity, but even by the end I won’t be using too much force. My goal isn’t to actually hurt you, just teach you. See, the thing about this is it covers a wider area. I can strike you across both cheeks in one swing, and the relative flexibility of the leather means it carries a sharper sting with it as well. I don’t think it’ll take much to have you dancing on your toes, so I probably won’t even end up using a fraction of my strength when all is said and done. Does all of that sound agreeable to you, little miss?” 

You work to swallow down your nerves and almost choke on it. “I … I suppose so. But — if I really can’t take it, will you stop?” 

“Of course I will. I have no interest in brutalizing you or anything of the sort. That being said though I’m confident that you’ll do just fine. Who knows? You might even enjoy it.” 

A wholly mirthless laugh punches out of your throat. “I’m really not sure about that, your grace.” 

“Then let’s find out.” 

Transfixed, you follow the motion of the folded over belt when he lifts it in one hand and then slaps it down into the waiting palm of the other. You startle at the loud, meaty whap! and suddenly your blood turns to ice. You can feel yourself slipping under alarmingly fast, whatever the incomprehensible shroud was that blanketed your mind every time you ended up in these situations with him, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to do much to shield you from the full brunt of it in this particular instance. 

Trying very hard not to shake when he steps behind you, you tip your face down to stare blankly down at the desk. The tension thrumming through your body is thick enough to suffocate and nauseatingly cloying. Just thinking about him hitting you with that was enough to make you sick … 

“Oh, and just a word of advice.” He tacks on, standing about a step behind you by the sound of it. “Try to breathe through it as much as you can. That will help more than anything else.” 

“… yes, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

His fingertips brush across your ass then, and you jolt so hard you almost come right up off the floor. Wriothesley just takes a moment to coo at you though, chiding you softly for being so jumpy, but it was a little hard not to be! You felt like you were going to vibrate right out of existence, and the heavy weight of nervous anticipation was not making it any better. You’re such a mess of nerves and sharp adrenaline that you barely even notice the way your skin prickles under his hand, still hot to the touch and tender from your earlier spanking, and you wince slightly as he rubs over your bottom. It seems like a cruel thing to do, getting you sensitized and warmed up for his belt like this. 

“I’m going to start.” He finally warns you as his hand retreats, and you immediately brace for the deafening crack and the splintering pain to go with it. 

To your flinching surprise, however, the belt just lightly swats across your bottom with a soft little pap! and you absolutely hate the way you still violently lurch, having expected much worse. Your cheeks immediately flood with heat as he laughs softly behind you at the big reaction. 

“I told you we’d work our way up. That’s one. Count for me, pretty girl.” 

You obediently open your mouth but you only make it so far as drawing a breath to respond when the belt slaps across your ass, a little harder this time. You notice the sting he’d mentioned immediately, as well as the insidious reach it has across the swell of both cheeks, but all it does is make you rock forward on your toes a bit. You’d never admit it out loud to him, but he was right. This wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it would be. 

And that was precisely why you didn’t trust it. 

“… two, sir.” 

“Good girl. Your bottom looks mighty cute like this, by the way. I think I could get used to seeing you bent over my desk.” 

You clench your teeth, half in annoyance and half to brace for the next hit. If they kept steadily increasing like that … 

Whap! 

This one subtly jerks you forward with the impact and you wheeze over the desk, trying and failing to process just how sharp the sting really is. It leaves you dizzy, a bit stunned in the aftermath as prickling fire welts up over the swell of your bottom. It has your toes curling in their shoes, skin crawling with needle pinpricks as you work to steady yourself. Okay, that was marginally worse than his hand but still not quite as bad as the hairbrush. 

“Ooh … three, sir …” 

“You’re doing very well so far. What do you think of it?” 

You weren’t entirely sure you were properly equipped to answer that question at the moment, but after a short beat of consideration you finally say, “I see what you meant. It’s a different kind of pain, but it’s not terrible.” 

“It could be.” 

You snort. “I bet it could.”

Wriothesley shifts behind you making you instinctively brace for the next hit, but it never comes. Instead, he speaks again after a drawn out pause. “Do you really trust me not to get carried with it, and to know your pain threshold better than you do?” 

That seemed like an odd question to ask after all this time, but you decide you can humor it as you readjust your feet with a quick shuffle. “I do, your grace. You push me sometimes but you’ve never actually crossed that line. Until you do, I trust you.” 

“That’s very generous of you.” He murmurs, a note of humor in his voice now. “Incidentally, I think you should know that I trust you as well. I suppose that makes us even.” 

A dull trickle of surprise washes over you, but before you can fully process what he’d said the next strike comes with a considerably louder crack and it startles an ‘oh!’ out of you. Rocking forward on your toes, seething, you gingerly shift your weight from one side to the other but it does absolutely nothing to dispel the throbbing strip across your backside. It really was insidious how it could catch the meatiest parts of your ass in a single blow, and you carefully try to stretch it out with a dramatic curve of your spine. 

“That’s quite a show you're putting on for me right now, pretty girl.” Wriothesley drawls in a low tone that sounds like silk in your pounding ears. “Are you sure you don’t want to take your top off? I’m already seeing quite a lot …” 

Whimpering faintly, you shyly squeeze your thighs together and straighten slightly. “Don’t be a pig …” 

“My apologies. It’s so easy to forget my manners when you’re presenting such a cute pussy to me like that. I’ll be sure to mind myself.” 

“Ooh … will you touch it, your grace?” 

“Yes. Gladly. But only after we’re done.” He says. Then, much more softly, “It will be a reward for the both of us.” 

You draw a steadying breath and force your constricting lungs to expand with it as you carefully resume the position he’d put you in, or something close to it. “Four, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

This time you know the swing is coming because you can hear the displacement in the air, and it seems to catch you in a particularly vulnerable spot, because you dance up on your toes with a frazzled yelp. The sting of unshed tears in your eyes quickly joins the splintering sensation across your decidedly sore bottom, and you sniffle rather sadly at the hurt. You understood now why he’d set the count to six, and you were immensely glad for it. 

“F - five, sir …” 

Wriothesley’s hand abruptly finds your shuddering back and you jolt before stiffly relaxing into his touch. Gently, reassuringly, he drags that massive palm across you in slow, coaxing circles. “There, you’re almost done. I’ll let you decide when you’re ready for the last stroke.” 

You can’t decide if that makes it better or worse, but you take a moment to collect yourself, just taking slow, deep breaths, just like he’d said to. It does help, a little bit, but the searing line across your ass is very hard to ignore. You were undoubtedly scared of what was coming and, yet, his steady presence at your side was a comforting one. You could do this. You knew you could. Not for him, but because of him. 

Gingerly easing your body out of its defensive hunch, you carefully move back into position again.  “I’m ready, sir.” 

Your first sign that this was going to be awful is the fact that Wriothesley keeps his hand braced against your middle back and just shifts to the side. Your second is the sharp sound of it cutting through the air. 

Whap! 

Pain explodes across your entire body unlike ever before. You lurch with a wounded, faltering animal sound, unable to even scream, it was that bad! Your knees instantly turn knobbly and you practically collapse with a strained, gasping sob, but he’s right there to catch you. So lost in the swimming daze of blind agony, you barely register him holding you around the waist to keep you upright and somewhat steady, but the soft press of his mouth against your shoulder somehow still manages to catch your attention. It pulls you back into the physical world, bit by bit, at a sluggish pace, and the sound of his crooning voice soon penetrates the numbing fog to mist over you. 

“— such a good girl, I’m so proud of you for taking that so well. You didn’t even scream, and I thought for sure you would on the last one. Do you have any idea how much strength that took? You’re such a precious thing.” 

Groaning dizzily, you slowly start to straighten up under his helpful guidance, and you don’t protest when he gently steers you back towards the chair with a hiccuping mewl. You’re glad for it, in fact. You just wanted to crawl into his lap and cling to him for the rest of the day. Night? You weren’t even sure what time it was. How long had you fallen asleep for? 

You feel well and truly delirious as he sits down and gets situated behind you before reaching back up to tug you into his lap, and you viciously seethe the moment your throbbing ass brushes his pants. Making a valiant effort to arch up off him and escape the pressure, you openly sob when he just pulls you right down. You writhe at the pain, twisting in his arms but then — you abruptly realize where his hands are headed. 

Choking on a stuttering gasp, you tip your tear stained face down with a confused little whimper to watch his palms drag up the front of your body, further rucking and irreparably wrinkling your jumper in the process. They smooth over the curve of your breasts and then pause to give them a savory squeeze, and you shudder intensely at the sensation. You’d never been touched like this before. Not by anyone, and it surprises you how sensitive your chest is under the weight of his hands. Your nipples immediately spring up even under your clothes, and you fitfully turn your head to rest across his shoulder with a half strangled wail. 

“These feel so good in my hands, pretty girl. Is this what you wanted me to do? Hm?” 

Screwing your eyes shut against the onslaught of so many sensations all at once — the pain and the pleasure so horribly intermingled that you could hardly tell them apart anymore — you offer a quick, jerky nod. “Mhm!” 

Wriothesley breathes out a terse sigh against the side of your head and nuzzles further into you while his hands keep fondling your breasts. “Good. They seem sensitive. There are a lot of fun things we could do with that information, you know. I have a few — toys you might be interested in later. Do you like having your pretty tits played with? You certainly look like you do …” 

Whining low in your throat, you shudderingly arch to shove your chest further out, and he takes advantage of that to squish them up and together. A deeply frazzled moan rattles out of you when he jostles them for a brief moment before letting them go so that they bounce back into place. He groans, very softly, as he quickly cups around the swell of them again, just holding them in his palms for a moment while he bends close to kiss you. 

You’re sinking alarmingly fast, much too fast to make any sense of it, and you clutch at his shirt in a fitful, twisting death grip. He doesn’t even seem to notice, just hungrily kissing you for a tortuously long stretch before eventually pulling back with a stilted exhale. Meaningfully, he sends his gaze lower and you follow his lead, slowly looking down at yourself just to find your tits straining up even through two shirts and a brassier. You issue a low, wounded sound, watching through the impossibly heavy fall of your lashes as he brings his hands up to delicately pluck at the stiffened buds. That alone is almost too much, both the sensation and the visual, but he really starts to tug on them. 

“You like that, do you?” He chuckles at all your sensitive quivering. “I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m more of an ass man myself, but these are nice too. Very nice, indeed. They fit so nicely in my hands, almost like they were made for them. And your nipples … oh, sweet girl, are you going to cum just from having me play with them?” 

That didn’t seem to be as much of a preposterous suggestion as you would have otherwise thought when you were currently wrestling with the thrumming tension that spikes through your body. You’d never felt quite so hot or overly sensitive, and you keen at the growing need threatening to swallow you whole. 

Evidently catching on, Wriothesley drags one of his hands down across your front, over your belly and straight down to dip between your trembling thighs. You feel him experimentally touch over your slit for a brief moment, familiarizing himself with it, before pressing his fingers into meaty lips to spread them. You rock violently in his hold and instinctively curl your legs out wide even when they weakly twitch in the air, keeping them spread for him. You’re not sure what you were expecting in your punch drunk state of mind, but it shocks a flustered yelp out of you when he slips in to tease over your clit. It has you twitching, twisting and writhing against him for everything you’re worth. The calloused pad on the tip seems to catch at soft flesh even with the excessive slick coating you and he tauntingly nudges at the delicate little pleasure button, just drawing it back and forth, up and down for a moment, before starting to press down more firmly. You promptly go cross eyed, lurching in his lap with a gutted moan. 

The direct contact felt so good … so good you could hardly even stand it, and it brings fresh tears to your eyes. You liked rubbing yourself on his thighs. Thought you’d liked that the most and that you couldn’t like anything else better — but this was overwhelming your already cotton stuffed head alarmingly quick, and the way he continues to pluck at one of your nipples did not seem to be helping you in the slightest. You were going to vibrate right off him if he kept that up! 

“Y - your grace! Ooohhnnggh!” 

“Do you enjoy that, little miss? Hm?” He nuzzles against the side of your head, pressing idle kisses to your temple again. 

“Ahhnn … yes! I do, your grace! I - I feel like I’m gonna’ — oohh!”

With a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate against your back, Wriothesley reaches across to the other breast to give it a savory, pinching knead. Fitful and needy, you impulsively reach down with trembling hands to grab the hem of your jumper so you can yank it up to bunch under your chin. He obliges you by grabbing at your tit again, through just the thin layer of your blouse now, and you somehow manage to shake even harder when he digs his fingers in to tug at the brassier underneath. It’s hard to do indirectly like this and he jostles you slightly with the effort, but you still feel the exact moment your stiff teat slips out of the top of the cup and you just shake even harder. 

“I bet you do. Such a sensitive little girl you are …” Pulling in a carefully tempered breath, he abandons that tit much to your blubbering disappointment and reaches over to do the same to the other. Pinching through fabric to grab at the lacy material underneath and nudge it down enough to leave both nipples cutting up directly into the fabric of your shirt. You writhe on top of him with a back bowing shudder and blindly grab at him, his arms, his shirt, the now rumpled collar of his button up, whining a low plea. “Hush. I’ve got you. Bring your hands up for me and wrap them around my neck. Think you can do that for me?” 

Offering a stilted nod, you do as he’d asked without question or even much thought to the matter. Later you might wonder why you’re so obedient and pliable with him like this, but in the heat of the moment you find nothing but pleasure, and deep satisfaction at the rumbling noise of approval he gives you when your arms stretch up to curl over his shoulders in a loose hold. The position proves a bit awkward when you can’t get a very good grip on him, but the reason for it quickly makes itself known. Your tits lift under your shirt with the upward motion to jut further out, and his blocky hand quickly descends upon one, pinching the tightly coiled teat to leave you moaning in equal parts distress and delight. 

“Ooh, isn’t that a lovely sound? You really are going to be the death of me … let me show you something nice now. You’ll like it, I promise.” 

The blocky fingers on your clit slowly retreat and you hiss at the loss only to choke on it a heartbeat later when he firmly presses them over your slit. He gives them a sedate rub and your pelvis involuntarily jumps, pressing up into them with a juddering twitch, eager for more. Desperate for it. 

“There, now move with me, pretty girl. Just like you do when you’re grinding this sweet pussy on my leg … that’s it, move your hips. Back and forth. Just follow the motion of my hand — see, you’ve got it. Keep going and don’t stop until you’re shaking for me.”

You suck in a thick, heavy gasp as you bring your swimming attention back down to look at the way you’re spread open on top of him. The wide stretch of your legs is shameful and a little embarrassing even now, but your cunt looks so small and dainty rubbing against his big hand while your thighs quack around it and you can’t quite bring yourself to care about it right now. Wheezing, you rock your pelvis up to follow the friction of his rough fingers before swiveling back and — you outright choke when your sore ass grinds down on him in the process. The faintly raised welts seem to crawl and sting with renewed fervor at the brush of his pants, the hard press of his cock digging up into you in search of the hot, wet warmth between your legs. Your pussy squeezes wildly at the sharp pain, drools yet more sticky slick to coat you in an obscene amount of liquid arousal, and you quickly do it again. Up against the firm pressure of his hand and then back again to rub your sore bottom on him. 

It doesn’t take long for you to start quaking in earnest like this and you cling to him desperately as the tension in your body rapidly swells, threatening to bowl you right over if you weren’t careful. But as always Wriothesley’s hold on you is absolute, and you’re free to shake and twist as wildly as you want without having to worry about falling. The hand on your chest alternates between your breasts, squeezing, pinching, tugging at your nipples, each in turn, to leave them feeling raw and sensitized through your shirt while the other keeps guiding your pelvis through the stuttering motion. Maintaining it becomes more difficult with the steady locking of your muscles as warning tremors wrack through you, but he remains an ever steady presence around you and it’s so easy to get lost and swept up in his pace. 

Your cunt tilts up against his hand and then your ass nudges back to make dull throbs of pain erupt across your bottom. 

Up against his hand with a sticky glide that does absolutely nothing to stop his rough skin from dragging against petal soft folds, then back to feel the weight of him digging into sore flesh that burns at the friction against his slacks. 

Up against his hand, back against his cock. 

His hand, his cock. 

Wriothesley’s hand and Wriothesley’s cock. 

The coil snaps. Just like that. 

Throwing your head back against his shoulder, you wail through your soul shattering release as quietly as you can manage. You seethe, you hiss, you groan, low and faltering. You squeal and you wheeze, bucking uncontrollably with a frantic desperation that he takes in stride. His hold on you doesn’t falter, and he neither grunts or flinches even when you spasm on top of him without heed. He’s like a solid wall underneath you, and he pets you through it all until you finally, at last, start to come down from it some moments later one jagged piece of you at a time. 

Going boneless with a haggard noise of deep sated pleasure, you just lay there for a long while and let him caress over you to leave pleasantly warm tingles in the wake of his hands. It’s comfortable like that, there with him. Sitting in the stillness of his office in the buzzing afterglow of release, simply listening to each other's heartbeats for a long time. He was right to say this was something he could get used to, because you could too. 

And strangely enough that thought doesn’t frighten you half as much as it probably would have at one time. 

“You’re a very good girl for me, you know that?” Wriothesley says at last, finally interrupting the quiet. 

Snuggling deeper into his body with a content little sigh, you tip your head back to look up at him from just a scant few millimeters away. “You’re very good to me as well, you’re grace. T - … thank you for that.” 

A slow smile tugs at his mouth to accompany the almost wry quirk of his brow. “Oh, am I now? Well, you’re very welcome, of course, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t half expect a different sentiment.”

You frown at that, unable to stop it. “You are easily the most frustrating, blockheaded man I have ever met, and I won’t deny that, but you — you’re kind to me, aren’t you? In your own strange way.” 

“I try to be.” He relents, his gaze drifting lower to fix upon your mouth. You can tell he’s thinking about kissing you again by the way his eyelids droop to attractive halfmast, but you reach up to cup the strong ridge of his jaw before he can follow through on it. 

“Can I … be kind to you as well, sir?” You give your butt a pointed little wiggle down onto the hard length straining under you, and his brows draw together as if in great discomfort. 

“As much as I would like that,” He intones rather thinly. “And for as much as I am tempted, I would rather teach you about that somewhere a bit more appropriate than in my office. At your home. In the comfort of your own bed, if you would permit it, sounds ideal to me.” 

You hesitate to respond just a moment too long, still a little overwhelmed at the thought of sharing your bed with him despite the eager thrum you feel at the suggestion, and he takes the chance to gather you against him in a tight squeeze. 

“There isn’t any rush, sweet girl. Whenever you’re ready, you will have me. I just want to ensure you receive the care and attention you deserve first and foremost, and I also want you to feel safe. Your bedroom will represent that final boundary and when you’re prepared to invite me into your life like that, that is when I will take you. That sounds fair enough, doesn’t it?” 

You want to tell him you are ready, that you want him now, you’re sure of it. Your body and mind alike both seem to crave the intimacy of skin on skin contact with him, while your heart … 

Oh, you simply couldn’t think about that right now. 

“Yes, your grace.” You murmur instead of any number of other things you could have said to him, wanted to say to him. Needed to say. “That sounds fair.” 

“Good.” Wriothesley gives you a reassuring pinch to make you squirm slightly in his arms. “Then I think with that settled it’s about time you and I considered making things somewhat official. Do you think you can stand to be seen with me in public in a non professional capacity for an hour or two?”

Going still against him, you frantically try to parse what he’s asking, what he’s getting at. Make it official? “What do you mean, my lord? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” 

“I’d like to take you out to dinner, little miss. On a date.” 

Your face instantly lights up like a firework. A date? With the Duke of Meropide himself? 

Oh, but you suddenly felt terribly faint. 

“I … I think I’d like that, your grace. Thank you.” 

“Wonderful. Then that is what we will do.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #self insert bullshit

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bad Buddy x ATOTS aka Damn You WMT

Dear @waitmyturtles, fuck you, respectfully wen-kexing-apologist. Turts, I have shit to do, I do not have time for this. But once again I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT SO, FUCK ME I GUESS WE’RE DOING A FOREST EPISODE. 

More specifically, we are doing an Our Skyy 2, Episode 15 Part 1/4 post, probably far earlier than I should be, and definitely instead of doing work I absolutely need to be doing. But Pat and Phupa’s interactions in this part of the episode have me thinking about Phupa and his relationship to queerness. 

I don’t know about anyone else, but I had a marvelous time watching Part 1 of our latest Bad Buddy x ATOTS crossover episode. Why? Because it is absolutely incredibly fun to watch Pat personally terrorize the local gay elder. 

What I have really been enjoying in these crossover episodes is watching the ways the similarities and differences in Phupa, Pat, Pran, and Tian play out. Each person spends most of the time paired with the character who play the same role in the relationship but whose personalities and approaches to their relationships are very different. Phupa is the support in his relationship with Tian, Pat is the support in his relationship with Pran, but Phupa never bends and Pat always gives in. 

The thing I love about Pat is that he is unabashed in his queerness, he rolls up on to the scene and starts flirting the second he opens his mouth, and then he 

Literally

Never

Stops

He annoys Pran, he tests the structural integrity of the house with Pran, sure, but he also wakes up next to Phupa and then proceeds to never let Phupa forget that a) he would and b) that they thought they might have. 

He rolls up on the scene as Phupa and his coworker are getting ready to head into the forest, and he starts talking openly and loudly about Phupa’s boyfriend, and the relationship problems they are having. 

Phupa is less than amused.

Phupa does not want Pat coming with him, Pat sneaks into the back of the truck, Phupa begrudgingly allows Pat to come with him and Pat says “you’re the cutest”

Phupa is less than amused. 

I’m gonna skip ahead a little bit and then regress if that is okay with everyone, after Phupa puts bandaid’s on Pat says yet again “what a cute print, Chief”, “you have a cute side, Chief” 

“No wonder teacher is head over heels for you,” 

Here Pat is, one half of the first queer couple to interact with Phupa and Tian in god knows how long or possibly ever, talking casually, happily, loudly, and openly about Phupa’s relationship with Tian and Tian’s feelings for Phupa. Reaffirming to Phupa in a way that it is obvious that Tian is in love with him.  

And still Phupa is not having it. 

As they continue their walk, Pat starts smelling the trees and Phupa is like oh jesus fucking christ what the hell are you doing you are making my life a living hell- “What are you doing?” 

And in response, Pat is very open and sappy about Pran. 

gif from @liyazaki

“Pran smells so good, if he is nearby, I can find him,” and Phupa is flabbergasted. He just stands there for a second, looking Pat up and down like “okay, seriously…what the fuck?” and he is so obvious about it in the way he looks at Pat and in the way he walks away, that Pat is able to tell immediately that Phupa is, once again, not vibing with Pat’s casual references to his queerness, or overt and honest love and admission of intimacy with his partner. Pat knows Pran’s scent so well that he is confident he could pick it up in the middle of the forest. That suggests a level of familiarity with a body that would traditionally be considered uncouth, if you were polite, and doubly so if you are queer. 

gif from @liyazaki

When Phupa starts walking like he’s over the conversation, Pat’s easy smile shifts to confusion “What? Haven’t you smelled Teacher’s body before?” 

(Translation: Aren’t you also so in love with your partner, and aren’t you so intimate with your partner that you could recognize his scent anywhere you went? Looking at you watermelon soap sponsorship…looking at you tea bag smell pouch…)

And it’s the inclusion of the word body that really strikes me here, because to say “what? Haven’t you smelled Teacher before?” evokes a different relationship than “What? Haven’t you smelled Teacher’s body?” does. 

“That’s too bad” Pat says, and leans suggestively close to Phupa. Like a cat toying with a mouse. Pat likes needling at Phupa’s discomfort around explicit references to Pat and Pran’s sex life. And while we know Phupa has most certainly smelled Tian’s body before, Phupa SPINS around, has this brief moment of absolute wide eye about being so blatantly asked a question that alludes to his physical relationship to and with Tian, looks Pat dead in the eye and says “I’m not a pervert like you,”

gif from @liyazaki

Harsh words. Incredibly harsh words, especially because of the connotations of queerness with perversion, especially because iirc from the KinnPorsche LGBTQ+ Facts special on IQIYI, pervert is often an insult used in Thailand for queer people. Phupa is uncomfortable with Pat’s open conversation about his queer relationship, about his queer intimacy and he chooses to meet Pat with homophobia in the way of a slur. 

But Pat is having fun, and I honestly believe he expects that kind of reaction. Pat and Pran were awkward witnesses to Tian and Phupa’s little domestic about watching him shower and looking lovingly into their eyes, but Phupa is stiff the whole time, he is aware that he is engaging in that conversation while other people are present, and he can’t take it and he literally flees. And some of that is because he is getting riled up about their fight, but we see in part 2 of this episode that when Phupa is actually angry with Tian about something, he has no problem standing up and planting his feet to confront Tian about it. 

Anyway, Pat is having fun, and Pat wants to test Phupa and so, completely unphased he starts talking about how Tian smells, as if he is familiar. He is like "my boyfriend smells soooo good, do you smell your boyfriend's body? Your boyfriend smells good" and it’s a direct display of Pat's comfortability with his partner, their closeness, and their level of intimacy. 

“Teacher Tian smells so good” Pat says with the world’s widest grin 

“How do you know that?” Phupa asks almost challenging

“I thought you said you’d never smelled him” 

gif from @liyazaki

Caught ya. Phupa has indirectly admitted to intimacy. Pat has successfully engaged Phupa in a conversation that is completely about Phupa’s queerness. 

And as Part 2 goes on, we are made more and more aware of how little outward public affection Phupa and Tian engage in. If Phupa and Tian touch around other people, there has to be a legitimate reason to do so (Tian fainted, Tian fainted again, Tian fainted a third time, Tian is drunk, Phupa is drunk, etc.). In this episode, Tian is weak and almost collapses in to Phupa’s arms because he exerted himself too much with his heart. Phupa’s hand is on Tian’s back and then Tian is away from him and standing upright, and when Phupa, Tian, Pat, and Pran exit the forest and enter the clearing of the safe house. 

Pat is using Pran as a crutch, and Phupa and Tian have placed a child in between them. They are not touching, they aren’t even standing all that close to each other. Phupa is in ranger mode, sure, but he’s not really in front of people he has to impress, he doesn’t have to be completely professional and on guard when they are in the shack together. Especially when his partner with a body that is currently trying to reject his heart, is sitting there looking on the verge of a heart attack. 

Phupa is making direct eye contact with Tian here, he is worried about Tian here, his focus is on Tian here, and yet he does not offer any physical comfort. No reassuring touch, no forehead kiss, hell, not even a hand on the back of his head to check for fever. He’s focused on getting the radio working, which is incredibly important in case there is a medical emergency, but he does not spare a second to physically ground him and Tian. He can only look from a distance. Because there are other people around, there is a child around. Phupa can’t be seen engaging in homosexual softness, Phupa has to be seen as a forest ranger, doing his job, his actual job that involves rescuing his stubborn dumbass boyfriend from yet again getting lost in the forest, but does not involve him being in love. 

Again, Phupa truly has no one here he needs to impress, he’s in a room with a child, his boyfriend, and a couple of nuisances that have shown him absolutely zero respect since the moment they waltzed in to his neck of the woods. 

At dinner even, after things have settled down, Phupa still cannot bring himself close to Tian in front of prying eyes. 

Pat and Pran? Literally sitting side by side, knees touching. They are as close to each other as they possibly can be without literally sitting in each other’s laps. 

Here is a close up of Pat and Pran literally making physical contact with each other at the knee and at the elbow. 

And what Phupa and Tian do not know, is that Pat and Pran can't be outwardly and openly affectionate to one another in public when they are at school and so they make up for it by being disgusting when they aren't in school. Pat and Pran have to keep up a pretense, and its a tragic undertone to their ability to diffuse the brewing Tian and Phupa fight by looking at each other, nodding, and then improvising a fight realistic enough to get Phupa and Tian to pull them apart. 

Because Pat and Pran’s relationship at home is a metaphor for external homophobia, because they are so used to it by now, the having to hide, to pretend they don’t like each other, to pretend they are mad, to pretend they aren’t in love, that they can just ease right in to staged fights at the drop of a fucking hat. But even in their fake fight they wind up pressed up against each other. 

(hehe, screen shot funny, look at Phupa, he zoomin’)

Because for so long the only way they could have physical contact in public was by fighting, was by beating each other up, was by pushing or pulling each other away from a fight. Pat and Pran understand that Tian and Phupa are having a fight that they also once had, but they can also see the parts underneath it, the parts that make Phupa ask why the emphasis on him in Tian’s story is about Phupa being in love with Tian rather than his work. 

Pat is simultaneously taking the opportunity of being hours and hours away from home, from where he has to hide his relationship, to be as openly and obviously in love with Pran as he has always been and is telling Phupa he is safe to be gay around. That he and Pran are safe people to be gay around, are safe people for him to be openly affectionate with his boyfriend around. 

And that stems from the parts of Pat and Phupa that are wildly different. 

Like, it is very very notable that Pat confesses his feelings for Pran practically as soon as he realizes that he has feelings for him and initiates the rooftop kiss which they share before they are even together, and then they have a bunch of little kisses, and they sneak as many touches as they can, and they make out multiple times in the show 

And Phupa and Tian have…a single forehead kiss and then one kiss, at the top of a mountain, where no one would ever be able to see them after their story is complete. 

In last week’s crossover episode, the level of intimacy that Phupa engages in with Tian is called out, even by Aof himself with the roleplaying scene between Pat and Pran where they pretend to be Phupa and Tian putting up a mosquito net and conclude that they absolutely must have kissed then. 

But we know they didn’t. We know how painstakingly long it takes for Phupa and Tian to reach that level of intimacy with one another. 

I'm even thinking backstory-wise, what is forest ranger training like? Is it part of the military? Did Phupa's gay ass have to enlist in a presumably male dominated field and like, go to training, and be around a bunch of guys, and make sure they didn't suspect he was gay?

I’m thinking about the moments in last week’s episode where it seemed like things were going better between Phupa and Tian, and it was always when Phupa was physically affectionate with Tian, putting his arm around him and not letting him go, when they were at karaoke, and when they were drunkenly stumbling home together, again locked in eachother’s embrace, where anyone could see them. 

To regress as I promised back to the leech scene I am struck by what the approach to removing the leeches says about Pat and Phupa respectively. 

Pat rips the leech off of him and Phupa takes time to put a lighter to them and pluck them off in a way that does not hurt Pat

Pat rips the leech off and bleeding for it, hurting himself in the process, because he is impulsive and impatient, Pat bleeds emotion, he's practically incapable of hiding what he's feeling, and he must obey his emotions before all else. Therefore, in Bad Buddy Episode 5, when he realizes he has feelings for Pran, Pat immediately has to talk to Pran about his feelings, immediately leans in to the emotion he is feeling in the present moment, and initiates a kiss. A kiss that leaves him feeling blissful, and that leaves him hurt because Pran walks away, because Pran has known forever how much he likes Pat, because Pat has only just figured out his feelings, he hasn’t had to sit with them for long, and yet that kiss is an equally strong release for both of them. When Phupa removes the leech from Pat’s leg he is methodical and patient, he tries to minimize the wound, it takes longer but it has the same result which is why it takes so damn long for him and Tian to get together. When I watches ATOTS and they touched pinkies under that blanket and I went "ah yes! This is the part where you start making out and fucking cause they are adults who have maybe been in a relationship before and who have both been obviously painfully aware of their feelings for eachother since the moment they laid eye on each other"...and then they don’t. Phupa waits, and waits, and waits. 

I think the fundamental thing that I see replaying in this episode especially, and with Pat and Phupa’s interactions especially is the elder versus younger queer mentality we got in Moonlight Chicken, with very different characters from Jim and Li Ming, but following a similar pattern of restraint and time versus just jumping right in. 

And it’s also why I think the conversation between Pran and Phupa is so important:

gifs by @nanons

Pat and Pran’s need to keep their relationship secret because of their family’s, and because of Pran’s mom specifically is a metaphor for external homophobia. Pat and Pran are extremely comfortable in their sexuality, very open in their love for one another when they are amongst other queer people, or amongst allies, when they are away from their hometown or when they are in the privacy of their homes. 

There are a lot of different pieces in play around Phupa and Tian’s relationship, but there is ultimately a metaphor at the most or a blatant sense at the least of internal homophobia on the part of Phupa. 

Pat has chosen to stay “in the closet” in order to be with Pran. In a convo with @shortpplfedup about this, Nini said it the most accurate and heart wrenching line: “It's honestly that Pran can't really ever compare to Pat's sacrifice here, and he KNOWS it,” 

Similarly, Phupa believes that Tian has made a sacrifice to be with him, and he knows it. Which is why he can’t bring himself to go to Tian’s birthday, because Tian has left before, because he is scared every time Tian goes that he will realize that Phupa isn’t enough. Because Phupa is afraid of being seen as Tian’s partner. Because Phupa is really only capable of being physically affectionate behind closed doors. When they are completely alone.  Cause even in the camp, when the child is sleeping and Pat and Pran are off literally fucking in the tent minding their own goddamn business, Phupa cannot bring himself to touch Tian.

They’re sharing place but not space, or whatever it was that Ayan said to Akk in their Our Skyy 2 episodes. When Phupa gives Tian his medicine, at most their fingers brush, they don’t sit down together, they don’t ground themselves with touch. They share this place, but they do not encroach on each other’s personal space…

…until Phupa falls asleep

gif by @earthpirapat

At which point Tian gets up, and places his blanket on him, and physical touches his arm, his shoulder, etc. as he is adjusting the blanket for him. 

Tian initiates the touch, Tian stayed in the village with him, Tian is sacrificing his health to be here with Phupa. Phupa has spent 90% of his time alone with the bouncing ball of sunshine that is Pat, and 5% of his time with the chaotic homosexual energy of Pat and Pran together, and to be real, as much as we know about Pat and Pran’s relationship, and as much depth as we are able to pull from these specific characters interacting in the way they do, Phupa has no idea what Pat and Pran have been through to be where they are. 

To anyone who does not know Pat and Pran’s story, they seem like nothing more than two horny young adults in love, who feel no need to hide themselves and their queerness away, that have never had a struggle in their life, and do not understand the trials and tribulations of navigating an older queer relationship, who will last the length of a honeymoon period and then disappear at the first sign of real conflict. Thus, I think Phupa grossly underestimates the company he is currently keeping.

So I think, personally, Phupa is kinda of struck by the sudden and unexpected depth that comes from Pran. That Pran is able to identify and then absolutely hone in and strike at the exact things that Phupa is struggling with. As much as Pat has both relished in the freedom he has to be disgustingly in love with his boyfriend in the woods, and as much as Pat has tried to make himself an obviously safe person to be openly gay around, Phupa is incapable of understanding what he can learn from Pat and Pran’s relationship until he realizes these boys have a lot more in common with him than he thought, and that their relationship and their relationship to one another is more complex and therefore more similar to him and Tian’s situation than he would like. 

Pran and Phupa carry the weight of feeling like nothing they do will ever compare to the sacrifices their partner has made to be with them. I didn’t get much in to Pat and Tian here, but their interaction makes it clear that they both carry the weight of feeling like their partner does not need them. 

Phupa has literally saved Tian’s life on numerous occasions, Tian is chronically ill, Tian has limitations. Phupa is a forest ranger, who is a foundation in his community, who is skilled and competent, and fiercely independent. Pat is disorganized, and impulsive, his father is the reason he and Pran can’t be open about their relationship, he is the reason Pran got sent away. 

We get a fun reversal with dynamics in these Bad Buddy x ATOTS episodes because Tian and Phupa are older, but Pat and Pran have an entire lifetime of navigating and overcoming conflict under their belt. Pat and Pran have already weathered the storm of the fight that Tian and Phupa are having. They have already settled in to who they are, but Pat and Pran (Pran especially) are able to see the ways that always giving in and never backing down wears on a person. Pran learns from seeing the pain that Tian is in that being uncompromising might cause fractures in their relationship in the future. 

Tian and Phupa (Phupa especially) are learning how to resolve their conflicts. Pran, who is holding on to Tian and Phupa’s story so tightly because it is shared, because it is open, because anyone who wants to can know about it, pushes Phupa, who cannot cope with being portrayed as being in love with Tian, to read all of the diary Tian published online. Pran pushes Phupa to push through the emotional blocks, to push past his initial concerns, and to assume Tian wrote and published this story with both an understanding of who is partner is and what Phupa is comfortable with, and with no intention of hurting anybody. 

Anyway, all of this to say, that this episode has really made me analyze Phupa with an internalized homophobia lens, and though one can never trust a P’Aof trailer, it has left me with two impressions. 

On the subject of Phupa and internalized homophobia, and needing to move past that (and more) in order for his relationship with Tian to survive this fight, @shortpplfedup said it best: 

“Now I'm thinking about one moment from the preview (but just a moment!) where Phupha tells Tian he's not gonna sneak to look at him, he's gonna OPENLY look at him”

And cause it seems like Phupa learned some things from the Bothersome Boys:

--

Case in point:

Here's multiple hours of my life I will never get back, at least I had fun! Time to go do the work I was supposed to be doing tonight :p

That's all folks!

#our skyy 2 x bad buddy #our skyy 2 x a tale of thousand stars #our skyy 2 #our skyy 2 x bad buddy x a tale of a thousand stars #bad buddy #a tale of a thousand stars #atots #patpran #pranpat #nanon korapat #ohm pawat #ohmnanon #earthmix #earth pirapat #mix sahaphap #gmmtv #aof noppharnach #our skyy 2 x bbs x atots #phupha x tian #tian x phupha #pat x pran #pran x pat #thai bl #thai series #bad buddy analysis #atots analysis #bad buddy meta #atots meta #bbs analysis

[juuuulez]

📰 | richie jerimovich x reader ; “Princess.”

🎧 -> untitled 07, kendrick lamar

info: Richie Jerimovich x Reader, no use of (y/n), reader’s nickname is princess because duh it’s cute, mention of drugs, arguing, brief mention of Mikey, brief mention of a sexual relationship, Richie just wants what’s best for you.

summary: Richie is your dealer, and also a pretty good lay. But recently he’s changed his priorities, and tries to change yours, too.

gigantic bear brainrot right now, and i was thinking about that little glimpse of dealer richie annnndd that’s sorta it! don’t like, don’t read, but the overall consensus is about recovering and breaking old habits.

i also happen to have such a soft spot for this man!!!!!! sue me!!!!!!!!!!!!! i literally wrote this in less than an hour i’m insane

Hey. You working?

Richie’s phone goes off, ironically, right when he’s on his break. Every day, he goes outside for a cigarette at the exact same time. And you know that. He knows you know that, and he also knows what you want. Of course he does. It’s always the same thing. He stopped doing this shit for a reason, but you? He’s weak. And probably stupid.

Neither of you even discuss the plan: it’s protocol at this point. Not even seconds pass, and he’s already punched in a response.

Nah. Come see me.

Minutes later, and there are footsteps approaching down the back alley, towards the door Richie lingers near. He turns to see your form approaching, watching the way you tug at the sleeves of your sweater, likely much too thin to truly combat the cold. With how hasty you’d been, Richie suspects you’d already been nearby. Likely around the corner, just waiting for the go ahead.

It’s been a few weeks since he last saw you, though Richie knew why. Because he didn’t do this shit anymore. To reach out again, you must’ve been desperate. He could work with that.

“Princess.” He greets, nursing a lit cigarette between sharp teeth.

You’re sighing, a look of exasperation on that pretty little face. A mix of relief, and discomfort, at being out in this weather. “You’re my saviour, you know that, right?”

Richie scoffs, already approaching. Closing the gap between you two. “Find that one hard to believe.” He mutters.

As usual, you move in to intrude on Richie’s space, tucking yourself against his side. The biting Chicago winter urges you closer, as he’s somehow warm, though Richie is always warm. One hand ashes his cigarette onto the concrete, and the ofher arm wraps around you, hand cupping the ass of your jeans, thumb tracing the pocket seam.

Laying there is a wad of cash, he can feel the outline faintly under the thick fabric. But he doesn’t take it. Nor does he replace it with anything, despite what you’d been expecting, what he’d agreed to. This routine you’d built up, an unspoken process.

You shift away slightly, looking up at the taller man with furrowed brows. His hand shifts higher, finding its place against your side, holding onto your hip.

“What gives?” You ask, trying to decipher that unreadable look on Richie’s face. For a man so expressive, you were lost on an interpretation in this moment. He wouldn’t even look at you, squinting at some unknown spot in the alley.

Then his head starts shaking, a disapproving look forming, before the words follow. “Sure you don’t want some dope instead?”

“If I wanted dope, I would have asked for it.” You retort. The words were sharp with intent, slightly irritated.

Richie tries harder to convince you, finding that would be easier than outright admitting his concern. “Come on. You haven’t thought about making the switch?” He muses as if it were obvious, taking a long drag from his cigarette. That hand is still on your side.

You roll your eyes. “To what? Being miserable and a fucking downer?”

“No.” Richie rolls his eyes. “To going, I dunno.. natural, or whatever.”

This gets no response, and Richie finally glances down at you. You look confused, but mostly pissed. Definitely some form of agitated.

“Weed and shrooms.” He clarifies with a shrug.

“Are you serious?” You’re snapping at him, finally stepping back a little, out of his hold. “As if you even have shrooms.”

“I could get them if you wanted. Gotta be better than that other shit.”

“Fuck! You’ve gotta be the world’s worst dealer.” You utter, running a hand through your hair and looking off into the distance.

Before he can get a word in, you begin venting, letting that frustration bubble up. “Y’know, if I wanted a lecture, I’d call my parents. But you, Richie?”

So, he snaps back. Like he always does. After all, fighting is miles easier than having an actual discussion. “I dunno, princess, this ain’t fuckin’ right! I can’t do this shit to you.”

“It’s coke, Richie! Not heroin. I’ll be fine.” You urge.

He shakes his head, voice only rising with his temper, a tone most are accustomed to. “You know that’s not the fucking point.” The words have anger in them, laced with bite, intent.

And for some reason.. some, god forsaken reason, you let up.

Maybe you knew this would happen. Maybe you had the smallest, tiniest inkling that coming to Richie, of all people, was a bad idea. You knew he’d stopped dealing, for the most part. But you couldn’t blame him, not after everything that happened with Mikey. It’s not like you didn’t know him, too, but it was different.

So, you relent, pressing a hand over the crease of your brows. “Okay, okay. Just..” You can’t get out a full sentence, mind reeling with about twenty thoughts at once. The most prominent notion: you certainly weren’t getting your coke today. Not from Richie. And, frankly, you didn’t trust anyone else.

He looks down at your dejected form, jaw clenched with tension. Richie didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, by any means, and felt a pang of sympathy. In an ideal world, he’d give you anything and everything you wanted.

In an ideal world, you wouldn’t be asking.

“What’ya need it for, anyway?” He ends up inquiring, tone a tad softer, now that the hostility has simmered.

You shrug, kicking around a rock. “House party.”

Richie nods, getting a vague idea of what was happening. It was for later. That was good.

“Then how ‘bout.. you come over to mine,” He suggested, “We smoke up instead.”

It wasn’t an unfamiliar request, but any means. You’d spent many nights in his apartment. It was lonely and derelict, as most days, he didn’t have his daughter around. Sometimes things escalated. By all means, Richie was certainly a good fuck, if anything. But you were messy, complicated, not someone that stuck around for long. Richie understood that, as he wasn’t looking to settle down, either. Not with someone like you. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Already bought the beer, Rich.” You justify, giving a minor resistance towards the idea.

Of course, he has a solution for everything. “Bring it.”

You nod along, the slightest of smirks appearing on those plump lips. It was clear as day, a physical indicator that you were fucking weak for anything he suggested. “So you’re denying me product, and you’re gonna drink my beer?”

“Yeah, but the weed is free.” Richie offered, a grin beginning to form, purely because he was getting what he wanted.

There’s a low whistle, sucking the air from between your teeth. It’s cold out, and you’d rather get home, given this was supposed to be a quick pick-up. The thought of spending a night over at a Richie’s place was incredibly tempting, given you hadn’t seen him much lately. He’d been pulling away, which was understandable. You weren’t exactly the healthiest to be around.

“M’kay, weirdo.” You agree, looking away to avoid spotting how purely happy that makes Richie. Deep down, you know he’s genuinely pleased with himself, not just for getting you to come over, but to abandon the drug altogether, even if just for a night. He’s fixing you, making you a better person, which you really fucking hate.

He throws the cigarette to the ground, stomping on its ashy remains. “See? What a good fuckin’ girl you can be. Just gotta use that pretty little head more.”

To emphasise his point, Richie cups the top of your head, fingers disrupting the part of your hair. His hands are huge, for the most part, covering the expanse of your skull. It prompts you to swat it away with a displeased grunt.

“Don’t push it, asshole.” You warn, already trying to fix your hair. Before he can cause any more damage, you’re turning on your heel, eager to escape the cold.

“10pm. Don’t be late, princess.” Richie calls out to your retreating form, watching the semi-enthusiastic thumbs up you flash him in return.

Feeling pretty goddamn successful, he gets back to work.

#me when i neglect all my current wip’s because i desperately needed to write about richie #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #the bear #the bear fx #the bear x you

[nyctophiliq]

𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 — abby anderson

— “they messed you up but i can set you free.”

content warning/s — DARK CONTENT, female reader, mean/toxic jock gf! abby anderson, reader wears skirts/dresses, kinda deranged abby?, violence, manipulation, a door gets broken down, masochist/sadist duo, pre-established relationship, suggestive end

a/n — if you know you know, enjoy !!!! also there was just no way for me to not to use y/n in this, sorry.

“YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART, CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED.”

there is hardly any air in your lungs, you can barely take a full breath as you run towards your dorm room. you want to take a peak over your shoulder so badly, but trying that would result in you tripping and her catching up to you, losing being ahead of her by only a few seconds. you shut the door behind yourself as quickly as you can, turning the lock even faster before sliding down the inside of your door.

“y/n!” BANG BANG BANG!

abby shouts angrily as she slams her fist against the wooden door, bending it from the hinges slightly before she takes a brand and tries to calm herself down. “open the door please, baby please open the door.” she rattles the handle, first with only one hand then two, clicking her tongue quietly when it doesn’t budge but abby is determined, trying again. “y/n can we not fight anymore please, can we not fight anymore?” her voice cracks, it’s forced, not that you can tell.

as you stand on the other side of the door, tears running down your cheeks as you listen to your girlfriend shouting, pleading, and trying to break down the door that is separating the two of you. this fight… you can’t remember how it started, just that it was about something important to abby and everything has been going downhill since then. 

“baby, sure you’re scared i’ve been there, i can set you free!” abby starts again, “i swear you will change your mind if you simply come with me tomorrow.” there is a few beats of silence, you can only hear your heart beating and her heavy breathing. “just.. baby, open the,” her voice cracks once again, she takes a deep breath and sighs out.

“open the door please, sweet girl please open the door. i promise this can all be fixed, just open the door.” she tries the handle once again, still nothing and now she is done playing the nice guy, if it won’t work then this will. “y/n, don’t make me come in there, i’m gonna count to three!” abby shouts once again, banging even harder on the door, splintering the side she as on. there is still no answer.

“one!” she stars counting down, “two!” she continues, hoping that you would get what she is suggesting but when there is no answer and the handle is not turning she has no choice. “fuck it!” she screams before kicking the handle, once, then twice, then a third time before it opens and you jump away.

the door opens abruptly, more like is broken down by abby, before shutting it close behind her, or rather just trying to but it will be needing a fix later, she couldn’t care about it tho. she stomps her way over to you, rolling her sleeves up on her arms, her eyes burning with rage as her combat boots hit the wooden flooring and making the room shake the slightest.

she stares at you for a second, without a word before crouching down next to you, taking your cheeks between her grip. her look frightens you and it takes you less than two seconds to collide with her, hug her, have her arms around you, and have her kiss the top of your head while you apologize profusely for ever becoming upset.

“it’s alright, baby.” she murmurs into your ear, a smile spreading over her lips as you sob into her shoulder, “good girl.”

and as you are under her like this, so vulnerable and pathetic, crying, begging for her forgiveness, she cannot stop her urges as she pulls away and pushes you up on the bed. abby’s mind is already there as the tears roll out of your eyes. “you were so stupid, weren’t you?” you nod as she talks, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to hold back your sobs.

“we can- you can fix it… what do you think?” she asks, her hand gliding up your legs as she kneels between them. you nod, eagerly so. oh how pleased she was, all those stupid lies that the other student stuffed into your head in the morning long gone, only abby was on your mind and the things she wanted to do to you… you were a freak, just as deranged as her, aren’t you? “please, i want to fix it.” you say with your fragile voice, pulling a sickening grin on abby’s face as the hand from your thigh snakes around your throat and she leans down to kiss you.

she is rough, just as always, biting your bottom lip and sucking your tongue just to tease you, her knee between your legs and hitting it against your clothed cunt. not like you were gonna complain, you liked her being this cruel.

#📗 — written by moss ! #tlou x reader #tlou x reader smut #tlou smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x fem reader #tlou abby x reader smut #the last of us abby #abby anderson x female reader #cw violence

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Ten: Praise - Minho/Jisung

Tags: Power imbalance, top!Minho, bottom!Jisung, boss!Minho, secretary!Jisung, anal, office sex, semi-public sex, light dom/sub

AO3 Link

It all started with two words. 

Good boy. 

Jisung was in the office when it happened. Minho, whom Jisung was the secretary of, asked him if he could grab him one of his files on his way out, and when Jisung did, Minho had locked eyes with him and said it.

They echoed in Jisung’s head all day, making him dizzy every time he thought of them. Minho’s voice, so soft, so sweet. Had he known what he was doing to Jisung? 

Jisung didn’t think so. At least, not at first. He was his boss after all. He certainly wouldn’t make a move on him, no matter how much Jisung longed for him to. Jisung was just a pervert and Minho didn’t like him like that. Right?

But then Minho said it again. 

Jisung was staying late in the office because he desperately wanted to get ahead on his work. Minho honestly didn’t give him as much work as some other people gave their secretaries and sometimes Jisung felt he got off easy, but there was still a lot to do. And honestly he wanted to please Minho. Minho had a lot of work to do too, and if Jisung could lighten the burden on his shoulders even a bit he would.

When he finished with all the work for the night, he headed to Minho’s office with a stack of papers in hand and a tired but satisfied smile on his face. 

“I’ve finished all the reports for this week, Mr. Lee,” he said as he entered the office. “I also scheduled out your calendar through the third. And I have a draft of your outline for the committee meeting.” 

Jisung reveled in the way Minho’s tired features lit up as listed off the things he had accomplished. He did well. 

“All that extra work?” Minho asked rhetorically, tilting his head. “Good boy, Jisung-ah. I’m impressed. You’ve been doing such a good job lately.” 

Jisung really had to be tired, judging by the way he was entirely unable to suppress the whimper that came up his throat at Minho’s words. Good boy, good boy, good boy. He was doing good.

“Uh-uhm, thank you, s-sir,” Jisung stuttered, gulping audibly. There was no way Minho hadn’t heard the way he had whimpered at the simple praise. Only two words, and said by his boss no less. Oh, he was doomed. Minho would find out his dirty secrets, how often he fantasized about his boss grabbing his tiny waist and bending him over the desk and fucking him raw. He would know and Jisung would get fired and– 

“Han Jisung.” Minho’s low voice cut into Jisung’s stream of thoughts and he jumped, realizing he had just been standing there. 

“Uh, yes sir?” he asked hesitantly. Minho’s eyes were half lidded as he tilted his head to the side. 

“Did you need something else from me?” he asked. 

Jisung gulped and shook his head. “N-no sir,” he said quickly. 

Minho rose from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked toward Jisung. Jisung felt a shiver go down his spine at the look Minho was giving him. It was quizzical and curious but there was something else burning in his eyes that made Jisung want to crawl under his desk and hide. 

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. He was close enough that he could smell Minho’s expensive cologne and he could hear him inhale and exhale softly. Jisung’s throat felt tight and his mouth dry and his heart was racing. 

“I–I don’t know,” he said, now unsure of anything. 

“Do you perhaps want a reward?” Minho asked, reaching forward to brush his fingers over Jisung’s tie. Jisung’s breath caught in his throat as Minho licked his rosebud lips. “For how good you’ve been lately…” Jisung melted further at the praise and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. There was no way Minho couldn’t tell how affected he was by the words. 

“I–what kind of reward?” Jisung asked slowly, biting his lip. “I haven’t done anything much…”

Minho’s lips turned up in a smirk. “I think you know what kind,” he said with a hum. “And don’t pretend you haven’t done much. You’ve done nothing but gone above and beyond with work. The best secretary I could ever ask for.” 

Another whimper made its way up Jisung’s throat and he shrank back, his cheeks burning hot, his skin tingling like his limbs had fallen asleep. “Ahh, there it is,” Minho said. His gaze darkened and Jisung felt caged. It was the best feeling in the world. 

“There what is?” he asked dumbly and Minho laughed. 

“Don’t play coy with me, Jisungie. I’ve seen how you react to getting praise from me. I just wanted to test it out. At first I thought I was just projecting…imagining what you wanted because of what I wanted. But now I see I was right.” He gave Jisung a pleased look and Jisung’s world spun. 

“You know?” he asked. “And…you want me?” 

“You don’t even fucking know,” Minho growled and Jisung’s lips parted with a gasp. “So what do you say about that reward? Haven’t you been good enough for it?” 

Jisung felt lightheaded as he nodded. “Yes, yes, I want it, I’ve been good, promise, always work hard for you, just want to please you,” he said, all his admissions spilling out in a waterfall of words. 

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.” 

Minho’s hand curled around the back of Jisung’s neck and his other hand grabbed his waist firmly before he pulled him into a dizzying kiss. Jisung gasped against his mouth as Minho pulled him closer and tilted his head, slotting their lips together in a deep kiss. There was nothing slow or sweet about the way Minho kissed–it was all passion and it made Jisung’s stomach pulse with jolts of pleasure and his cock twitched in interest. Minho squeezed Jisung’s waist and licked along the seam of Jisung’s lips to taste him. Jisung didn’t even put up a fight, allowing him in without any resistance. His tongue tasted sweet on Jisung’s and he wanted more, so much more. He wrapped his arms around Minho and continued deepening the wet slide of their mouths, kissing as best as he could. He wanted Minho to like it. He was to hear praise even for how he kissed. For how pliant and willing he was, for how good he made Minho feel. 

When Minho pulled away Jisung gasped, panting for air. He had nearly forgotten to breathe through his nose as Minho kissed him, too aroused to focus on anything except for Minho’s breaths mingling with his own and the feeling of his soft lips melting against his. 

“Should’ve known you’d be as good at kissing as you are at everything else,” Minho mused and Jisung preened at the praise. “How do you want your reward, Sungie?” Minho asked and Jisung shuddered. 

“I want–I want–” he didn’t even have to think about what he wanted but he still hesitated for a second before quietly saying, “I want you to fuck me. Over your desk. Please.” 

He saw and felt Minho’s sharp intake of breath and the way his grip on him tightened. “Good job using your words, jagiya. Now be a good boy for me and take off these pants and bend over the desk for me.” 

Jisung was quick to oblige, fumbling with his belt before he tugged his slacks down over the swell of his ass. He was glad the desk was so near because he was too eager to fully take off his pants. He rested his elbows on the desk and arched his back and spread his legs so that his ass and hole were on perfect display for his boss. He felt Minho’s gaze on him and he burned with need. 

“Fuck. So pretty,” Minho groaned, stepping up behind him. He placed his hands on Jisung’s cheeks and spread his fingers over them. He squeezed and spread his cheeks apart and Jisung’s hole fluttered. “You’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen, fuck, with a face like that I should’ve known.” 

Jisung’s mouth fell open in a wanton moan and pushed his ass further into Minho’s touch. “P-please, Mr. Lee, please fuck me,” he whimpered, his head clouded with a heavy fog of lust. Minho’s hands felt like hot coals on his skin as he rubbed his asscheeks and every squeeze of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through his stomach. 

“Such a good boy, asking so politely. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get fucked well,” he said sweetly. 

“Ahh–w-wait, do you have anything?” Jisung asked, a little bit of his brain power coming back to him in a brief moment of clarity. Minho tilted his head and then a look of realization came over his face and he nodded. 

“I do. One second, pretty, I have stuff in my bag. Stay there.” He gave Jisung’s ass a pat and then went to shuffle through his bag for a moment until he came back with a small, travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom. The condom he set down on the desk next to Jisung, but the lube he kept in his hand. He placed his free hand on Jisung’s hip and squeezed. “Can you do something for me, Jisung-ah?” he asked. 

“Anything,” Jisung said. He would do anything. He was practically in heaven right now. 

“Reach back and spread yourself apart while I finger you. I want a good view of that pretty hole of yours.”

Jisung gasped and his entire body began to heat up, going red from his face and all the way down. Minho’s request was downright filthy, and the tone he said it in even moreso. But Jisung would do anything to be good, even if he would feel so exposed in the process. The thought of being so exposed sent a thrill up his spine anyway. So he pressed his chest to the desk, his cheek squished on the wood, and reached behind himself to spread his cheeks. He closed his eyes and his hole fluttered around nothing, Minho’s gaze making his stomach twist in tight knots of heat. 

“So fucking perfect, so sexy, Jisung-ah,” Minho groaned. Jisung bit his lip and moaned in the back of his throat. Every word of praise made his insides tingle and his legs weak. “What a pretty little hole.” Jisung keened in response, legs shaking a little. 

Minho proceeded to open the small bottle of lube, pouring the slick substance onto his fingers. Jisung’s whole body jerked when he felt the press of Minho’s fingers against his waiting hole. He didn’t tease, instead pushing in a first finger in one go. Jisung’s hole clenched around him and he moaned. His back arched further so he was pressed against the desk but it allowed Minho to press his finger deeper. “Look at that,” Minho hummed. He rubbed the rim of Jisung’s hole with his thumb as he pumped his other finger in and out. “Practically sucking me in. Looks like your hole is as perfect as your ass.” 

“Hnng p-please sir,” Jisung moaned. “More, please.” 

“Well this is supposed to be your reward.” Minho didn’t hesitate after that to add another finger, pressing two inside Jisung almost as easily as the first. Jisung’s hands on his ass slipped a little at the intrusion and he struggled to hold himself up, shudders wracking his body as Minho began to scissor his fingers. The wet squelch of lube and Minho fucking into Jisung’s hole filled the office and if there were anyone else to walk by, they were almost guaranteed to hear. Thankfully, they were the only ones in there. 

“You take my fingers so well,” Minho praised, pushing in a third after a few moments. Jisung’s only response was a gasp followed by a fucked out ahhh. His hands slipped more and Minho tutted, replacing one of Jisung’s hand with his free one. He bit his lip, unable to resist delivering a squeeze to the soft globe. “You really do have such a perfect ass, holy shit. I’m gonna have to eat you out sometime,” he said. Electricity zipped through Jisung’s veins. 

“Please.” Minho’s words implied that there would be another time. This wasn’t the last time he’d have him. 

Minho fingered him for a few more moments, spreading his fingers as much as Jisung’s twitching hole could take. Jisung was barely coherent when he added his pinky finger, a litany of moans falling from his open mouth while Minho showered praises on him. His eyes were practically crossed, a line of drool running down from the corner of his mouth to the desk. Minho was ruining him and he hadn’t even fucked him yet. Even just his fingers felt better than anything Jisung had ever taken, and his praises were like daggers of arousal in his gut. 

When Minho finally undid his belt and unzipped the fly of his pants, Jisung was a whiny, moaning mess. The wait while he put on the condom was torture. The press of his cock to his hole felt like lightning and the moan he released was practically a shout. “Ohhh fuck,” Minho groaned, eyes closing as Jisung’s hole engulfed his cock. “You feel so fucking good. Feels like you were made for my cock. Look at you.” 

Jisung inhaled shakily. His hands had long since fallen down and he was gripping the edge of the desk now. Minho grabbed Jisung’s trim waist with one hand while he used the other to press down on Jisung’s spine, causing his chest to be pressed firmly against the desk. “You look so fucking gorgeous all fucked out like this. Holy shit.” 

Jisung panted, pupils blown. “P-please, s-sir, Minho, fuck me. Re-reward your good b-boy.” 

Minho let out a sound akin to a growl and his grip on his waist tightened. He pulled his cock all the way out and for a second Jisung thought he decided not to fuck him, but then he slammed back inside of him. The force punched a broken gasp out of Jisung and Minho set an unruly pace, fucking into him like his life depended on it. Jisung’s cock bobbed between his legs, hitting against the desk with a mix of pain and pleasure with every other thrust. 

Minho continued showering him with praises–so pretty, sexy baby, taking my cock so well, such a good boy–and Jisung could only respond with choked moans and whimpers. With every push of Minho’s hips against his ass, Jisung’s cock twitched and he moaned like he was in heat. 

After a moment, Minho changed the angle of his hips to hit directly into Jisung’s prostate and pleasure rolled through his stomach in waves. He clenched around Minho and heard him mutter a string of curse words under his breath. Minho was becoming less coherent as well, words of praise fading off into moans and breathy pants as he fucked Jisung closer to his orgasm. 

Jisung could feel himself getting close, and he made his best attempt to warn Minho. “Guh-gonna, nghh, c-come,” he whimpered, his grip on the desk turning white knuckled. 

Minho sped up his thrusts and reached around him to wrap his hand around his leaking cock. “Alright, pretty boy. Show your boss how pretty you are when you come then.” 

“Oh f-fuck.” With those words and a twist of Minho’s hand, Jisung’s body went rigid and his cock jerked, spilling cum all along his stomach and the side of the desk. Minho didn’t stop fucking him through his orgasm, even as he went limp like a doll in his hold. He just held him up by his waist. 

Minho deepened his thrusts, keeping up his exhausting pace until his hips stuttered and he gave two more slow, deep thrusts, and came inside the condom. Jisung babbled incoherent as Minho pushed his hips flush against his ass, almost like he was fucking his cum deeper inside of him. Maybe someday. 

Quiet breathing filled the office as they both caught their breath and Jisung came back down to earth. Minho waited until he seemed alive enough before pulling out of him and tossing the condom in the trashed. Jisung remained boneless against the desk and Minho let out a little chuckle as he came back to him. “You were so good,” he said softly. Jisung’s eyes fluttered open and he blushed. 

“Thank you. You were–you took good care of me,” Jisung mumbled shyly. Minho smiled and rubbed over his waist. 

“Good. That’s exactly what good boys deserve, hm?” 

“Don’t call me that or I’ll get hard again,” Jisung whined, a pout forming on his lips. 

“Oh no, I definitely wouldn’t want that,” Minho said playfully. Jisung swatted at him weakly. 

He took a few more seconds to regain his strength and then slowly pushed himself up from the desk. Minho helped him steady himself and he mumbled a quiet, “Thanks.” He was holding a few tissues as well and helped Jisung get cleaned up. They would definitely have to disinfect the desk but that was a job for another day. 

“Do you drive here, Jisung-ah?” Minho asked as Jisung gathered up his stuff to leave. Jisung shook his head. 

“No, I take the bus. Why?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“Not tonight,” Minho responded. “I’ll take you home.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “No, that's okay! I don’t want to impose, sir–” 

“Shh.” Minho held a finger to Jisung’s lips. “Let me reward my secretary for all his hard work, okay? Wait for me outside while I get my stuff.” 

Jisung nodded meekly. “Okay,” he whispered. He felt a little shy all of the sudden but he couldn’t help the way he practically skipped away from the office once the door was shut, a small smile on his face. 

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 10 #minho smut #jisung smut #minsung #minsung smut #minsung fic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids smut #smut #fanfiction #praise

[rott1ngbra1n]

First off! I wanna go ahead and drop some fun art stuff I’ve been doing as I’ve been watching Dragons Rising season 2, which I’ve been loving!

I did a version of Arin before but it wasn’t my favorite so a redo! More AlleyCat stuff and obligatory Cole, because I love him.

I do have more Ninjago Art I want to do (Still need to finish that Cole and Morro friend piece-) and I have some other fandom art I also want to do, but I’ll explain more under the cut as well as why I’ve been gone or a bit less active everywhere. This is optional you do not have to read under the cut!

TW// Transphobia

For those unaware I am a trans man, I go by a different name: both online and IRL (online for privacy’s sake), I also work as a barista due to being a college student and needing to save money for moving away from my own transphobic parents. That’s a whole other story. But at work there was a coworker of mine who was consistently transphobic towards me whenever we worked together. It had been going on since June of last year (The irony of it starting during pride month made me and my friends laugh) but it escalated after I returned from New York, so much so I had to go to management.

Myself. Management had been informed by my best friend (who also works with me) about it and was told it was “gossip”. Ok. Sure- So I informed management of the new incidents and was told I had options, the first being to have a meeting with me, the transphobe, and my manager to discuss the issues. I said no so my manager went to the DM to find another solution. To give even more context, the transphobe couldn’t even be transphobic to my face most times it was always told behind my back to my best friend.

That’s how I knew my manager talked to the transphobe one on one, cause the transphobe right after the meeting went to said best friend. Telling her “not to tell me as she didn’t want to start drama” Cool, I feel so cool. I was very mad, went back to my manager with it, had that meeting with myself, the transphobe, and manager. Where my emotions were downplayed and the transphobe said she had “never interacted with a trans person before and didn’t know what she said was wrong.” OK.

SURE.

After that we assumed it was over, my manager made an incident report, but it didn’t stop the transphobe still kept talking behind my back to others. Despite me talking respectfully of her. More context all the talking behind my back happened at work while on the clock. After a while I just went about my day, then Ethics and Compliance called. They spoke to everyone involved, including me and I relayed more about my testimony. They said they would be investigating and I assumed it would take a while, then finally. I was informed that the transphobe was in fact fired.

This whole situation, along with other personal stuff going on with me, caused so much stress. To the point I tended to fallback into habits I had thought I fixed, mainly regarding my physical health. Even at points hating myself for just existing and having been born wrong.

I’m thankfully doing so much better now and have recently gotten diagnosed with Autism, something I knew I had but didn’t fully understand for a while. I’ve been getting better existing in a world knowing the people that are my blood hate me, knowing that eventually, I will never be able to be loved by my parents or sister. I have friends and coworkers who support me and I want to support other people in this community.

With that said I’m back to making more art! I’m building a portfolio for animation and to intern next year, I also will be trying to post more animations to here when I finish them! I also will still be active in the Ninjago fandom, I’ve loved this show since it came out in 2011 y’all can pry it from my cold dead hands-

But I do want to make more original work, I want to do more Star Wars work, QSMP art and animations, and more Musical Theater art whether it be Broadway or Indie productions. I hope people enjoy what I make, especially some of my original characters as I’ve gotten to work on Cybernetic more thanks to my animation class. You’ll see more of it as we go!

Thank you if you’ve read this and thank you for supporting me!

#art #my art #digital art #fanart #lego ninjago #lego ninjago fanart #lego ninjago lloyd #lego ninjago morro #ninjago #lego ninjago cole #ninjago fanart #ninjago cole #ninjago lloyd #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago dragons rising fanart #dragons rising #ninjago arin #life update

[banngtannies]

DRABBLE #1

— Pairing: Yandere!vminkook x Female! Reader

— Genre: Mafia au, Yandere

— Summary: Love hurts, it causes anger, jealousy, obsession, why don’t you love me back?

They will do anything to keep you by their side.

— Word count: 3.5K

— Tags/ warnings:  YANDERE THEMES, obsessive behavior, manipulative behavior, talks about murder, self-arm, toxic relationships, manipulation, cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of past bullying in future chapters.

Notes: This is my first time publishing my work. i have never been able to finish something but i finished this one month ago and i’ve been so insecure to post it soooo. i heard it’s good to post something even though you feel like it’s not good enough just to improve in someway! I already have planned the next drabbles. the timeline will jump back and forth and i’m really excited to write the next following parts. Also english is not my first language so please bare with me (but also let me know if you see any mistakes😭) if anyone reads this i hope you enjoy it!

——

You tried to not think about it too much. You tried, as your parents delivered the news, as you saw your sister’s face, the way it started to glow. You try not to think about it too much now, when you see her walking down the aisle, your father carrying her towards her future husband, a proud smile adorning his features.

Your father looks euphoric, invencible. Carries himself like he owns the world. He looks too happy, too happy for someone who just buried his daughter’s future. He ruined her life.

Momentarily, just for a second, you imagine what would happen if you stopped everything. Maybe make a quick distraction, take the gun out of one of the bodyguards, pretend you will shoot yourself or anyone at the wedding if they dare to not let your sister go. Such a morbid thought, maybe if you were brave enough you would stop this. You would’ve planned something, anything, to get your sister out of this situation but you don’t.

You were scared, a coward. But also the mafia was bigger than you. The Jeon’s were bigger than the mafia. and who would dare to go against them? not certainly you.

You feel something wet on your cheeks, pretty sure it was tears, they were already blurring your vision and fogging up your glasses. Your mother lets out a scoff.

“I told you to wear contacts.” but you don’t reply. You don’t even look at her, you keep your eyes on your sister, her shiny long black hair cascading down her back. “Get a hold of yourself. People are watching” she whispers harshly against your ear.

Biting your tongue, you nod.

When your sister gets to the altar, you dig your nails into your skin, your chin bobbling a little. Suddenly you feel an arm graze yours, from the corner of your eye you can see it’s SunHee.

Your one and only friend.

“It’s gonna be alright.” she takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. Your hand trembles against hers. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You let out a breath and swallow the pathetic cry that wants to rip out of your throat.

“Trust me.” she says this time more sternly “Everything will be fine.”

You bob your head and look ahead once again. And as the pastor starts speaking, and seconds turn into hours you realize it’s over. The veil has been lifted.

“Now I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Your sister has been kissed by the devil. There’s no turning back now.

——-

The chattering around you is not big enough to drown your own thoughts. Neither is the champagne that is being passed around. You’re on your second glass on an empty stomach, you’re pretty sure by now you should be fine. Less worried, less anxious. But no, you still feel like a ticking bomb, anxiety crawling all the way up to your chest. You’ve been taking deep breaths ever since you and your family arrived at the wedding reception, tugging the ends of your dress.

You haven’t been able to talk to your sister and you don’t think you will anytime soon. Your mother has been making sure you don’t cross paths with her and if you do, it’s quick glances. Your mother has been glued by your side. You can feel her eyes from the other side of the room, watching you like a hawk.

As another waitress passes by, you extend your hand to take another glass but the tray is pushed out of your way. You recognize those hands.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” A deep voice says, making you shiver. “Don't serve more to her. Tell that to the others too.”

The waitress nods cordially and continues his way to the other guests.

“Y/N.” The way your name rolls out of his tongue, makes you grimace. You never liked it. It held a distinctive tone, as if talking to a child.

“Taehyung.”

He shifts closer to you. His body heat enfolding yours, you could smell his perfume.

“Are you okay?” he says softly, almost in a murmur.

“No.”

“Do you want to-

You turn your body to him, facing him fully. It caughts him off guard, making him stop on whatever he was about to say.

“Please don’t pretend you care.” and with that you leave, on trembling legs and heavy tears, threatening to spill out from your eyes.

Could this night get any fucking worse?

Making your way to the bathroom, you see another waitress coming from the left and without any much thought you take it from his hand, almost making the man fall on his back.

“S-Sorry.” You whisper dumbly, gripping the tray as if it was some sort of support and continue your way to the bathroom.

You breathe in relief once you see there’s no one there. Putting the tray full of glasses of champagne on the sink, you take two glasses as you settle yourself down on the floor. You drink one instantly, hiccuping after another one.

Your head starts to feel a little fuzzy but you don’t stop, not until there’s only three left and the bright bathroom lights seem brighter than before. You let out a giggle.

Standing up on wobbly legs, you wonder how much time has passed. Maybe not so much, since no one has bothered to get into the bathroom after you got in. Making your way to the door, you struggle to open it, making you frown.

“Stupid door open up.” you mumble while you twist and pull but nothing happens. You keep trying and trying until a silky voice halts your movements.

“Sunflower?”

Your chest feels heavy, like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs and suddenly you feel like throwing up.

“Sunflower?” he hums, making the hairs on your arms stand up, goosebumps covering your skin in seconds. “Are you in trouble,sunflower? do you need my help?”

You stumble back, almost falling on your ass. You feel cold and sweaty. Like needles are penetrating your skin. The handle starts to jiggle.

“Sunflower, i know you’re in there. But don’t worry, darling, i will get you out.”

The handle twists painfully slow as your heart sinks in your chest. Taking a step back this time you do fall. Just in time as he opens the door, his sardonic smile greeting you.

He closes the door behind him and you hear a click.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The sound of his chelsea boots hitting the marble floor matches the beating of your heart. You’re trembling and all the champagne you’ve drank threatens to spill out of your throat. Soft hands get a hold of your chin, his thumb tentatively running down your throat. You let out a whimper.

“My my, look at you, sunflower. Did you have too much fun?” He giggles sweetly, showing his pearly white teeth and moon eye smile.

To any other person Park jimin was the charming prince, a soft voice with gentle features. He looked so innocent. But for those who belonged in this life knew that looks could be deceiving. He was deadly as he was sweet.

Your lips tremble and you try to get away from his hands but he holds you firmly. His eyes hardening as you try to put some distance between you two.

“Always so stubborn. Do we have to tell every single waiter out there to not serve you alcohol or are you finally gonna behave like the good girl you are?” His thumb presses down harshly on your neck and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating.

You swallow, your throat feeling dry and rather than answering him, you look at him. You know he’s not done, with the way he’s staring at you, his dark eyes almost burning yours.

“You’re lucky I was the one who found you here and not him. You know that right?” His jaw tenses while he speaks, his plump lips now formed into a thin line. He’s pissed. “Nod if you understand”

And you do, automatically, like a robot.

“Now, sunflower, you’re gonna clean yourself up.” you nod again and the ends of his mouth quirk at that. “You will go out and smile. Maybe laugh a little too. It’s your sister’s wedding, darling. Cheer up. It’s supposed to be fun.”

You shiver at his latest words and you almost tremble. You try to not let it show. How his wording of choice affected you, how you physically revolted at them. But Jimin sees right through you. He always did.

He smiles once again, his fingers gently caressing your face.

“Always so pretty when you cry.” He murmurs softly, his gaze focusing on your face and then it goes lower, stopping at your lips.“See you out there, sunflower. Don’t forget you still owe me a dance.” and with that he leaves.

——

You drank too much. You regret it deeply and now you’re sleepy. Your eyes threaten to close every five minutes, it’s annoying really, trying to keep yourself awake. You have to pinch yourself or dig your nails into your skin, maybe a little pain will wake you up. So you do, you pinch and dig until there’s a red spot on your arm, until it burns.

You don’t stop until you see Sunhee coming your way, her arm entangled with Taehyung's. You stiffen a little.

“You need a bed, immediately.” Says your friend sweetly while she runs her hand through your hair.

She looks at you with so much pity. And you hate it. You know Sunhee truly cares about you, too much, sometimes you feel like a burden. Always by your side, always wiping your tears, always defending you. Sunhee deserved a friend, not someone who needed to be babysat.

She continues to touch you, patting your head lovingly and you don’t miss the way Taehyung eyes her hand, dark orbs observing every movement, the way his hand tightens on her waist, making her stumble back a little, her hand no longer close to reach you.

“You’re messing up her hair, honey. You don’t want Y/N’s head to end up looking like a bird nest, do you?” he tells her with a playful smile, making Sunhee laugh.

She pokes him on the stomach funnily, making him laugh too, but to your ears it doesn’t sound as truthful.

“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry Y/nie.” She says with a cheeky smile and then proceeds to peck her boyfriend’s lips. “I’m gonna get more wine. Do you want some?” Taehyung declines and then Sunhee Looks at you. “Y/N?”

Once again you feel those eyes on you. They’re so heavy. so intense that it makes you breathless. You shake your head and Sunhee nods. “Alright. i’ll be right back.”

When Sunhee leaves, the room feels smaller. Suffocating . You wish you could disappear, you wish you could be invisible. You just wanted to be left alone. Before you knew it, that same perfume invades your senses. He’s so close but you don’t dare to look up.

“Look at me.”

And even though his deep voice gives you goosebumps, you ignore him. You’re tired. So tired.

“The night just stared, YN. don’t be so sulky. I hate seeing you like this” He continues to say, his hand now on your arm and you hate it so much. You hate his body touching yours or the way he talks like he cares, like he’s being sincere. “This is a new beginning for us. For all of us.”

This time you look up, slowly. A small mocking smile adorning your lips.

“There is no us.”

And he mirrors you, his eyes now demonstrating a shine they didn’t have before. He loves your eyes matching his, his heat engulfing yours, the way you talk to him even though it irradiates with dislike. He loves it.

“But there is. There is for me, for Jimin and for him. It has always been an us, and there always will be.”

You press your lips in a tight line. You won’t cry again, not in front of him or them watching.

“Why are you doing this? I thought you were different.” and even though you don’t let your tears fall your voice cracks, betraying you.

He seems taken back for a few seconds, and you swore you could see something else in his eyes besides mirth. But it’s gone as quick as you perceive it.

“I told you I will always be by your side. Didn’t I?”

And before you can reply, Sunhee comes back, drink in her hand and the other around her boyfriend’s neck.

“What are you two talking about? Are you gossiping without me?”

Taehyung eyes you briefly before looking back at his girlfriend, giving her one his usual seductive boxy smiles. He shakes his head and says. “Not at all. Just movies, love.”

—-

Your feet hurt when you go back to the hotel for standing up so much, you’re glad the night is over. Your mother complains beside you, talking about how you didn’t even dare to look at your sister while she was dancing with her now-husband. How disrespectful you were for denying Jimin a dance.

“I didn’t raise you for you to have such poor manners. This is why you’ll never get married, you’re ungrateful and a brat. No one wants to marry a brat.” She barks and huffs but you’re too tired to care.

Also, you’re used to it.

“I’m sorry, mother.”

“You better be.” she spits back and walks ahead of you.

You sigh, your feet hurt so much, this is why you avoid wearing heels. You will never get used to them or the pain that comes with it. You plop yourself down in one of the stool bars located in the lobby, from your peripheral vision you could see your mother getting on the elevator. She didn’t wait for you. Good. You didn’t want to hear anything else that came out of her mouth and also you needed to rest. Just for a few seconds.

Your phone vibrates and you see it’s a message from Sunhee.

Sunhee

did you guys get to the hotel??

Y/N:

yess. we arrived safely.

Sunhee:

Good. see you tomorrow y/nie. sleep well!!

Y/N:

you too. love youuu.

Sunhee:

love you toooooooo.

You smile at her text. What would you do without Sunhee? clicking out of the chat, your heart drops when you see your other unread messages. You don’t dare to reply. He’s muted for a reason and it will stay that way.

You decide to open youtube to distract yourself, letting your head fall on the bar counter. You blink slowly, once, twice, thrice and before you knew it, your breathing got slower and so did your racing heart. You let the darkness overtake you.

You fall asleep.

And it feels great, until you feel it. Calloused hands tenderly touching your face, it makes you gasp. And if it wasn’t for the hands that were previously caressing your face, you probably would’ve fell off the chair. Those hands that feel scorching hot on your waist, confining you side by side.

It’s terrifying the visceral reaction your body has when you feel him, when you see him. The exposed toned chest, the tattooed neck adorned with chains, you know him so well.

All those years and you’ll never get used to it. His touch.

The muscles on his arms seem to tense when you tighten your grip on him. You were starting to shake like a leaf and all it took you was to look up at the devil. He smiles at you and you can’t help but look down. That indisticve mole of his, right under his bottom lip and newly done piercing seem to greet you. He licks them, as if inviting you to get closer.

Time feels like it has stopped and your breathing shortens when he cuts the distance between you two even more. His chest touching yours. Your entire body seems to be overcomed by electricity.

“Angel eyes.” He murmurs, dark big eyes pinning you down, his hands now on your hips, his thumbs going in painfully slow circular motions. You could almost feel his eyelashes grazing your cheeks. It makes you visibly gulp. “Why weren’t you replying to my texts, hmm?”

He stares at you deeply, as if he’s ready to pounce on you. It makes the hairs on your neck stand up, you don’t like it at all. When he looks at you that way, as if he’s ready to devour you whole.

At the lack of your response he hums, inspecting your face while he plays with his lip ring. His big hand is now holding your face by your chin. He smiles once again, showing a perfect set of white teeth. He looks delighted.

“Why are you so quiet? won’t you congratulate me?” His voice displays excitement while his thumbs trace your lips.

The rings on his finger feel cold against your skin and you wish you could get away from him.

“To be honest, I'm quiet worried about you. You look a little troubled, angel eyes. What’s going on inside that little pretty head of yours? Come on, you can talk to me. After all, we’re like family now.”

Your jaw clenches at his words and your stomach churns in disgust. God, you really wanna throw up.

“We-We’re not family. You will never-

His thumb on your lips silences you completely. His breath now tickling your right cheek makes you itch all over. You feel his mouth close to your ear.

“And thank fucking god for that. It would be terrible if you were. Don’t you think so, angel eyes? cant go around wanting to fuck a family member. ” he says lowly and then his tongue travels from your neck all the way up to your lobe, leaving a wet trail and you can’t help let out a yelp, immediately pushing him away with all the strength you could muster.

Jungkook's eyes widen comically and so does his eyebrows. He lets out a hearty laugh.

“You never fail to make me laugh. You’re so fucking adorable, angel eyes, i wish i could i keep you next to me all times.”

“You’re sick.” You spit.

“That 's no way to talk to your brother-in-law. What would your mother think? her daughter and that nasty mouth of hers. Luckily I won't tell a soul.” He croons mirthfully, sporting his go-to sardonic smile. One you know so well. The one that has been haunting you for the past ten years, even in your dreams you couldn’t get away from him.

Your hands form into a fist and you’re pretty sure you’re shaking but not from fear but from rage this time. You hate him so much. You hated him so much that you fantasized about killing him. Nothing would bring you more pleasure than seeing him gone from your life, from your sister’s. Forever.

“I’m good at keeping secrets, remember?” he continues, getting closer to you once again. Feline eyes almost cutting through yours. “That’s why we get along so well, don’t we? sometimes I think that’s why you and I-

You stand up abruptly.

“Shut. up.”

He holds a finger to his chin, as if he’s actually thinking about it.

“I can find a few ways to do so but I would need your help.” He says tauntingly. The ends of his mouth twitching slightly. “Ever heard of face-sitting, angel eyes?”

And before you know it you lunge at him, your fist colliding with his chest. And you feel pathetic instantly . Your small moment of bravery dying as soon as you touch him. Jungkook is so much stronger than you. Any attempt of physical harm from you feels like a faint tickle to him.

A laugh bubbles out of his chest. It makes your ears ring, because it sounds so real, as if it’s coming from a child. But wasn’t that really Jungkook? A child in a man’s body.

What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine.

What he wants, he gets. Always throwing a fit when things didn’t go his way, punching things, smashing things, killing things. Your mother talked about brats but she has never met one like Jungkook.

The vibrations coming out of his chest while he still laughs at you made you realize this: he was truly enjoying this. You will always be his source of laughter, something he could toy with, make fun of, pick at it and then later on ridicule.

He hugs you, after he pins your arms down, his chin resting on your shoulder. You feel him inhaling the scent of your hair.

“My sweet angel, this is just the beginning for us. For all of us.” You don’t know when you start crying, maybe when he snuggles into you even more, when you realize this is your reality now. There’s no way to escape. maybe there never was. You’re trashing against him, but he holds you tightly.

He will never let you go.

None of them will.

“We told you we will always be by your side, didn’t we? We will keep you forever.”

#yandere bts #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #yandere jimin #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts au #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #bts mafia au #jungkook fanfic #vminkook #vminkook x reader

[yuzurins]

# to tell you the truth

12 — meeting, number three?

smau masterlist ∗ previous chapter ∗ next chapter

“chigiri, you’re late.” 

you tap your foot impatiently as the person in question (who also happens to be project leader) quickly runs up to you. 

he splutters out a quick apology as he catches his breath. “i’m really sorry! my class was held back longer than i expected.” 

sighing, you uncross your arms and go over to help hold the project stuff he was carrying. 

chigiri looks at you with pleading eyes. “please don’t be mad.”

“it’s fine, just tell me–” you quickly glance over to the person standing beside you. “i mean us, ahead of time if you’re going to run late.”

he grins and does a quick bow. “yeah, sorry!”

“let’s go.”  you nod back, before turning and walking in the direction of the campus library, leaving the other two behind. 

chigiri gives a look to rin, as if to question him “what happened?”, but much to his disappointment, rin returns the same look back.

“so?” the redhead starts.

“nothing happened.” rin rolls his eyes. “she came here, glared at me, and then we just waited for you.”

“you waited in silence for 15 minutes??”

“yes.” rin replies, but he doesn’t make eye contact. chigiri notices this but lets it off when he notices you leaving the building. 

“suspicious.” he raises a brow. “but let’s go before we get left behind!” 

rin picks up one of the bags that chigiri had brought and motions for him to go first. 

“how chivalrous of you.” 

“shut up.”

though the tension was high at first, it became less awkward faster than anyone had originally expected it to be. as top students, work ethic had a bigger influence than past grudges, and you weren’t going to let all your previous hard work go to waste. before you knew it, you actually forgot you were working with the itoshi rin, the one guy who can ruin your mood in a split second. 

but you can’t lie, seeing rin’s talent for art made you feel envious; he really was good at everything (though you would never admit that).

“you know, i think we actually make a pretty good team.”

you blink. “what?” 

“i mean, look at how productive we’ve been!” lightheartedly, chigiri laughs, without any fear of the potential hole he’s about to dig himself into by starting this conversation. “it looks like we might actually finish this today.”

seeing as how relaxed the he was, you reluctantly put a smile on and decide to humour him. “yeah, we should totally do this again.” 

“what-“ rin almost chokes on his water in response to your (meaningless) joke, which surprises you as you expected only a scoff from the boy. however, it seems like hes the dense one here, because he for one can not tell when the slightest tone of sarcasm is being used.

on the other hand, someone does take advantage of your sarcasm. “oh? i’ll take you up on that!”

you glare at the red haired boy, but to no avail are you able to get him to evoke his proposal. “i thought you said we might be able to finish this today…?”  

chigiri raises his brows and smiles. “we still have to decorate!”

he’s really pushing it.

a sigh barely escapes your lips before he follows up in attempt to ease your growing irritation. you couldn’t help it, after all, chigiri’s making an obvious attempt to get you to spend more time with rin. 

“well i mean, it’s early anyways. i think we can get this over with today.” though just barely noticeable, you notice him starting to sulk, and you just slightly begin to feel bad for him.

“whatever.” you close your eyes. “can’t say i’m opposed.” 

chigiri’s face starts to light up, and he jumps out of his seat, a bit too eagerly. “really!?”

he’s excited, you’re not too sure why, but that all ends as you tell him, sternly, “except since you said so, we aren’t leaving until we do finish.”

dejected, he slowly falls back into his seat. “everything?”

“everything.”

a light chuckle comes out of the boy sitting across chigiri. you nearly miss it, but it’s too memorable for you to not notice; as if your ears are accustomed to this sound from hearing it more often than you’d like to remember.

your eyes shoot towards the direction of the laugh, and rin freezes from all the sudden attention. he realizes quickly that your gaze is pressing for an answer, but in all honesty, he himself doesn’t even know how to respond. 

“what?” he splutters. “there was something in my throat.”

you squint your eyes at him, unconvinced. “just so you know, ‘desperate for grades’ me and ‘regular’ me are not the same.” 

“am i supposed to feel threatened by that?” he questions, amusement growing in his tone.

“yes.” you reply immediately. “in case, you know, you think i actually tolerate you now or something.” 

“i’m not delusional.”

you raise a brow. “you sure about that?”

there’s a pause before another word is spoken. you notice the slight shift in his demeanour as you watch rin process your words, hastily open his mouth after. but instead of uttering a rude remark, he closes his mouth and looks away, clenching his fist. 

confused, you look towards chigiri, but he’s as clueless as you are.

the productive atmosphere soils, and the awkward tension that inevitably trails you and rin around returns once more. 

it’s only the sounds of typing, writing, and your wondering thoughts that fill the study room.

why was he getting offended after a joke that he started himself? was it something you said? was it how you looked at him? did he get self conscious because it’s true? or offended because you were extremely off? you wouldn’t know. 

you don’t understand rin at all, and after hearing such from not just rin, but reo as well, you’re well aware that that’s a fact. 

“so,” chigiri speaks up after what feels like a millennia. “how much research do we have left? can we start decorating the display?” 

“i’m practically done, did you bring the stuff?” 

he nods, walking over to take all the arts supplies out of the giant bag he brought. 

“rin, how about you, are you ready?” chigiri asks, but all he gets back in response is an irritated glare. 

a frown adorns your face as you pity chigiri for having to deal with rin’s childish attitude due to your rivalry with the latter. it made you feel responsible for brightening up the atmosphere, even if it wasn’t your problem at all that rin couldn’t handle a joke. “it’s fine, we can start without him.”

but the response you had believed to be the most harmless one (which was avoiding the problem), turned out to be the worst one yet. 

rin slams the papers he was holding down onto the table beside his laptop. he lets out a deep sigh and turns to look at the two of you. “no. i’m not.”

“‘kay,” chigiri starts, before slowly sitting down and flashing you a quick glance of alarm. “i’ll look over everything again, just let us know when you’re done.”

this won’t do. 

you absolutely hated the fact that rin was being a selfish prick right now, but despite your opposition, it would be too much for chigiri to handle this guy alone. which is how you came to the conclusion that it was time to bring out the fabricated extroverted version of yourself deliberately prepared to deal with awkward situations with strangers. you just had to mentally prepare to delude yourself by erasing every single interaction you had shared with rin, and all the feelings of resentment you held towards him. easy… right?

it was going to be a long, long, day.

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE SHITTY CHAPTER T_T i just wnated to lyk that y/n is an extremely unreliable narrator and that everything written in their perspective is only what they deduce from the environment around them!!!!!! please enjoy and i will be definitely doing better with the smau posts instead of written chapters lMFOA

pairing ∗ itoshi rin x f!reader

synopsis — all you wanted was a peaceful and productive uni life, but despite your pleas, your plans start crumbling when the star of the football team, itoshi rin, begins to beat you in every aspect possible. as you confront the inevitable, what happens when you uncover secrets behind an unforgettable event from the past?

taglist 1/2 ∗ send an ask / comment to be added or removed

@kitorin @rinsque @jleijl @rintosei @strawberrypockybox @beanxiv @ode2rin @h4nman @hanmastattoos @kaitfae @idk-bro-gay @piichuu @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @invictax @chaosinanutshell @exatse @kirameki-kumo @xoxojisu @mellozhi @certaindreampost @limerence-lu @nutsinspector @kawaii-angelanne @rroxii @saesins @anngelllla @anurst @y-sabell-a @hellothere9597 @evilenchantresss @msameikanevaeh @saesofficialwife @reiners-milkbiddies @f1yh1gh @celioderso @amenial @wooasecret @kascar-chronicle @izonoi @biaonww @blissblossom @sereniteav @1lovestrawberrymilk @hearts4itoshi @yeojeolmi @arxliana @janbannan @leeyzhuo @kiritokunuwu @geombyu @jiaspoon @yunxbin @p3achiee (if your name is in bold it means i can't tag you)

#❝ to tell you the truth . . . ❞ #itoshi rin smau #blue lock smau #bllk smau #bllk itoshi rin #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk rin #bllk fluff #blue lock rin #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock itoshi rin #rin itoshi #bllk x you #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin x you #social media au

[tqmies]

hiiii! may i request for an nsfw kai x reader f2l with prompt 13 and/or 16? 🙏🙏🙏

Touch | Hueningkai

Part of Tqmies 1K Event!

NSFW , friends to lovers, 16. “Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.” “Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” “I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.” wc: 1.01k warnings: sub!hyuka, whining, hand job note: on my hyuka agenda rn !! thank you for requesting :D picked 16 for this one because it felt like it worked better & remember as always, MDNI

"Can you help me with something?" You spoke absentmindedly, Kai looking up from his phone.

"Sure?" He agrees, though he doesn't expect you to hand him a bottle of lotion. And he's even more confused when you start taking your shirt off, the tips of his ears growing bright red, he hopes you don't notice.

You don't though, seemingly by how you have no reaction to him, though he's still really lost. Not that he's mad though, who wouldn't want their crush standing shirtless in front of them?

Even if said crush was his best friend, who was strictly off limits?

He was just a man after all. Eh, he's going to let himself look, even if he felt slightly guilty eyeing you up like this. "What's going on?"

You shrug, "My back hurts, I could use a massage."

He fumbles with his hands, looking down. "And what's the lotion for?"

"So it can go smoother." You quip, taken about by Hueningkai's sudden confusion, but he's normally like this. "I've been super stressed with work, so you're doing me a solid."

He was going to have to touch you? While you were shirtless? Several alarm bells and warning signs were ringing in his poor little head, what if he couldn't help himself? What if he ruined your friendship? What if you hated him forever and threw him out of your house right now?

"Hyuka." You interrupt his thoughts, touching his thighs. When did your hands get there? He's two seconds away from exploding. "Open your legs so I can sit between them."

It just kept getting worse, and he swore his patience was running out. "O-okay." He nods, moving like you asked and you plop right between his mysteriously muscular thighs? Had he been working out, and more so, how had you not noticed?

You straighten yourself, before reaching behind you. "Lotion."

He just hands it to you wordlessly, and you grab his hand from your side, pumping it into his palm. The thick white liquid covering his hand and he can't help but feel flushed at the action.

"Go ahead," You smile, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his lap.

Behind you, the males flustered as his hands begin to hesitantly work your shoulders. You sigh in content and he takes that as a good sign as he continues to lightly press on the area.

And true to his thoughts, you felt his hands were working little less than actual magic. You felt better already, and it had been two minutes. Meanwhile, he was anything but relaxed. In fact, with how tense his shoulders felt, he figured he could give you a run for your money.

He keeps his composure though, falling into a sense of normalacy with an otherwise intimate action.

Then you start whimpering.

They're low at first, small noises falling past your flush lips as hes thanking every star above that you can't see his face.

"Feels so good." You slur out, tilting your head back in pure bliss.

Hueningkai thinks he might die.

You groan out once again, tone high. "You're doing so well."

Hueningkai moves his hands off, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

"Why'd you stop?" You pout, looking behind you.

Because! He thinks. If I have to sit here listening to you make those noises, I'm for sure going to pop a boner! Also I have the fattest crush on you and think of you in a way friends never should.

But he can't say that. So he opts for crossing his arms. "Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.”

“Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” You reply, embarrassed as you rub the back of your neck.

“I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.”

"It's okay." You nod as he places his hands on your back again. "I'll take whatever you give me."

Goodness, would you stop with the innuendos?! You're making it really hard to hold back!

"Hold back?" You ask, a smirk growing on your face.

Had he said that out loud?

"Oh- um, I just meant-" He stammers looking for an excuse, for any way to cover this up.

You turn to face him, hands placed on both his thighs as you watch his face go pale. "Meant what?"

He winces as you lean in. The words slip out under your hardening gaze. "Hold back.. all the things I want to do with you."

"Really?" You tease. "Like what?"

And he notices the way your hands trail up his thighs, your palm pressing onto his clothed hard-on as he thrashes to your touch.

"W-well, want to touch you." He admits.

"Like how I'm touching you?"

"More," He breathes heavily. "Want you to use me."

"Use you?!" You ask, fake gasping as you pretend to be scandalized. Your words not matching your actions as you tug his sweatpants down.

"What're you doing-"

"Keep talking or I'll stop."

"Fuck," He whimpers as you free his hard cock from is confines. Barely enough so the fat head can protrude out. "Wanted this for so long."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm, yes." He nods his head, tears forming in his eyes as you rub your thumb over the slit on his dick. "Want you to do what you want to me. Want to be on my knees for you everyday. Want to fuck until our legs are sore."

"Poor baby," You shake your head. "You say you wanted this but I've been waiting for so long. I'm here throwing myself at you and yet no response, I had to make the first move. You've been so oblivious this whole time."

"I'm sorry!" He throws his head back as you continue to move your hand up and down his shaft. He's pretty incoherent as he can feel drool pooling from his mouth, your vice grip being the only thing on his mind. "I'll make it up to you."

"Oh I know you will."

#tqmies 1k event! #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt #hueningkai #huening txt #txt x reader #txt smut #txt smuts #txt drabbles #txt hard thoughts #hueningkai x reader #txt fic #txt fanfic #hueningkai smut

[hemeruni]

Well. Here’s what I’ve been planning on doing… I’d like to introduce you all to-

The FIRST ANNUAL tumblr User hemeruni direct, a special event where I get to actually go into more detail about the projects I’m currently more so focused on, while giving important news to what’s next on our menus.

Now let’s go ahead and get this show rolling shall we?

NURSE PHILLY UPDATES

As you know, Nurse Philly has been placed on the back burner for a while as I took the time to work on my other projects. But, starting today, I’m working full speed ahead to officially get the Askblog up and rolling! The scripting process has been tough, but a rough outline has been finished and a overall timeline of arcs and events are all laid out, so it shouldn’t be long for you all to see the nurse in person!

I’m not the type to give out dates, but expect this hush puppy to start around mid-late 2024.

Alright we’re getting the hang of things! What’s next?

GLIMMERLOVE NEWS

This project started as a one off post that quickly spiraled into one of my favorite projects thus far under the hemeruni brand. While there isn’t plans to get a Askblog rolling anytime soon, the askbox will always be open for asking questions to these mysterious folk.

This project doesn’t have much besides that, but if things change revolving my work ethic, I’ll surely consider it.

No date on this one, as it’s currently in a fine state from where I’m seeing it.

HAPPY HATCHDAY HEMMY!!!

By the time I’m writing this, Hemera’s birthday is still ongoing and it might honestly been the most exciting days I’ve had in a long time, considering the fact that I’ve just… haven’t been active as much.

This fox means so much to me and I have Sparklecare and only Sparklecare to thank for creating such a wonderful creature that deserves everything wonderful on this blue marble of a planet.

I love you Hemmy, don’t stop being you.

Me and Uni are making a coffee shop au

Yeah idk what else to say

It’s news to me but I’m just posting this since I thought the idea was funny.

Personal au?? I think?? Only WE get to make one not YOU /J

Now. I mentioned something at the beginning of the whole thing about a change that is going to happen. Before we end this, I might as well say what I want to say.

The Future.

I’m breaking away from this community, for my own mental sake. I’m saying this with a heavy heart, knowing that this whole 'fame' thing isn’t something I enjoy. Besides fame, I’ve been so caught up in comments and reblogs that it mentally drains me to see one post that I spent less time on doing better then one I actually put my effort into.

This culminated in a unfollow from the official Sparklecare account that I’m still assuming is over the criticblog situation. Nevertheless, it left me bed ridden for weeks, realizing that what I worked so hard for was taken from my own dumb mistake.

That taught me a valuable lesson though, which is why I’m finally deciding to just cut contact with the community entirely, besides friend groups and servers I’m in you won’t really see me active on my main, mostly just au updates.

That also means I’m no longer reblogging stuff to my main account, but I’ve already came up with a solution revolving a account called hemerunireblogs (which will be linked later down the line)

That’s the most you’ll see me interacting with this community, I hope you can understand.

Now.

We’ve reached an absolute.

The End.

I wish things could’ve been different, but it’s either I continue down this path and further ruin myself for others sakes, or I finally start to work on myself again. In the end, I decided to choose myself. Call me selfish, I could care less.

For some, I’d like to wish the best, even though we may have not talked much, I’d love to see you again sometime soon.

You all have been a wonderful audience, I hope you all had a wonderful Hemmy Hatchday. Good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight my friends.

-Mx. Hemmy

#my art #sparklecare #hemera philly #hemeruni #uni cornelius #nurse philly #Glimmerlove au #text post #ramblings #long post

[081314]

Sunset Savannah’s Tamashina-Mina – Episode 3 (Part 3)

Following is part 3 of my translation of Episode 3 of the Tamashina-Mina event. This part contains episodes 3-10 to 3-13. This concludes Episode 3.

Spoilers after the cut!

Episode 3-10 (After the practice matches)

Leona: …….Okay, that’s enough. Everybody come over here for a minute.

Kalim: How were we, Leona?

Leona: Lilia was the best out of the three of ya. The way he was goin’ on the attack an’ defendin’ himself, it didn’t look like the moves of an amateur at all. No doubt he’ll be our major piece.

Kalim: Major piece? What’s that?

Lilia: It’s a term that refers to valuable pieces in the game of chess.

Leona: That’s right. Pieces like the queen and the rook.

Kalim: Woah. So that means Lilia must be really amazing!

Lilia: Kufufu. If you keep complimenting me like that, I’m afraid I’ll start to blush.

Leona: There’s also minor pieces. Ones like the knight and the bishop, which are less valuable than major pieces. And on our team, that’ll be Vil since his capabilities are second after Lilia’s. Against an average opponent, I’m sure we’ll be able to score at least 2 wins with you guys. All accordin’ to plan.

Vil: Honestly, I’m glad to hear that. Though I don’t quite like the whole “minor piece” thing.

Leona: The problem is Kalim. I already suspected as much goin’ into this, but no matter how ya look at it, his performance was totally lackluster. But even if you ain’t very strong, you can still do things like targeting your enemy’s blind spot, or catchin’ ‘em off guard and just ramming into ‘em. You got some options to work with.

Kalim: What! But I could never do something so horrible.

Vil: I absolutely cannot imagine Kalim doing stuff like that.

Lilia: That’s because he’s a kind young man. He’s not suited for combat sports like this.

Leona: If you go out there and try to fight these guys respectably or whatever, it’ll all be all over before ya even get through the first round.

Kalim: Really? That’d be awful….

Leona: As far as chess pieces go…. You’re a pawn.

Vil: Ah, that’s the piece that can only move forward one space at a time.

Lilia: Sounds like you aren’t expecting much from him. Kalim, I’ll give you some pointers. You need to go after your opponent’s beads and be like Ka-bam! Woosh! Boom! Wazam! Then you should be just fine ♪

Kalim: Gotcha! I’ll give it a shot!

Vil: ….It’s amazing you were able to understand all of that, Kalim.

Kalim: Ah, it’s the same way he taught me how to play the drums.

Leona: Now that I understand what we’re workin’ with… I’ll show you guys how it’s really done.

(Leona removes his mantle)

Lilia: Ah! Leona’s finally tossed his mantle now, too.

Vil: As usual, the only good thing about you is your looks. Geez. I’m sure the crowd will go wild if you join us in the tournament, no?

Leona: Did ya forget already? I ain’t allowed to compete. My role is to be the leader of the Sunset Warriors, so if I joined your team, people would get all upset sayin’ it ain’t fair. Second I step into the arena, Kifaji would blow a gasket and come flyin’ after me, and we’d all be disqualified on the spot. All that practicin’ you guys are doin’ would go down the drain.

Vil: ….Okay, I take back what I said. Please don’t join us.

Grim: ….If you think about it, Leona’s the most useless person here right now.

Leona: The hell did you just say? You little furball….

Lilia: Since you can’t partake in the tournament with us, be sure to cheer us on from the bleachers. Something like, “Let’s go, Lilia! L-I-L-I-A!” Go ahead and try saying it!

Leona: In your dreams.

Lilia: Oh, you’re no fun.

Leona: Fine, then it’s time to start our super-duper fun practice session. I’m gonna make the most of the short time we got and teach ya’ll as much as I can. Doesn’t matter who goes first. Just come at me with everything ya got.

Yuu: Is there anything I can help out with?

Leona: Yeah, go get a bunch of drinks ready for us. We’ll be doin’ a lot of strenuous exercise and since it’s so hot out, it’s gonna be super draining. If ya don’t wanna miss out seein’ them keeling over, then ya better get back here quick.

(Several hours later)

Lilia: Haaah…haaaah….

Vil: ……Pfew.

Kalim: …..Ah, I’m so tired!

Leona: Heh. All tuckered out already?

Vil: You didn’t even break a sweat, did you?

Leona: Playin’ Catch the Tail against a couple of rookies ain’t gonna wear me out.

Kalim: You’re amazing, Leona! I know Kifaji was telling us that before, but you’re even better than I imagined!

Lilia: Goodness. Even I wasn’t a match for him. I know we’re moving around under this dreadful sun and all, but still. I hadn’t envisioned the gap between us was quite this large. A lack of experience on my part…. I suppose.

Leona: Yup. But ya guys did manage to improve a lot just from our practice today.

Vil: You’re right. Thankfully we were able to hear a lot of solid advice.

Lilia: Indeed. During the tournament, we’ll be sure to implement those battle strategies you taught us.

Kalim: Yeah, I can’t wait!

Leona: That wraps up practice. Let’s head back to the hotel.

Episode 3-11

Kalim: Hm? There’s someone standing in front of Jack’s room.

Leona: That’s the nurse that Kifaji arranged to look after ‘im. How’s he doing?

Nurse: His condition has greatly improved, and he is currently resting.

Leona: Gotcha.

Kalim: That’s great to hear!

Vil: It is. I’m relieved.

Grim: And I’m hungry! Let’s get something to eat!

Lilia: Now that you mention it… I’ve grown rather peckish myself.

Kalim: We sure got a good workout practicing Catch the Tail.

Grim: Right!

Lilia: But you were just sitting there watching us the whole time.

Leona: No worries. Dinner’s ‘bout to start.

Nurse: They’ll be serving barbecue for dinner this evening. Chamberlain Kifaji requested if Master Kalim could please eat together with you all.

Grim: I can’t wait! Let’s go get us some grub!

(Barbecue Venue)

Kalim: Woah! There’s so much meat!

Grim: Nyaha! It looks super tasty!

Vil: …I was imagining something a little bit different.

Lilia: Me, too. What a peculiar setup.

Leona: What d’ya mean? It’s just a normal barbecue.

Vil: There’s beef, pork, chicken, and goat meat…. Steak, kabobs, spareribs, sausage, ham, bacon…. All they have here is meat!!! Normally, wouldn’t you also have, like, vegetables and seafood at a barbecue?! This is the complete opposite of a balanced meal! Let me guess, this was your doing?

Leona: Heh. Who knows.

Yuu: I’d like to eat some vegetables, too.

Vil: Good on you. It’s important that we always strive to keep our meals balanced.

Head Chef: Everyone. Per Chamberlain Kifaji’s instruction, additional, non-meat dishes have just been delivered.

Leona: Damn that Kifaji. And here I was tryin’ to be considerate and give everybody a full-course meat extravaganza.

Vil: Thanks for being so thoughtful.

Everyone: Let’s dig in!

Grim: This steak is so yummy! It’s nice and thick, and really hits the spot.

Lilia: We get to go wild, scarfing down massive steaks that are being grilled right before our very eyes! This is the best.

Vil: That’s the pleasure of barbecue. You wouldn’t be able to eat something like this at a normal restaurant. And since the head chef is cooking everything for us personally, there’s this air of luxury you don’t get at a regular barbecue.

Leona: Even though you were griping about it so much, you sure are goin’ to town on the meat.

Vil: Of course I’m eating it. It’s just I didn’t want to eat only meat. And it’s surprisingly pretty healthy, seeing as all the excess oil drips off from the barbecue grill.

Kalim: And the sausage they’re grilling over here is really good, too!

Lilia: Oh, it’s enormous! I’ve never seen sausage like that before, all wrapped up like a coil.

Leona: If you stretched it out straight it’d be about a meter long. You gotta cut it with scissors and eat it.

Lilia: It’s delicious! The taste of the herbs is very refreshing.

Vil: Amazing! Since the meat is so finely ground up, the flavor really comes through.

Kalim: This sausage is so tasty. Makes me want to pack it up and take it back home with me! I’ve never had sausage this good before!

Leona: That’s… Heh. Hearing that come outta Kalim Al-Asim’s mouth don’t feel bad at all.

Grim: *munch munch munch munch munch*

Lilia: Grim’s inhaling the sausage without even cutting it up first.

Vil: You greedy little thing. You’re going to give yourself a stomachache, you know.

Grim: …It’s so yummy! Gimme seconds!

Lilia: Looks like you needn’t worry about Grim.

Episode 3-12

Kalim: Ah, they’ve got some seafood over here. Looks like shrimp and crab kabobs. Judging by the color, it looks super fresh.

Vil: Oh, really? I hadn’t expected you could get much seafood here in Sunset Savannah.

Leona: Even in Sunset Savannah, you can get fresh fish and stuff for pretty cheap as long as you’re in a region that’s by the sea. Sunrise City is near the coast, so people here have come up with all sorts of different seafood dishes. But stuff like this is still a luxury in places that aren’t by any lakes or the ocean.

Grim: This stuff looks really tasty, too….!

Everyone: Let’s eat!

Lilia: ….My, this really is freshly caught.

Kalim: …And it’s spicy! I love the flavor!

Vil: …The spices are pretty strong, but it’s so delicious I can’t put it down.

Kalim: You wanna try some, Yuu? Which one would you like?

Yuu: I’d like that large lobster skewer!

Grim: What!? No, I’m gonna eat the biggest one! You get that smaller one. Ooh, the meat’s really chewy. I like it.

Vil: He’s eating the whole thing, shell and all.

Kalim: Woah, that’s awesome! I wanna try doing that, too!

Leona: Don’t even think about it. You’re gonna make Jamil cry.

Lilia: I’d like to have something to drink.

Head Chef: Here, please select something from this menu.

Kalim: There’s tons of stuff to choose from. Fruit juice, black tea, coffee…

Leona: Sunset Savannah's famous for its coffee.

Lilia: Really? I’ll go ahead and enjoy a post-meal cup of joe, then. *takes a sip*  …It’s spicy!!!

Kalim: Spicy? So it’s not bitter?

Leona: People here usually add spices to their coffee.

Lilia: Ah, I see. I like it.

(Various instruments start to play at the stage)

Kalim: Hm? Hey, that’s a pretty upbeat song they started playing.

Head Chef: The dance show will now begin.

Vil: Oh, and a bunch of dancers are coming out onto the stage.

Head Chef: If you’d like, you’re all welcome to dance along.

Kalim: Sounds fun! I’ll do it!

Lilia: I’ll dance, as well ♪

Grim: Me too!

Yuu: I’ll clap to the beat for you guys!

Lilia: Be sure to make things lively.

Kalim: Do you wanna dance with us, Vil?

Vil: I’ll pass. There’s plenty of other patrons here you can dance with, right? It’s fine if you want to let loose a bit.

Lilia: And what about you, Leona?

Leona: As if.

Lilia: You really are no fun. Then we’ll be off now.

(The Stage)

(Music continues to play)

Kalim: Oh yeah!

Lilia: Kufufu☆

Grim: Yahooo!!

(Barbecue Venue)

Vil: This song’s got an interesting rhythm to it. It’s refreshing.

Leona: It’s called polyrhythmic. They got a couple different rhythms going on at the same time. It’s a type of music that’s been around for a long time in this country.

Vil: It’s really catchy, but kind of hard to keep up with the tempo. Despite that, everyone is dancing quite well. Especially Kalim. Even amongst the hotel dancers, they aren’t outshining him at all.

Leona: Grim’s dancing is horrible. And Lilia…. You call that “dancing”? He’s just movin’ around like a friggin’ weirdo with that that big smile on this face…

Vil: It’s fine, isn’t it? It’s not like it's a competition or anything.

Leona: Is it finally over? Okay, now we should-

Lilia: I’m all fired up! Let’s sing next!

Vil / Leona: !!!!!

Vil: It’s not over yet!?

Kalim: The party’s just getting started. I don’t see why we should cut it short already?

Lilia: Now’s our chance to show off the singing skills we’ve long been cultivating in the Pop Music Club!

Vil: Your singing skills….? Please don’t tell me you’re talking about that screamo thing you do, Lilia… You’ll make the other patrons faint!

Leona: The party’s over! Hurry up and go back to your rooms!

Lilia:  Oh, but we were having so much fun.

Kalim: Aww, man.

Vil: The tournament is tomorrow, you guys. We all need to get some rest.

Lilia: Well, I guess you’re right.

Vil / Leona: ….*breathe a sigh of relief*

Vil: Good night, everyone.

Leona: Later.

(Vil and Leona depart)

Grim: *yaaawn* Let’s go hit the hay, Yuu.

Yuu: See you guys tomorrow!

(Grim and Yuu depart)

Kalim: Guess we should call it a night…..

Lilia: ……..What a bummer.

(Lilia and Kalim glance at each other and smile)

Episode 3-13 (Late at night)

Kalim: …..Ah ha ha!

Lilia: …..Kay, it’s my turn next! ~~~~☆★☆☆♪♪♪!!!

(Someone starts pounding on the door)

Kalim: Hm? Is someone knocking at the door?

Lilia: How annoying.

(The door opens)

Vil: You guys are clearly the annoying ones here! Lilia! Kalim!

Kalim: Oh, did we wake you up? Sorry about that! We’ll be more careful next time.

Lilia: We were trying to make as little noise as possible, so as to not disturb anyone…

Vil: You two must seriously be lacking in the commonsense department if you think having a singing competition in the middle of the night is a good idea! Did I not tell you both to get some rest?

Lilia: You did, but you didn’t say anything about going to sleep. Hanging out together like this is the best way for us to relax～

Vil: Ugh….! You guys are impossible.

Lilia: It’s not every day we get to go traveling together with our friends. Wouldn’t you find it rather wasteful if we were to spend this precious time just sleeping away?

Kalim: When Lilia told me all that, I was like, “He’s got a point!” and then we played card games and had a pillow fight. And after that, we started playing the Pop Music Club’s go-to game, Song Chain! It’s like a word chain game, but just with song lyrics.

Lilia: We don’t have any other choice. Let’s just pick a game we can play quietly, Kalim. Like go fish or slap jack or something.

Kalim: Hey, that’s a great idea!

(Someone opens the door)

Yuu: I’ll join you guys!

Kalim: Awesome, now we’ll have three players! Oh, hey. Where’s Grim? Guess he’s still asleep.

Lilia: You see? If you really put your mind to it, you should be able to sleep through anything. Were you boys really trying your hardest to stay asleep or not?

Vil: And why are you trying to scold us? We’re the injured parties here. Go back to your room, Lilia, and go to bed already.

Lilia: As a creature of the night, I feel much more energized when it’s dark out. I intend to make merry with Kalim all night long!

Vil: If you rob me of any more of my beauty sleep, you’re going to regret it!!

(Someone opens the door)

Leona: Would ya shut up already!!

Kalim: Ah. Did we wake you up, too, Leona?

Vil: You see? You guys were so loud you even woke up this lug.

Leona: Who’re you callin’ a lug? I was just about to go to bed.

Lilia: We bade good night to each other a while ago. What have you been doing all this time?

Leona: Honestly…. Nothin’ major. Just putting together some more strategies for tomorrow.

Lilia: Kufufu. While you were outside gazing at the stars, right?

Leona: ….Were you spying on me or something? You shrewd old man.

Kalim: You were looking at the stars? The night sky here sure is beautiful!

Vil: I never would’ve pegged you for the stargazing type. How romantic.

Leona: Don’t make me laugh. Those things are nothin’ more than balls of gas burnin’ millions of miles away.

Lilia: What a totally unromantic thing to say.

Vil: Typical Leona.

Leona: During the time of the King of the Beasts, people'd say the stars in the sky were the great kings of old. They'd watch over the members of the royal family, and whenever you felt lonely or you were worryin’ about something, they’d come and guide you down the right path.

Lilia: Well that’s a pleasant notion.

Leona: Right? It’s a pretty crappy lie they came up with. It’s laughable, really.

Vil: Okay, so if you really aren’t interested in the stars or whatever, then why did you go all the way outside just to do some strategizing?

Leona: No reason in particular. Anyways, what’s more important is our battle plan for tomorrow.  During our practice today, I got a firm grasp of your capabilities, as well as your strengths an' weaknesses. I’ve been simulatin’ all the different battle patterns your opponents might throw at ya tomorrow.

Kalim: I sure am glad Leona’s here to come up with a strategy for us! ‘Cause I still really don’t get this Catch the Tail stuff.

Lilia: So even while we were all having fun together, you were contemplating about our matches. I’m impressed!

Leona: I’m doin’ all this ‘cause you guys absolutely cannot lose this thing.

Vil: Do you seriously not want to do the “Lessons of the Guardian” that badly? What all do you have to do, exactly?

Kalim: “Lessons of the Guardian”? What’s that?

Leona: It’s this thing where I gotta explain to the winning team just how much of an honor it is to serve the royal family.

Kalim: Hmm. And you don’t want to do that, Leona?

Leona: ….It’d be one thing if we were in the middle of a war or somethin’, but we’re in peaceful times now, so these lessons don’t mean anything anymore. That’s why I ain’t interested in doin’ ‘em.

Vil: …So that’s it. Honestly, I really don’t have anything to do with your reasoning behind all this, nor with the circumstances of this country. But if there’s a competition involved, then I have no intention of losing. That’s why I’m helping you out here.

Lilia: I concur. I love to travel and have gone all over the world during my lifetime, but this trip is one of the most enjoyable ones I’ve ever had. This tournament will be the climax of our journey, and we’ll definitely be the ones to emerge victorious. Because I’d like for you, too, to remember this trip as a fun one, Leona.

Kalim: I’m also really happy I got to come traveling with you guys! Besides, Catch the Tail has been so much fun so far. It’s a seriously heart-pounding game, and I get super excited thinking about how we’ll all be able to look back on this someday! That’s why I plan to have as much fun as possible tomorrow!

Leona: Oh, yeah? I’m glad ya’ll are motivated. You guys wanna win, and I want you guys to win. We got a common interest here. And just for the record, you guys wouldn't even know up from down without me. So ya'll be sure to listen real good to my advice…. and win this thing!

Everyone: Okay!!!

Yuu: Let’s give it our best!

(Someone opens the door)

Grim: Would you guys keep it down!!!!

Everyone: .........

Episode 1

Episode 2 (Part 1)

Episode 2 (Part 2)

Episode 3 (Part 1)

Episode 3 (Part 2)

Episode 4 (Part 1)

Episode 4 (Part 2)

Episode 5

#leona kingscholar #lilia vanrouge #vil schoenheit #kalim al asim #twst spoilers #twst #twisted wonderland #tamashina-mina