#i am once again trying not to take the challenge too seriously

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 18: Spanking

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7590

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, over the knee spanking (my favorite cmdmdmd), paddling with a hairbrush

A/N: I really hope this one isn't too messy, I haven't been feeling super great and I am posting this at *checks clock* 4:26 in the morning skdnfksnf so please be gentle with me! 🙈

⭐

The Duke of Meropide was a truly infuriating scoundrel! 

You’d been arguing with him in his office for almost an hour now and it felt like all you’d done is go around in endless circles. One moment he would in all seriousness shoot down a suggestion or a point you’ve made, and the next he would abruptly ask you about tea or cookies with equal sincerity. You couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and you were quickly reaching the end of your patience with him. Had the topic of reform and rehabilitation of ex inmates not been so very important to you, you’re sure you would have stormed out of his office a long time ago. 

“For the final time, my lord, I care for neither your white tea nor your black tea.” You intone as mildly as you can manage given the state of your nerves. “Please, just listen to me for a moment. That is all I ask.” 

Perfectly casual, Wriothesley reclines back into his tall chair and brings his hands together over the bend of a propped up knee. “I have been listening. Quite attentively too. However, I just don’t see how your proposal is going to work and I think you might be barking up the wrong tree, miss. My apologies for saying so.” 

“No offense taken.” You clench your jaw so tight it hurts. “But why do you think it isn’t going to work? Have I not explained the steps to successful rehabilitation enough for your liking?” 

“No, you’ve been perfectly thorough. Excessive, even.” 

Spine snapping straight at that, you pin him with a furious look you don’t even try to conceal but he just waves it off without missing a beat. 

“The problem is, I don’t think you understand how the Fortress of Meropide functions. It is you who hasn’t been listening to me, I’m afraid.” He continues on, as stony and impassive as ever. “As I already said, the inmates are free to leave once their sentences are served in full. It’s just that the vast majority of them do not wish to return to the surface world and choose to stay here of their own volition. There’s nothing I nor you can do to change that.” 

“But — but that’s because there weren’t any systems in place to help them!” You stammer, desperately rifling through your stacks of paperwork and statistics in search of the findings collected on job and housing placement welfare. Finally locating it with a triumphant puff of air, you jump to your feet and shove it at him over the desk even when he tries to once again wave it off. “The proof is right here, your grace. It should take only a moment of your time to read and understand the data presented in this report for someone as no doubt well informed as you are.” 

Stilling, Wriothesley steadily meets your look of challenge with a cool stare of his own. A beat passes and then, heaving a rather terse sigh, he reaches out to reluctantly accept the sheet from you. “I’ll look at it but I’m telling you, miss. These graphs and numbers don’t mean anything in the real world.” 

“We’ll see about that.” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, impertinently standing over him while he reads even when you know you’re really pushing your luck here. He was a duke, a by all accounts certificate wielding lord in the flesh and blood, and you, a lowly commoner, had no right to try and force his hand like this. Still, you hold your ground though, confident that you knew what you were talking about when you had the data to back it up. It was he who didn’t understand how the real world worked after spending so much time underneath the ocean in this rust bucket of bolts he called a fortress. 

His eyes steadily move over the page, taking in everything at an agreeable enough pace to placate you into silence, and Wriothesley eventually gives his head a curt nod when he reaches the bottom. “I see. It’s just as I thought.” 

You have but the blink of an eye to feel the first dawnings of hope start to crest over your heart and then, unceremonious as can be, he reaches over to neatly deposit the paper into the trash bin. 

“It’s garbage.” 

“Wh - wait just a minute - what do you mean it’s garbage?” You stammer, spit and sputter in white-hot affront so potent you start to feel your cheeks becoming warm. It takes every single ounce of self control you possess not to round on the desk and throttle the life right out of him! “If you didn’t understand the information all you had to do was ask, your grace and I would have gladly taken the time to - -“

“I understood it perfectly, miss, and I am once again telling you that it is your understanding of the situation that is inherently flawed, not mine. You simply can’t make the prisoners do something they don’t want. I trust that you do understand that much, at least?”  

“It is not a matter of making them!” You seethe, hands clenching into tight fists at your sides. “It’s giving them a viable option between spending the rest of their lives trapped under the sea or being able to rejoin their friends and family on the surface. I expected you to have at least a little bit of sympathy for the people under your care!” 

Heaving another soft sigh, Wriothesley unfolds his legs and sits forward to brace his elbows on the desk in the most impolite slouch you’ve ever seen from someone who was supposedly a part of the aristocracy. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I think I care about them a shade more than you do. We’re talking about people who have made a new place for themselves down here and it would be remiss of me to start kicking them out just so you can get your brownie points. This is their home.” 

You jerk as if he’d physically struck you. “Now you listen here - -“ 

“No. I have listened to you enough for one afternoon, miss.” He cuts across you like the crack of a whip without either raising his voice nor sharpening his tone, but the low rumble in it is still enough to stop you in your tracks. 

Eyes widening slightly, you watch him stand from his chair and sedately step around the desk to come loom over you with his imposingly massive frame that leaves you pitifully craning your neck back when he stops in front of you. 

“It’s time for you to listen to me now. I’m sure you had good intentions in coming here with this little scheme you cooked up but I’m telling you it isn’t going to work. The inmates who choose to stay here like the simplicity of life in Meropide and the stability it provides them. So long as they work hard and stay out of trouble they’ll have no problems earning a living for themselves but can the same be said about the overworld? What’s going to happen when they get fired from the jobs you place them in after running late one too many times? Or what about when they fall asleep during their shift from exhaustion? Do you know what happens when either of those things occur down here? They simply don’t get their regular number of coupons for the day but they can always come back and do better the next. Will they have that same security up on the surface?” 

“T - that’s why rehabilitation is so important.” You rush to say. “We can teach them to reintegrate into society so that they won’t have to worry about things like that - -“ 

“Everyone worries about things like that, little miss. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

Your eyes flash at him dangerously. “Do not call me that! In fact, I believe I’ve had quite enough of you at this point! I want to speak to someone else! Preferably a person with something more substantial than rocks for brains!” 

Wriothesley scowls at that, narrowing his own eyes back at you in warning. “You can want it all you like but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. I’m the only person you need to speak to right now … and I would suggest you reconsider how you’re speaking to me.” 

“Hah! Or what?” Riding high on adrenaline and jittery nerves, you impulsively reach out to jab a finger at the center of his big, beefy chest. “You can’t throw me into a cell just because you don’t like the tone of my voice! Is that the kind of operation you're running down here? Maybe when I get back up to the surface I should contact The Steambird about the tyrannical power trip his grace is on!” 

He snorts a brief laugh as if the very notion was a ludicrous one, though you couldn’t tell if it was your assertion or the thought that you might go to the papers that he found humorous. “That’s funny, but I don’t need to throw you in prison just to put you in your place, miss. I’m giving you one final warning to knock it off and calm down.” 

You take an aggressive step closer to him, head tilted all the way back now so you could see his face past the bulky mass across his pectorals. “Enlighten me then, my lord. What are you going to do to me if I don’t bend the knee?” 

“I think I might start by taking you over my knee first.” 

Giving a startled jerk, you go stock still and just stare at him for the span of a single heartbeat. The ice suddenly gripping your veins is instantly replaced by a hot, raging inferno that seems to make your blood boil and, seeing red, you viciously bring your heel down on the top of his boot, grinding it in for good measure. “I’d like to see you try it, you ba - -“ 

His hand shoots up and, much to your squawking surprise, he grabs around the meat of your upper arm to tug you into him, making you stumble and half fall against the bend of his elbow. Before you even have a chance to draw a full breath to berate him with his other hand cracks across the meat of your ass with a deafening whap! The sharp pain is immediate and splintering, rocking you against him with the abrupt impact as your mouth warbles open in equal parts hurt and shock. He gives your arm a tight yank to keep you pressed in against his side when you try to scuttle away, nudging you insistently until you realize you have no choice but to look up at him except … except you’re not sure if you do so with impotent rage darkening your face or if it’s a tearfully remorseful expression he sees looking back at him. 

Perhaps it was a frustrating combination of the two? 

Wriothesley regards you in contemplative silence for a long moment, his own facial expression not giving much of anything away while the blinding sting across your backside gradually settles into a constant burning throb, but you don’t know what else to do other than stand there and wait for him to say something. You couldn’t believe he’d struck you like that — like a child! You’d only just met the duke today so for him to be putting his hands on you like that was beyond ridiculous, and completely inappropriate. But for as mad as you were, even for as much as your body trembles with frantic, clawing anger, you didn’t quite trust yourself to speak just yet … he would hear about it soon enough. In great detail and at even greater length, once you’d recovered enough to not need to worry your voice would crack and waver over your words. Very soon indeed. 

“I told you what was going to happen,” He says at last, perfectly calm and even toned as ever considering he’d just hit you. “Didn’t I, little miss?” 

Glaring daggers at him, you give your body a furious wrench against his hold but he keeps you in place easily enough. His hand was just so big it seemed to nearly encompass the total width of your bicep, allotting him the perfect hold on you that would only cause pain and discomfort if you were to truly struggle which left you with very little in the way of options. Grudgingly, you go still again and petulantly turn your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. You needed to focus on calming yourself before anything else. Acting rash now was only going to get you hurt. 

“I don’t know who you think you are,” You finally manage to hiss. “But you've got a lot of nerve to put your hands on me like this.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” He volleys right back, not missing a beat, and you irritably twitch when you realize he’s thrown your own words back at you. He’d be in for a rude awakening soon enough, if you had any say in the matter. 

“Enjoy your fun while you can, your grace. I was only bluffing earlier but now I think I really will go to The Steambird and tell them everything that’s transpired here today! What do you think about that, hm?” Impulsively, you whip your head back around to pin him with a biting look of challenge, but he just lifts his brows up at you as if in surprise. 

“I think you are indeed a mouthy little brat in need of a good spanking to correct that attitude of yours. What are you going to do at The Steambird then? Take your pants down to show them your red bottom and let them take pictures for the morning paper?” Clicking his tongue, Wriothesley shakes his head as if in disappointment. “You’re not thinking this through all the way, but I suspect that’s a problem you regularly struggle with. Come, let’s get you sorted out.” 

You suck in a horrified, raking breath when he shifts as if to move back towards his chair and quickly dig your heels into the ground to stop it. “W - wait! You can’t do this!” You wail, and a foolish pitter patter of hope skips across your chest when he actually pauses to look at you again. Maybe you could still talk your way out of this. It might cost you some of your pride, but that seemed a reasonable sacrifice given the situation. “Ah, what I meant to say is … I’m sorry?” 

A sudden, clipped bark of laughter bursts out of him. “No you’re not.” 

“I am, really! I’m very sorry for, um, stepping on your boot like that. I’ll have it cleaned and polished if you’d like. Just please let me go. Please?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

Wriothesley starts to pull you into motion again and you reel back against his hold even when it makes his thick, blocky fingers sink into the meat of your arm. “Wait! I promise I’m sorry, I really, really am! I didn’t mean it! I swear!”  

Breathing out a patient sigh through his nose, he gently (surprisingly so) tugs you around to stand in front of him even when you stumble and drag your feet in a blithe attempt to avoid compliance. “You’re only sorry right now because you’re in trouble. I’m going to give you something to think about and a chance to reflect on your actions, and then you’ll really be sorry. Is that clear enough for you, miss?” 

“You can’t do this …” 

“Oh, but I can. Take a look around you and tell me where you’re standing. This is my fortress which means I get to make the rules here. If I decide bratty girls who like to run their mouths even after being told to calm down — repeatedly, might I add — need a spanking to get them in order then that is exactly what’s going to happen. And do let me remind you that I gave you plenty of chances to heed my warnings but you didn’t. You can thank your own attitude for getting you into this predicament.” 

You try very hard to keep your expression in check but you’re pretty sure you fail rather miserably at it, and a flash of that vulnerable fear still manages to creep into your face. “I am not a child!” You insist, shuddering violently. “You can’t treat me like one! That’s not fair!” 

“Oh, I’d say what’s not fair is barging in here like you own the place and not listening to a word I say. You’ve certainly acted like a child so I think I’m perfectly in my right to treat you like one now.” 

Not giving you a chance to think of something else to say and further stall, Wriothesley suddenly swoops down and curls his arm around your thighs so he can yank you right up off your feet. You choke in surprise as much as at the sudden rush of movement, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it when he straightens up with you clutched across his front. Stinging hot tears flood your eyes all at once and you seethe, kicking and flailing, as he effortlessly carries you back around to the desk. It’s like you barely weigh anything in his arms which neither shudder or strain to hold you no matter how wildly you try to fight him. Even when he takes his seat again he still manages to much too easily manhandle you into place across his lap like you weren’t even struggling with every single ounce of strength you possessed. 

In shockingly quick order you find yourself spread across his legs, on your tummy, but still you hiss and twist until his hand abruptly strikes across your upturned ass again. You jump so hard you nearly collapse right then and there but the thick, burly arm now curled over your trembling body keeps you firmly in place when you lurch. Wheezing frantically, you try to push yourself upright but it’s no use, and his palm swats you over your pants again, rapidly draining you of the energy to keep up the effort any longer when it hurt so bad it seemed to rob you of the ability to even think straight. Mewling at the deep hurt, you jerk forward at the next strike and let out a pitiful, broken little sob. 

“I warned you to stop.” He reminds you again, falling into an easy steady rhythm. Whap, whap, whap, whap. One cheek and then the next, each hit somehow worse than the last as the burning sting grows and spreads across your defenseless backside. Even your desperate squirming was not enough to dissuade him from finding his mark as he peppers your sit spots in quick, agonizing succession. “I gave you so many chances too, but you just wouldn’t listen. Why is that, huh? Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?” 

“Please stop — oww! T - that hurts, you damn brute — oww!” 

“Keep it up and I’m just going to keep adding more. When you can’t sit right for the next week you’ll think back on this, I promise you that.” 

Clenching your teeth, you fiercely try to keep the tears at bay so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you cry but the intense, constant crack of his hand on your ass soon wins out and they start to track wet lines down your burning face. You sniffle sadly and weakly kick your legs out behind you, making an attempt to curl them up and shield your already sore behind, but he just roughly tugs you further across his lap. Abruptly finding yourself slipping forward to half dangle over the side of the chair, you gasp and mindlessly stiffen up across his lap to stop your balance from tipping. That quickly proves to be a mistake though when the tense way you’re now holding your body just seems to make it hurt even worse, and you plaintively shake your head with a wordless shriek. 

“Please stop it, your — ah! Your grace! I’m begging, I can’t — oww!” 

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you kept acting up.”

Whap, whap, whap, whap 

“Ow, ow, owowow, ow! You’re … you’re doing it too hard! Stop it!” 

Wriothesley chuckles somewhere far above you, the low timber of his voice blanketing over your muddied senses to make you shiver. “Actually, I don’t think I’m going hard enough yet. Not for the way you were behaving. Not to worry though, all in due time. This is just the warm up, after all.” 

You go stock still across his legs, your heart skipping a long, harrowing beat. A warm up - -

“Yeow! Sto - ah - ahhhp! Please!” 

Whap, whap, whap, whap 

Hanging your head low, you openly sob and kick at the air now, clutching his thick boot with one hand while the other hangs onto the chair leg in a death grip to somewhat steady yourself. The sharp stabs of pain seem to chip away at your consciousness bit by bit, each slap of his massive hand taking with it a little piece of you each time it recedes. You’re so dazed by the constant onslaught that you almost don’t notice when he abruptly pauses and grabs under your arms. 

Then you’re suddenly being hauled up and forced to stand on legs that immediately threaten to give out under you but Wriothesley just guides you around to stand between his legs. Furiously trying to wipe the evidence of tears from your face with a sleeve, you blearily watch as he brings his hands up to unbutton the front of your pants which he unceremoniously tugs down your legs to leave them bunched around your ankles. You can’t help but gasp, your cheeks burning even hotter at having your panties suddenly exposed to him, but you don’t get the chance to so much as suck in a shuddering breath let alone actually voice your protests. 

Just like that, he’s dragging you back down over his lap and you twist against his hold with renewed fervor, clawing viciously at any part of him you can reach. His palm mercilessly swatting you across the back of your underwear freezes you in place though, and you let out a high pitched, keening sound at this new level of hell he’s introduced you to. It’s so much worse without your slacks in the way and just the thin layer of cotton to protect you from the full brunt of his punishing slaps. You’re so caught up in trying to process the extent of it when he shifts over top of you that you don’t even think to shriek at him to stop — but then his unoccupied hand fists the material of your panties and yanks them up to pull firm against your screaming backside. You outright squawk and choke at the sensation only to realize what he’s doing a split second later when he swats your ass again and the hurt suddenly feels like it’s skin to skin. 

Howling in distress, you jerk and writhe against his legs but Wriothesley’s hold on your underwear effectively stops you from crawling away. You simply can’t escape it and the space between your ears is soon once again filled with the sharp swat! of his hand lighting you up. It was easily the worst thing you’d ever experienced, even putting aside the inherent humiliation of being spanked over his knee with your pants around your ankles. 

“Waaa - aahhaaaaaa! Your grace, I - I’m sorry … owwww!” 

“Are you now?” He murmurs, punctuating the soft tone of his voice with two blistering slaps, one to each cheek to leave you withering in his hold. “And what are you sorry for, little miss? Come on, speak up.” 

That was incredibly difficult to do when he wasn’t letting up on your ass for even a moment but, hoping against hope that placating him might make this end quicker, you suck in a haggard, gasping breath to steady yourself. “I’m sorry for - eek! I’m sorry for all the rude things I said to you earlier! Oww! I - I shouldn’t have come in here and - ahh! Ahh! I shouldn’t have disrespected you in your fortress, your grace! I promise I’m sorry!” 

“And what else?” 

What else? What else even was there! 

You desperately try to think, to figure it out, but your head is swimming so fast you start to think you might pass out. Loosing a broken moan, you agonizingly kick back and try to find purchase on the floor, only succeeding in half sliding off his knee. He easily readjusts his hold and rather meanly pulls harder on your panties though, making you squeal when they dig into your cunt and it essentially forces you to straighten your legs instead of slouching away from the continuous barrage of his hand. You choke on some kind of mindless animal sound and try to shove yourself forward in your desperation but he just spanks you even harder for the trouble. 

“Well? I’m waiting.” 

“I don’t know!” You cry out, dancing on the tips of your toes as if that would somehow alleviate some of the deep, throbbing ache encompassing your rear end. “I don’t know your grace, I don’t know but I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

You just barely manage to catch the sound of him clicking his tongue over your wailing. “How can you be sorry for something if you don’t even know what it is? You’re really not taking this seriously, are you?”

“I am!” 

He stops so abruptly you lurch, gasping, as if he’d followed through on delivering the next blow. Shuddering uncontrollably, you warily twist to look over your shoulder with big, wet eyes to watch him fold your panties down over your ass to join your slacks around your ankles. Realizing what he’s doing your fight or flight instincts seem to kick in like never before, and you hysterically wrench against his hold. To your stumbling surprise you actually manage to slip free for a split second, for the span of but a single heartbeat, and then he’s reaching up before you can get your trembling legs to cooperate and he roughly tucks you down across his thigh again. This time with that heavy, corded steel arm locked around your waist. 

“Wait, wait, wait - -“ 

Smack! 

Your ass promptly erupts in splinters, every single nerve ending in your behind vibrating numbly at the impact. It punches the air right out of your lungs, leaves you gasping for even a sliver of air, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully process the hurt. Smack, smack, smack, smack! The crack of his hand across your bare skin sounds deafening now and you shake uncontrollably as you cry out in unrestrained agony. Back and forth between each burning red, swollen cheek, he pays equal attention to both sides until it feels like the tingling flesh is quite literally on fire. You writhe against the blinding hurt and sob so hard the shudders wrack through you from head to toe even as you weakly try to push up and squeeze through his arm. It’s no use though. Wriothesley’s hold is as good as iron and all you can do is wrench at each blistering crack without any way to escape it. 

“Well?” He expectantly prompts, but you’re a little too far gone in the swimming daze to properly respond now, just noising a series of incomprehensible whines and mewls with every strike. Quickly picking up that you were slipping under now, he breathes out a stilted sigh. “If there is but one thing you take away from this,” He intones, still bringing his palm down again and again, and again. “Let it be to pick your opponents more wisely in the future. You don’t just get to walk in here and start calling the shots, do you understand me?” 

You croak out something that might be a yes, incomprehensibly slurred between all the tears and snot running down your face, and the sad little hiccups making your throat constrict. That seems to be good enough for him though, and he just presses on. 

“I was nice enough to invite you to come to Meropide,” smack, smack, smack, smack “Even though I could have turned you down right from the start. I already knew your little pet project wasn’t going to pan out,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I figured I’d at least hear you out first and this is how you decided to repay me? Despite what you probably think, I don’t like having to punish people,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I’m not about to let some upstart little brat come in here and try to tell me what my inmates need. You don’t know the first thing about this place no matter what all your worthless charts tell you.” 

Smack, smack, smack! Smack! 

You flinch, weakly rocking forward when the next slap never comes. Groaning thickly, you squirm and dance on your feet, trying to shake off some of the discomfort even though it’s useless, but still he just sits there. You’re distantly aware of him breathing a bit heavier than before, either worked up from the act itself or the physical exertion of delivering a sound spanking, and you just whine low in your throat at the resounding throb throughout your body. It seems to claw through you and set every single nerve to trembling vibration, leaving you quaking violently in his hold. 

Finally, what feels like an eternity later, Wriothesley draws a steadying inhale. “Have you learned your lesson?” 

“Y - yes …” You croak out with no shortage of effort, but his blocky fingers just dig into your hip to give you a brief jostle

“Wanna’ try that again?” 

Your already strained heartbeat somehow manages to become even more wild at the panic that rushes in to smother over you. What did he want? Would he spank you again if you didn’t figure out the answer? 

“Yes, sir?” 

“That’s better.” He relents, giving your shuddering thigh an amicable pat. Silence descends over the office for a drawn out beat and then he suddenly leans forward, half dragging you with him while he opens one of the drawers on the desk to rummage around. “I don’t think you’re really sorry, not yet. But you will be soon. I know I have that damn hairbrush Sigewinne gave me somewhere.” 

A hairbrush? 

Your blood turns to ice at the implication, and the fresh wave of fear that abruptly grips you in a chokehold seems to clear some of the fog from your head. You could think just a little bit clearer now and you did not like where your thoughts were going, not one bit. Surely he wouldn’t actually take it that far after already abusing your ass so much with his hand. 

“Your g - grace?”  

Ignoring or just not hearing the weak little mouse squeak, Wriothesley settles back into his chair again, grabbing a pinching handful of your inner thigh to drag it over his knee once more. He doesn’t quite force your body across his lap but he does make sure you’re stretched out in a rather inelegant sprawl that leaves your legs embarrassingly spread and you start to shake in earnest now. You hadn’t thought it was possible for the human body to vibrate at such a high frequency but that's exactly what seems to be happening as the crushing reality of the situation gradually settles over you like a shroud. 

And then, the press of something solid and flat touches your burning ass, and you practically jolt right up off his legs altogether. 

Your skin crawls with it making you feel truly sick and nauseous even as you frantically try to twist your neck around to see. He’s got you at such an awkward angle though that you can’t make out much of anything and your panic rapidly starts to ratchet up into damn near a full on attack until he gently taps the object against your behind to pull your attention back into the moment. 

“I’m going to give you twenty spanks with this brush, little miss. I want you to count them, and don’t forget to show me some respect while you do it.” 

“I - I - I can’t, sir, I can’t, I can’t take anymore, p - please, it’s too much - -“

“Hush. I’ve got you,” He coos, unexpectedly gentle and soft, but it doesn’t do much to ease your heaving gasps or the erratic pounding of your heart. Still, you find yourself grudgingly getting pulled into that tender croon and you make a conscious effort to calm down even as you sway unsteadily over his thigh. “You’re alright. You’ll just get yourself all worked up over nothing acting like that. Deep breaths. That’s it. Now take another for me. Good girl. See? You can listen when you want to. It’s not so bad, is it?” 

He offers the pudge around your hip a reassuring, possibly even approving squeeze when your breathing starts to slow to a normal, wheezing pant rather than the thin lungfulls you’d been sucking in just moments ago. You decidedly disliked him a great deal, perhaps more so than you’d ever disliked any one single person in all your life, but you were at least glad he was able to keep you grounded. Never mind the fact he was the cause of it to begin with, you were just thankful it didn’t feel like you were going throw up and pass out anymore. 

And still the throbbing burn across your ass keeps pulling tiny little whimpers from your dry throat. It really was too much. 

“Is it necessary?” You finally manage to rattle out. 

“The brush? In my eyes it is, yes. This will show me whether or not you’ve been paying attention this whole time, if you can be respectful towards me throughout this last leg even though you’ll probably want to curse me to high heaven and back. If you can tell me you’re really sorry when we’re done then it will be over. Does that sound agreeable to you?” 

Groaning in defeat, you hang your head low and just take a moment to think. Your options were regretfully limited but … you wanted to trust him at his word and, more importantly, you just wanted to have it done and over with already. The pain crawling across your backside was immeasurable, gradually receding to a dull, distant, but no less teeth clattering ache that reminded you it was there with every thrumming pulse, and he was right to say you wanted to curse him for it. You would have given anything to do just that but Wriothesley had made it clear what he expected of you. Obedience, compliance, respect. 

Perhaps you should have expected no less from the reclusive Duke of Meropide but you certainly would not be making this mistake again. 

“Yes, sir.” You whisper into the stillness at last, a sort of numb surprise curling over you at the lack of bite in your own voice. You’d expected to hear bitter tears, anger, defensive pride, not … such a soft, almost shaky little note of submission. 

The very idea that his unjust treatment of you had somehow accomplished exactly what it was meant to chills you almost as much as it brings you a strange sense of comfort which he only further enforces by warmly caressing his unoccupied palm over the curve of your bare waist. 

“Good. Then let’s get started.” 

An expectant pause and then — whap! 

You violently lurch, dizzy and disoriented from the sudden intensity of the impact. It was so different from his hand, so hard and unforgiving that it made your stomach feel like it was about to burst right up out of your throat. Reeling and weakly gasping in the aftermath, you futilely arch against the sting, kicking your legs out, but there’s no escaping it or shaking it off. The pain seems to engulf you all at once, making you choke on a haggard, gutted little sound. Like you couldn’t even scream around it and only whimper in breathless, mind numbing agony. 

“O - one, sir.” You finally manage to rattle out to his humming satisfaction. 

Whap! On the other sore cheek. 

“Oh! Oh, oh, oooohhhh, n - nnghhnhn!! Two, sir …” 

Whap! Back to the first. Whap! The second again. 

You can’t quite formulate the words now, just laying there spread out on Wriothesley’s lap while your legs uncontrollably shake and you suck in quick, faltering thin gasps of air in an attempt to reorient yourself. It was like the sharp, oppressively heavy stroke of the wooden brush was knocking your brain around and making it hard just to remember how to breathe. Sniffling back a rush of fresh tears, however, you force your mind to stay focused in the here and now rather than drifting off to some faraway place where you currently weren’t getting your ass beat. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Why he was making you count like this, to keep you firmly planted and present to ensure your attention didn’t start to slip at the first chance and you remained attentive for this final part of your trial. The sadistic bastard. 

“Four, sir …” 

Whap! Whap! 

“O - oooh, gods … s - six, sir.” 

Whap! Whap! 

You have to take a moment to collect yourself, to breathe through the sickening pain that encompasses your backside, and he waits patiently until you eventually lift your head again. “Eight, sir.” 

Whap! 

“Eeekk! Ahh, ah … nine — ahhn, sir!” 

Dazed and more than just a little lost in the hazy delirium swimming around your head, you slowly start to find and grasp at a tiny fraction of your inner strength. Your voice comes quicker, albeit thinner, as you hold your breath tightly over the course of the next few swats of the brush, finally seeing an end in sight just over the horizon. A few more and then you would be done. You could leave this place and never see the duke again for as long as you lived. 

“Fifteen, sir!” You hear yourself blurt out, nearly sobbing in relief only to choke on it when the next swing cracks down on the opposite cheek a second later. Seething viciously, you shake for a moment before gritting out the next number. And the next. 

You’re practically hysterical when you finally get to nineteen, all but blubbering across his lap, but you take the last strike like a champ, squealing a cursory, “Twenty, sir!” And then immediately giving in to the urge to dance on your toes, trying in vain to chase away some of the skin crawling ache by moving around. He leans back into the chair, just giving you a moment to process it on your own terms, before eventually loosening his arm around your middle so he can help you up. You move gingerly and wheeze through the process of getting your jelly filled legs underneath you but, at last, you find yourself standing between the wide spread of his knees and you cautiously reach back to rub your sore bottom. 

You regret it immediately, hissing at the intense heat coming off the abused skin as much as the stabs of pain just brushing your fingertips against the tender area causes. But before you can truly process the full brunt of it, he takes your wrist in hand and tugs it away from your behind so he can hold it between the two of you instead. 

“You’re welcome to try but it isn’t going to do much to take away any of the pain. You’ll have that reminder in the back of your mind for the next few days, any time you sit or your clothes rub against it.” A pause while he studies you with that frustratingly impassive expression, taking in your wet face, the clumps of your eyelashes where they’re sticking together, the distant look in your eyes. He takes it all in and then offers you a small, brief smile. “Are you sorry now?” 

You almost choose petulant silence but, not wanting to tempt fate any further, you slowly nod your head. “Yes, sir. I’m very sorry for how I acted towards you today, and for not listening when you told me to stop. I won’t do it again.” 

“Good girl.” Giving your fingers a quick squeeze, he reaches down to take hold of your hips in both of his massive hands and carefully guide you back a step so he can rise to his feet as well. “Alright, go stand in the corner. Face the wall and keep your cute bottom uncovered.”

Immediately planting your feet into the floor when he tries to nudge you in the general direction of the wall, you send him a flustered look of warning. “You said that would be the end of it.” 

“It was, and you did so well for someone whom I suspect hasn’t been spanked nearly enough in her lifetime. But,” Wriothesley quickly holds up a hand to stop you when you draw a sharp, scathing breath to snap at him with. “It’s usually customary to give you a chance to further reflect on your punishment while the sting settles the rest of the way in. Besides, I need to run down to the infirmary to get a cream for your butt and you can���t very well sit down right now, can you?”

“You are infuriating!” You practically spit at him, fists clenching with the urge to reach out and punch him square in the solar plexus. “What exactly do you think this is, your grace? A fun little afternoon we’ve shared together over tea and gossip? I don’t want your stupid cream! I want to leave this place and never be forced to look upon you ever again, do you hear me?” 

“Oh, I hear you loud and clear.” Wriothesley murmurs with an accompanying quirk of his brow to go along with it. “Gotta’ say though, I wasn’t expecting you to bounce right back to your earlier attitude so fast. Usually brats like you need a bit more time to recoup some of their charge after getting it all out of their system like that.”

You reel back in abject shock. “Brats like me? You have some nerve acting like I’m the problem when you just - -“ 

He reaches up quicker than you can react and abruptly pulls you into the front of him, one hand lifting to cradle your head against the firm, muscular wall of his body while the other curls around your back so you can’t escape. Your skin positively crawls at the contact, lips pulling back in a vicious snarl, but then … he just gently rocks you back and forth, softly petting your hair while he does it, and you go stock still in your surprise. You didn’t understand it. What he was doing or why he was doing it, and you understood even less why it almost made you feel a bit — funny inside. Tingly, almost. 

“There, there,” Wriothesley murmurs, just holding you tightly enough to prevent escape but still soft enough not to smother. “Is this what you need instead? I didn’t take you for the sort but I have no problem giving it to you as long as it gets rid of that grumpy frown for a little while. You’re way cuter when you don’t look so damn mad …” 

You stand there for a long beat unsure of how to react. Knowing you should kick up a fit, fight him tooth and nail, drag his name through the mud for how he’s treated you here today and yet — somehow the heat of his body, the heady scent of his muted cologne seems to drain the fight from your body. It leaves you feeling empty and hollow, and a sudden rush of emotions quickly floods in to replace it all. You don’t really understand it, nor are you entirely sure you want to, but you were a little too tired to keep up the pretense any longer. Not while there was a veritable storm whipping up inside your chest.

Eyes watering with a new, inexplicable sheen of tears, you slowly bring your hands up to clutch at his waistcoat. Maybe it would be okay if you entertained this for just another moment longer … maybe you could attack him when his guard was down after you’d finished fighting back the sobs suddenly threatening to wrack through your body. He’d chipped away at you, wiped the slate clean, so to speak, and now he was filling you back up with a comforting warmth you wouldn’t have expected from him given his icy demeanor. 

You still weren’t particularly fond of his methods but at least there was some amount of peace to be found in his embrace, and you may or may not have liked it just a teeny tiny bit. Not that you’d ever admit that to Wriothesley, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You could certainly keep the secret.

⭐

Crossposted: here

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

[songmingisthighs]

how ateez treats your child

group : ateez

pairing : ateez (individual) × single mom!reader

genre : fluff

wc : 3 k

warning : children. children are walking warning signs.

a/n : this cancelled my sleep so there's that </3

buy me coffee ?

hongjoong

The door of your apartment opened and in comes your son squealing happily for you, almost running inside until Hongjoong stopped him to take his shoes off first. As Hongjoong helped him, he was grinning widely at you who walked over to meet them halfway, "Hi mommy!" He called, finally able to rush to give you a huge hug once his shoes were completely off. "Hiya, bud! How was your day with Hongjoong?" Though you asked him, Hongjoong beat him to answering, "We had a great time! Little buddy here mastered the C, D, G, and A chord on the piano!" He boasted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pecking your lips gently making your son gag before rushing to put his backpack in his room.

You both separated momentarily and you cupped your boyfriend's face, "Seriously Joongie, thank you so much for picking him up from school, I swear I would've done-" Hongjoong stopped your rambling by planting another soft peck on your lips with a chuckle, "Hey, I told you we had a great time. I finally found someone who wouldn't complain sitting in my studio for hours on end and you can't take that away from me," teased, poking fun at the times you complained about him needing a break from his work.

Just as you were about to shower him with more affection, your son returned to push Hongjoong away with all his might. "My turn to hug mommy!" He said after he managed to unlatch Hongjoong from you. Feeling challenged, Hongjoong pulled him away just as he was about to wrap all four of his limbs around you, "No way, I spent the day with you now I want time with my girlfriend." Hongjoong knew how jealous your son can be because he too is a jealous man. So as expected, your son screeched and began to try to get Hongjoong as far away from you as he could. But of course, Hongjoong retaliated, using your son's socks clad feet to carefully push him just enough so he'd slide away from you while you stood there both confused and amused at their shenanigans.

seonghwa

On Saturdays, you'd usually spend the morning catching up with your friends and knowing this, Seonghwa made sure to sleep over on Fridays as often as he could to help care for your daughter (which is crap because he's always at your place anyways). Unbeknownst to you, he and your daughter had bonded beyond your imagination. Not that you were surprised since Seonghwa had spent years taking care of a group filled with 5 year olds, your own 5 year old must've been easy to take care of.

When you came back from your brunch, you were surprised to find Seonghwa and your daughter by the dining table, your daughter standing on a chair and Seonghwa close to her side, looking absolutely serious. They had their arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed as they stared at the 10 plates of cake in front of them. It was honestly an adorable sight because for some reason, you saw how they looked so similar.

"Am I interrupting something?" You chuckled as you approached them. Seonghwa welcomed you by wrapping an arm around your hip and kissing the side of your head as youe daughter answered, "Hwahwa and I are food testing again! Today's theme is bakery we can't pronounce!" She grinned widely before returning to glare at the cakes. "Aaaaaand why are you guys only staring at these cakes?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head, "We can't decide where to start so we're trying to rank them from the prettiest first before actually sampling them," Seonghwa explained. "And it's such a hard decision!" Your daughter groaned and dramatically leaned on Seonghwa for support. Reciprocating, your boyfriend also faked a cry, turning around to let you go in favour of hugging your daughter, "We are stuck in a dilemma!" "Well, whatever you guys decide to do, better do it fast before the ants tries the cakes first," you sighed before retreating to change, leaving your boyfriend and your daughter to go back to... whatever activity they were doing.

yunho

Babysitting was something Yunho didn't expect to do for his girlfriend. Then again, he didn't expect that he'd be dating a single mom. Luckily, you had the most precious daughter that just melt Yunho's whole being and he loves her so much that he didn't consider babysitting as babysitting anymore.

As he was washing the dishes after eating the food he got for him and your daughter, he heard the soft pitter patter of her tiny feet and then he felt soft tugs on his sweatpants. Without abandoning his task, Yunho looked down at the girl with a gentle smile, "Yes, peanut?" She giggled happily, liking the nickname a lot. "Can you teach me how to dance?" She asked, tilting her head to the side like the most adorable puppy ever. Yunho grinned widely because he had always wanted to impart some of his knowledge to someone and the most imparting he had done was turning his little brother to a gaming nerd. After wiping his hands with a rag, Yunho crouched down to the girl's level (as best he could because even when crouching down, the tiny girl only reached his chin), "Okay then, what dance do you wanna learn?"

Your daughter decided that she wanted to learn Bouncy which wasn't even in the list of dances Yunho offered her as he thought it would be too hard for her. But she was adamant, shaking her head so hard that her pigtails almost came loose. But to Yunho's pleasant surprise, the girl was amazing. She picked up the choreography smoothly in 3 tries. Sure, Yunho had to simplify certain parts but she got most of the choreography down. He couldn't help but takw a video of them dancing together and sending it to his groupmates, parents, and even you, captioning it 'look at me and my peanut ♡'.

yeosang

It was a casual day which was rare for both you and Yeosang. Since your life has been so hectic, you decided to stay in with your son who decided he wanted to use the time he had to finish his homework. Yeosang and he had been friendly with each other but they were not close (yet) as they haven't spent much time together nor have they found anything in common. But you were hopeful.

You and Yeosang were cuddled on the couch as the TV played a drama that you and he wanted to watch while your son sat on the floor with his homework spread open on the portable desk. "I'll be right back sweetie," you told Yeosang, patting him on the thigh before walking away to go to the bathroom. At first, Yeosang only paid attention to the tv but from the corner of his eyes, he could see your son looking around for you every so often, lips pouting and hand scratching his head which indicated that he was stuck on his homework. For some reason, Yeosang found it in him to be the first one to make the move, "Hey there buddy, what homework do you got there?" He asked, catching your son by surprise. For a moment, your son could only look back and forth between the homework and Yeosang, hesitating. Yeosang was about to tell him that he didn't have to share when your son grabbed his book and walked over to Yeosang on his knees and dropped the book on Yeosang's lap, "It's math but I don't know how to do this," he said sadly, gesturing to the opened page. Yeosang grinned widely and his chest puffed with pride, "Well, lucky for you, I'm a math wiz! Come on, let's solve this together."

When you came back, you saw Yeosang had situated himself next to your son on his portable desk, teaching him how to solve the equations that he was stuck on and he was conversing with the boy so well. He allowed the boy to try and solve the equation and gently letting him know where he was wrong. They were so immersed that they hadn't realized you returning to your seat as they took a break to play the multiplication game, evem teasing each other when the other took too long to answer.

san

San loved kids and it showed with how he actually volunteered on babysitting your son as you go on a business trip. At first you were worried because your son had never been away from you to be in a place that's not your home. But San convinced you that it was fine, he was fine with spending time with his best bud and if it wasn't for the great bond they had, you wouldn't have been able to leave your baby to tend to your responsibilities.

"Say bye to mommy!" San urged your son who was sitting on his lap wearing his beanie. "Bye mommy! I miss you!" Your son said as he waved his hands to the camera while San did the same, throwing lots of air kisses your way before hanging up. As soon as the call ended, your son went back to watching San played a game. "Is that uncle Yunho?" He asked, reaching forward to point at a character on the screen. San grinned widely and pat the boy on the head gently, "That's right, bud! You're starting to understand the game, don't you?" They spent another hour like that, San playing the game with Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho as your son ask him questions and eventually even tried a round (to which he died within 30 seconds and San had to hug and reassure him that he'd teach him how to play better and in time, he might be great).

Without realizing, as it was his habit, San started singing random songs that popped into his head. The crisp sound of keyboard and mouse clicking paired with San's honey voice proved to induce sleep in your son as his eyes drooped low and his eyelids fluttered ever so gently before closing. It took a while for San to realize that your son had been quiet, only leaning on his sturdy chest. When he looked down, San almost squaled at just how adorable your son looked sleeping so comfortably; one of his eyes covered by the beanie that had shifted, his mouth agape, and his body completely relaxed comfortably in San's lap. Carefully, San took a selfie of him and your son, changing the picture to his homescreen before shutting the game and bringing the boy who wrapped his arms tightly around San's neck when San lifted him up to the bed so he could sleep soundly. Even then, your son refused to let go of San, holding onto two of San's fingers as he dozed off to dreamland where San soon followed.

mingi

Kids were something Mingi wanted in the future. He knew he wanted to have his own but he knew that he's going to have to learn and practice before actually having one. Which was a predicament considering he's dating someone with a 3 year old daughter. But she's just the most precious thing ever that Mingi pushed his insecurities away to dote on the princess.

Like now, Mingi found himself unable to peel away from your bed where your daughter was napping. He was mesmerized at how adorable she looked with her tiny tiny snores and absolute relaxed expression. "Mingi, baby, you're going to wake her up if you keep staring at her like that," you said, poking your boyfriend on his shoulder for him to simply wave you off, "No I won't, I promise. I'm just trying to understand how she's so absolutely adorable like a tiny tiny marshmallow," he squeaked in utter adoration. You couldn't help but smile and rolled your eyes at how whipped Mingi was for your daughter but you couldn't blame him. "Well, I'm going to go the convenience store because the little princess is going to want her yogurt when she wakes up and we're out. So you try your best to not eat this tiny tiny marshmallow," you teased him before leaving the room and the apartment.

After a while, Mingi felt a little thirsty so he carefully got off the bed and went to the kitchen. He was just taking his first gulp when he heard soft whimpers and sobs coming from your room. Immediately, he put the glass down and rushed to the little girl who was sitting up on the bed, sniffling because she thought she was left alone. When she heard Mingi came in, she immediately reached both hands towards him, asking to be picked up. "Minnie," she whimpered with trembling bottom lip. Without thinking, Mingi scooped the girl up in his arms and started calming her down while she clung on him for dear life. "Don't worry princess, Minnie's here, Minnie's got you," he repeated, smiling to himself when he heard the girl calming down as she nuzzled her face on his shoulder, finally content.

wooyoung

Initially you hesitated dating Wooyoung because you have a daughter. A 4 year old daughter who is your whole life and the very reason you hesitated being in a relationship. But when you found Wooyoung who absolutely adored your daughter, you knew you made the right choice taking the leap.

Usually, the men you date would make you leave your daughter at your friend's or with a babysitter or even with your parents by guilt-tripping or bluntly stating that they didn't feel comfortable with your kid. Not Wooyoung though, not at all. He's the type to want to take your daughter on your dates, even going as far as planning the date around your daughter. You couldn't forget her face when Wooyoung took her to the fox cafe, seeing them both running around the place and somehow blending in with the animals. That day, Wooyoung came home with 137 nee pictures and videos of your daughter going nuts over the animals. Since then, they were insepparable.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up my daughter," you smiled at the receptionist of the daycare who stared at you in confusion. "I-I'm sorry, but someone already came in for your daughter," she said, causing your eyes to bulge out in panic, "What? Who? Why would you let a stranger take my child?" Your voice was getting louder which scared the poor receptionist. "I-I'm sorry ma'am it-it's just that, your daughter called him papa so I-" "Papa? Who-" just as you were about to continue, your eyes saw a very familiar figure holding your daughter in his arms, happily talking. Wooyoung's eyes met yours and he momentarily paused, realizing that he got caught "kidnapping" your daughter. Just as you were about to call for him, Wooyoung grinned widely and pointed at you which caused your daughter to turn in his arms and beamed. "Now, say bye bye to mama!" He teased but your daughter did as she was told anyways, waving at you happily saying bye bye before Wooyoung whisked her away without any care, casually walking out of the daycare as if you weren't frozen in your spot, looking at them leaving just like that.

jongho

Jongho knew what he got himself into when he agreed to date you, knowing full well that you have a son. He didn't really care about whether or not you have a child but he grew very fond of the boy rather quickly. How can he not? The boy seemed to take a liking to Jongho to the point that he idolized the man. Especially Jongho's strength.

The three of you went out for a picnic because it was such a beautiful day and your son remembered Jongho saying that he should be out when the sun is out. As he was helping you take food out, he noticed the boy was doing the same, even taking glances at how Jongho was doing things. It was absolutely adorable. Suddenly, Jongho stood up and reached for a bag to produce a soccer ball. "Hey, bud," he spun and tossed the ball in his hands and you could see your son getting so hyped up, super excited, "Wanna learn how to play soccer?" Jongho asked. Seeing as your son basically had sparkles in his eyes, you could only roll your eyes playfully and shoo them off to play so you could FINALLY set the food up in peace..

They chose a spot not too far, somewhere you can still keep an eye on your son but still relax in the shady area with your book. Jongho and your son were having a blast being active together. The boy was thrilled to have been given personal coaching from the guy he admired most and Jongho was experiencing the joy of mentoring a child who looked up to him as much. "There you go, buddy! That's it!" Jongho cheered when your son managed to kick the ball with a running start. Unfortunately, once the ball was kicked, he tripped and fell on the grass. Just as you were about to rush to him, you saw Jongho rushing at the boy who had tears brimming in his eyes and a quivering bottom lip, frozen on the ground not knowing what to do. Without hesitation, Jongho pulled the boy up and hugged him tightly in his strong arms, "I'm so proud of you, buddy! That was such a good kick!" Jongho was hoping that by reminding him of his achievement, your son wouldn't focus much on his fall which thankfully happened. When your son pulled away from Jongho's hug, he was giggling while wiping the tears away with his arm, nodding shyly. "Do you think you can do that again after we eat something?" Jongho asked as he adjusted the boy before swooping down to grab the ball on the ground and walking towards where you were. You've never seen your son so excited talking about anything to anyone and frankly, you couldn't be more glad that it was Jongho who made him so.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo @asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut

@chloepurpy

#cultofdionysusnet #sandsofirenet #kflixnet #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #ateez au #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop reactions #kpop fanfic #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #smt scenarios #smt imagines #smt reactions

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 1

( in which you prove to be far more trouble he thought you'd be )

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 4.6k

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Note: the crowd is booing so loud at the sight of pregnancy but I don’t care!!! slice of life makes my head go brrr. lol in all seriousness I hope you all enjoy this lil story! It’s just a mini series that is super domestic and light hearted! it popped into my head and I had to write it down so enjoy! also this hasn't been proofread, we die like men

The room was suffocatingly silent. 

Jungkook had ignored it promptly though, leaned back in his leather chair, hair dusting over his eyes slanting his view, but his sight couldn’t be more accurate then it already was. 

This was not what he had asked his men to do. 

“I…” Your voice scratched, trying to find something to say, not only had you been kidnapped a mere hour ago, but now you had been brought into your captor's home and taken to him directly.

Your throat tightened as your heart beat frantically, you couldn’t be scared right now, you needed to take action before it was too late, “I understand why I’m here but please,” You looked up at him earnestly, “I…I’m due in early December. You can sell me off, keep me here, do what you want with me but please, Mr Jeon, give my baby a chance."

Your eyes blurred at just the thought, your hands hugging over your swollen stomach. You had been so shaken up the whole time that it hadn’t even occurred to you how fast this had all happened. 

It was late and you had been worried your brother found himself in trouble again, one minute you were getting ready to phone him, the next the door was smashed open to men in suits, guns in the air and tearing the whole apartment up. 

You were taken as…what you could only assume was collateral, you knew who Mr Jeon- you had informally met before.

Your brother had been paying him ransome for protection against…well…You supposed there was no reason to bother recounting everything. You were here now, in front of Jeon Jungkook, who looked less than pleased at the moment. 

What made you worried however was his continued silence, he was never a man of many words, or at least that's the impression you had always gotten when your brother and him would meet. 

Jungkook shifted in his chair, his lip visibly twitched before he muttered, “Get her out of here.” 

You felt your stomach lurch as you were yanked out of your chair with a yelp, “In one piece.” Jungkook added with an annoyed glint in his eye. 

The grip on your arms was relaxed immediately before you were jostled out of the room leaving it in silence once more. 

“It was the best we could do Sir,” Yeonjun spoke, crossing his arms behind his back, “We searched the whole apartment but Wonho was gone. We took her for collateral until he’s found.” 

Jungkook looked more visibly angry, “You brought me a pregnant defenseless woman.” He stood up in his chair, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” 

Yeonjun lifted his hands, “Send a message out to Wonho, tell him we have his sister and we’ll see if he actually has a soul and gets the money to save her.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” Jungkook challenged, his eyes brewing hellfire as he inhaled sharply, Yeonjun had wisely chosen to not engage in his questions anymore, “I’m not going to kill her for fucks sake, even I have my limits.” 

Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he leaned against the desk. 

“Well we can't just release her now,” Yeonjun replied, “So what do you want me to do with her?” 

Jungkook crossed his arms, his jaw clenched in anger as he shook his head in thought. Who’s bright idea was it to take her ransome? Truly? Because he knew Yeonjun wasn’t that stupid. 

“Put her in a nice room, draw her a bath, offer a foot massage. She’s fucking pregnant, do I have to keep reminding you?” Jungkook hissed out as he waved his hand about.

“Noted.” Yeonjun sighed, “Anything else you wanna add to that list?” 

“Yeah, if I hear about one bruise, one little fucking scrape on her, I’ll have everyone lined up and shot in the living room.” Jungkook replied, before turning around to sit back down, “Now go. I don’t wanna see anyone unless they have something about that rat that isn’t a waste of my time.” 

Yeonjun nodded and said no more, leaving while his head was somehow still intact. Jungkook collapsed in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Wonho had fucked up more then just not paying his debts, he had leaked sensitive information to the Kim’s and it had him on extremely thin ice right now. 

He didn’t need a bystander involved in this situation. Jungkook crossed his arms in thought as he leaned back in his chair, you were a familiar enough face for Jungkook to recognize, you had only met a handful of times and was never involved in more dangerous dealings your brother dealt with. 

Quiet, you were considerably quiet, though Jungkook can recount a few small harmless conversations you had both made while waiting on your brother or in other circumstances that would call for something as such. But it had been awhile since he had seen you. 

Obviously long enough for you to get knocked up and in the middle of a pregnancy. Jungkook exhaled as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stress induced headache he had. 

Yeonjun was right, now that they had you it would be better to just keep you here and out of the line of fire, if they let you go now there was no telling what you would do, would you warn your brother? Would he sell you out? 

Would the Kim’s have kidnapped you as well? 

Jungkook had made the decision that yes, it would just be easier to keep you here at his estate, more as a guest than actual collateral because he honestly didn’t believe the idea that your brother would actually care about anyone but himself, he had proven that countless times. 

Jungkook may have not known you personally, but given your display of groveling, it was evident you felt the same.

This…was not what you had expected.

Your lips parted in shock as the door shut behind you, the rooms were easily bigger than your little apartments living room, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and plenty of spare space, large windows were next to the bed with tall hanging curtains and a writing desk was on the wall next to it. 

Then there was the bathroom, a claw foot bathtub and fluffy towels all folded up with various shampoos and soaps on display. You had to rub your eyes twice to figure out if you had been hallucinating. Everything was…nice…

You weren’t sure what you had expected but this wasn’t it. The water was hot against your skin as you showered, a little paranoid albeit, waiting for the door to bust down once again and for them to drag you into a less nice room. 

But the men never came as you laid in bed, shifting constantly to try and fall asleep.

One of the downsides of being pregnant was not being able to sleep on your stomach the way you had been, your side felt uncomfortable and your back kept cramping anytime you laid for too long on your back. 

Your hand gently brushed over the bump with a sigh, you didn’t understand why Jungkook would do this. You had spoken to him a handful of times, and while you wouldn’t describe him as a charismatic person, he was polite. But you had heard the stories about him, rumors of something much darker than who you had talked to that lurked beneath. 

Jungkook was a CEO of a small export company, big enough that he had well established connections in the upper socialite world but small enough that he evaded being in the spotlight of hollywood and its nosy media reporters. 

He refused photoshoots or magazine interviews at whatever cost and only attended parties unless it was absolutely necessary. Or so he had somewhat jokingly recalled one evening when you both were sitting at a club bar, somewhat awkwardly waiting for your brother who had gotten busy with a prostitute after Jungkook had come later then he said. 

Whether this was all true or not was beyond you. 

You supposed at the end of the day you should be thankful he’s chosen to keep you alive, for now. But dread filled your stomach, after all, you were only alive on borrowed time. 

It was a beautiful day outside, it was early morning but the sun was shining bright with billowy thick clouds and it was still cool outside, but within a few hours the heat would once again be scorching hot just as it was yesterday. 

You had taken an extensive amount of time to take in the gardens as well, marigolds, tulips, buttercups and so many more were all around, well taken care of by the looks of it. It was gorgeous. 

This, of course, was all in an effort to avoid the gaze of the person who sat in front of you on the small table on the terrace. 

“You should eat,” Jungkook finally spoke, his hair was tied out of his face, giving you for the first time ever, a good look at his face. It was well sculpted with a chiseled jawline that oddly suited his rounded button-like nose. 

His thick brows were pinched as if he were angry as he ate, but you at some point realized the food must've just been that good, “You’re eating for two after all.” He added, “Nothing’s poisoned, if you couldn’t tell by now.” 

He gestured to his own plate, which had a serving of just about everything on the table on it, this made a weak smile tug on your lips, feeling oddly reminiscent of the few conversations you had shared before.

But this was very different. 

You were definitely hungry though, you had been craving syrup and fried chicken since four in the morning and while there was no chicken on the table, there was definitely syrup that could cure one of your cravings.

Hesitantly you put a few crepes onto your plate, adding some sausage as well before drizzling syrup over them.

“How was it?” 

You glanced up at him, not intentionally ignoring him, but to say you were still terrified of him was a bit of an understatement, “...What do you mean?” You finally asked, your voice no more than a whisper.

Jungkook wiped his mouth with an intricately decorated napkin, “Your room, it was rushed last night. They didn’t have time to put everything in there, you’ll be getting a wardrobe today but I didn’t know your size for maternity wear- or if that’s something you even wanted. You’ll have to discuss it with Jimin regardless.” 

You stared at him blankly for a long moment as he met your eyes, “What?” 

“Mr Jeon-”

“Jungkook.” His brows pinched, though this was not because of what he was eating. 

You stuttered, “...Jungkook,” You corrected yourself, still somewhat uneasy, “Um…I don’t understand, anything that’s going on.”

Jungkook sighed, as if he were expecting this as he leaned back in his seat, the buttons on his black shirt clinging for dear life as his chest puffed a little to stretch, “I doubt you know anything about your brother’s where abouts,” He replied, “And truthfully I’m sure you know he could give less then two shits about you or your baby.” He paused for a moment at the smallest sight, your lips briefly quivering and then your eyes darting to your plate. You were upset, but trying to hide it. It made him internally wince, perhaps his wording wasn’t the best. 

He cleared his throat as he continued, “So until this is all resolved you’ll be staying here, it’s the easiest thing to do with you at this point now that you’re involved. With your consent or against it. That’s up to you. But if you want to keep your baby safe then you’ll be smart and not try to escape.” 

You glanced up at him for a long moment before your hands curled, “You’re the one that kidnapped me. And it’s somehow my fault that I’m involved in my brother's affairs that I never wanted to be a part of to begin with?” 

Jungkook only curved a brow, quickly reminding you that you’re not in a position to be chastising him. 

However his lack of anger surprised you, in fact he sounded the opposite, “I did not kidnap you, my men did, without my knowledge of the whole situation. They made a split second decision in bringing you here, and indirectly involving you in the matter. It was a mistake on my behalf and I apologize for it.” 

You stared at him now in disbelief at his sincerity as he continued, “I’m trying to make up for it as best I can now by having you stay here. If you leave now it’s likely the Kim’s will take you hostage and see what information they can get out of you, or hell I wouldn’t put it past your brother to just sell you to them.” 

“My…my brother wouldn’t-”

“We both know the truth,” Jungkook cut you off with a frown, “There’s no point in trying to comfort yourself with a lie. There’s no telling what could happen if we let you walk out that door on your own. So like I said, if you’re smart and you want to keep your baby safe, you’ll stay here. How miserable you want to make this experience is up to you, but I have no plans of making you a hostage or holding you prisoner.” 

You slow began to eat, though having to hold back the urge to devour your whole plate, one bite had unleashed the monstrous appetite that had been lurking inside for the last six hours. 

“And I don’t suppose you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart,” You replied, “You have to want something in return.” 

Jungkook took a large bite out of his bratwurst, “You’re right,” he nodded before taking a drink of champagne, “I want you to stay out of trouble and not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Two requests, you think you can manage that?” 

You both stared at one another for a long moment before you glanced at your plate, “I don't suppose there’s much choice is there?” 

Jungkook shrugged, “Depends on your perspective, you could easily raise hell if you wanted, but I’d prefer you not. Where’s your husband? The last thing I need is someone nosing about trying to look for you. It would be better to just inform him and get things settled right away.” 

Jungkook paused though at the sight of you stiffening a little, your jaw clenching as you grabbed your flute of water. 

“I don’t have a husband,” You finally spoke after taking a long drink, “Or boyfriend. I work at the Bakery on main street though, they’ll want to know why I’m unable to come in to work.” 

Jungkook looked curious, but he didn’t ask questions, “Very well, consider it taken care of.” 

He didn’t want to pry but he was undeniably curious about your circumstances, caught up in all of this, pregnant without a husband or partner. Jungkook had never considered you the type of woman to sleep around, having always been rather shy around him but then again, perhaps it was because you had always known who he truly was. 

Still though, it was rather curious indeed, and there was nothing more Jungkook enjoyed in his past time than a good mystery.

Rather than let the silence linger Jungkook asked, “How far along are you? This could be resolved in a few days, or it can take months. I’d rather make arrangements now for the later rather than be caught unprepared.” 

“Twenty two weeks,” You replied, your hand pressing against your stomach as you looked down at your baby bump, a brief smile tugging on your face before it fell at the sight of Jungkook’s face, a bit confused before you weakly smiled once more, “Five and a half months. Like I said yesterday, my due date is December 13th

You had been anxious before about delivery your baby, after all, you had never done it before. But you're definitely anxious now at the idea of having to do it while being held as a guest in the Jeon Estate. 

Labor was already a painful experience, you don't want to have to go through it alone in an environment like this. Jungkook only nodded though, “I’ll have my personal doctor come by and fill in the role of your practitioner for check ins with the baby. A midwife will also be on staff for check-ins as well. If you need anything else just let me know. I’ll find time during the day to see you at least once.” Jungkook checked his watch as he sat upright, “But I have to go now, business to do. Yeonjun will show you around and then Jimin will be around to talk to you in further detail about your wardrobe.”

Jungkook grabbed his satin black jacket off the back of his chair as he stood up before leaving you alone. With a sigh of relief you sunk into your chair, having not released the breath you held in until you let it out before feasting on your breakfast while thinking about his words. While this was not an ideal situation, you couldn’t deny Jungkook’s kindness.

You had been settling in for the last week and a half with an odd amount of contentment, your days were filled with a lot less physical labor then before, though you did miss going out and seeing your coworkers and interacting with regular customers. 

There was a certain sense of peace the estate gave you though, you still took your daily walks in the garden accompanied by Yeonjun who had been personally assigned to oversee you and he was a rather funny person. 

His humor was dry and it was even funnier watching him interact with Jungkook. 

He served as good company as did a few other people you had met, Jimin being one of them, he oversaw the finances of the estate and basically kept the place running while Jungkook was off doing business, only ever bothering him when something of substantial financial sum was needed for something.

And true to his word you saw and spoke to Jungkook at least once a day as he said, either in the morning for breakfast or in the afternoon for dinner. But the talk was usually the same, either about this or that, small talk.

You supposed it wasn’t that bad, considering the situation you were in you should consider yourself lucky that Jungkook is who he is. Regardless, you didn’t feel comfortable asking him about your brother.

First off what had he done for you to be put in this position and more importantly, where had your brother disappeared to? You had no doubt many of Jungkook’s days were spent searching for him, which made you wonder, just what had your brother done?

You dismissed it from your mind, you had been trying to detach yourself from whatever consequences would eventually find your brother, after all Jungkook had a point- no matter how much it stung to hear.

You loved Wonho, you just wished for once he would put you first, that he would put anyone first, you couldn’t even remember when he spiraled down this destructive path of dealing in narcotics that got him all tangled up in gangs and inevitably, the mafia. 

Just that somewhere along the way your brother had turned into a total jerk that was willing to sabotage anyone to save his own skin. 

Just the reminder of the argument you had about this very topic had run through your head when talking to Jungkook, it was the reason you had chosen to stay here giving him no problems. 

While you still didn’t feel comfortable because again, you weren’t exactly staying out of complete free will, you did feel safe here. For once, you felt safe. Your hand rubbed over your stomach as you aimlessly walked through the halls. 

Yeonjun had an online meeting he was attending in his office which meant you were free to roam the inside of the estate of your own meanwhile, he had given you the grand tour when your first morning and yet it seemed like you were still finding new rooms. 

Curiously you walked through the ballroom, or the equivalent to one, it was a grand room big enough to host an expensive party for sure. Poking your head into different doors you never knew what to expect. 

Closing the last door you walked a little further before you let out a breath, grabbing your stomach at the small kick you just felt. 

“You’re a little sucker aren’t you?” You winced out, the little kicks themselves weren’t painful, it was mainly your sudden back pain that had you leaning against the wall for support. 

What you hadn’t expected though was for the wall to press inward before back out, revealing a hidden door. 

You quickly straightened up right, back pain forgotten as your lips parted. Of course mobster Jeon Jungkook would have a hidden door in the fancy ballroom of his estate, you shouldn’t have expected less. 

You opened it up as you peered inside before delight filled your face, it was filled to the brim with books and the entire wall was made up of glass giving an expanse view into the garden, and there was a wide window sill with soft cushions making up a seat. 

Sliding as best you could inside the door shut behind you as you stepped further in, it looked magical in here easily, lights were strung up though they looked dusty, as if they hadn’t been used in years. 

How had you never noticed this during the walks in the garden before? Sitting down you curiously nosed through books, mostly children's books oddly enough. You smiled however as your hands constantly rubbed over your tummy, a soothing habit you had developed as the bump grew.

While you still weren’t fond of the idea of giving birth here, if you had too, you were relieved to know there were supplies here that wouldn’t be horrible to utilize for your baby. You could just imagine holding them swaddled against your chest, laying against the soft pillows reading here on a rainy day. 

Standing up you groaned as you grabbed your back, Yeonjun would be wondering where you were at soon, after all he said his meeting wouldn’t be long. But you would certainly keep this place in the back of your mind as somewhere to go during quiet moments in the day. 

Walking back up to the wall you pressed on it before your happy expression slowly shifted. 

There wasn’t a door handle.

You pressed on the wall once more, a little more forceful hoping it would latch open again but unfortunately it didn’t budge. Your heart rate immediately spiked as you tried to calm yourself down.

This is fine. 

You sat back down on the cushioned window sill trying to think rationally. Yeonjun would be sure to look for you and if he couldn’t find you which means he’d call Jungkook which would mean…

Somehow the idea of that happening brought you less comfort than before. Jungkook would assume you had made a run for it and would probably not even bother to look for you. 

In fact, he’d probably be relieved that you were gone and he’d no longer have to deal with you. 

“What the fuck do you mean you lost her!?” Jungkook hissed out venomously and not a single man dared speak up as he glared daggers at Yeonjun who held his breath for a moment, “She’s six months pregnant how the fuck do you just lose someone who’s six months pregnant!?” 

Jungkook was damn near ready to rip out his hair, he was already dealing with multiple loose ends on his part and now you were magically gone? 

“Where’s the CCTV at?” Jungkook growled as he ripped his jacket off, tossing it at his chair, he was burning up and his hand was itching to grab the gun that was shoved in his back pocket. 

“It’s been fried,” Jimin winced a little at Jungkook’s livid expression, “I went to check the moment I heard she was gone but it looks like someone sabotaged it just an hour ago.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched, “So what you’re saying is not only did all of you lose her, but she got fucking kidnapped in the process?” His hands curled into fists as he paced back and forth trying to not lose his cool any further as he viciously smiled, “This place is a goddamn fortress with over forty men guarding it and somehow, my CCTV footage got fried and guest got kidnapped within an hour and nobody noticed? Nobody!?” 

“There’s been no signs of breaking and entering though.” Yoongi, his business partner who had been sitting there watching the whole thing finally spoke up, “If somebody got in, we would’ve got the word. It’s like you said, you have over forty men on staff here.” 

Jungkook seemed to cool down a bit at his words but his tone was still sharp, “And the CCTV? What else could’ve fried it?” 

“The fact that you haven’t replaced it in the last five years?” Yoongi shrugged before snorting, “Maybe a bird chewed through the wiring, maybe it shorted. Hell if I know, what I do know is that it’s not normal for you to get this worked up over something.” 

Jungkook’s nostrils flared, “Because somebody’s life is on the line here. What about Y/n!? If she had left on her own there would be at least something indicating she left.” 

“Then maybe she didn’t leave.” Yoongi shrugged, causing Jungkook to pause his pacing as he stared at Yoongi accusingly, “What? It’s the truth, the estate is big Jungkook, she’s only been here a week, she probably just got lost. There’s no reason to make a big deal out of this when there’s no indication that points to it being a big deal.” Jungkook looked annoyed but said nothing to him, only muttering for them all to spread out and search the estate. 

It had been three hours of searching, every nook and cranny, under every bed in every closet and Jungkook had just about lost all hope as he gazed out the tall windows in the ballroom when he noticed something odd. 

The door to his childhood library was stuck in an odd position, it was old and he hadn’t been in here in ages, the door used to get jammed if it wasn’t closed properly. 

Luckily all it took was a little force to get open, he gave it a good shove before it clicked back into place and propped open as he peered inside. Mouth gaping at the sight of you jumping up in surprise, looking half asleep with a book in hand. 

Your smile was just as guilty as the rest of you as you said, “Hi…I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever find me.” 

“Out. Now.” Jungkook looked mad, but he was secretly relieved that you were safe. He’d rather you be stuck in the library by accident than having tried to make a mad dash on your own out of the estate.

Just the sight of your sulky pout let him know one thing for sure; you were absolutely not going to be able to follow his two requests, for better or worse. 

#bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader imagine #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts au #mafia!jungkook

[delumimi]

Trouble Sleeping?

Summary: You are tired of Leon’s snoring.

Gender: Fluff.

Pairing: Death Island Leon x Reader.

A/N: I had to redo this twice ‘cause it got deleted but anyways this is so short i am sorry, I have to clarify that english isn’t my native language so I apologize for any grammar errors, enjoy!

Your marriage with Leon was all you could’ve asked for after so many years of being in love with him, 3 years of dating and now 1 freshly year of marriage, you are so grateful to have someone like Leon as a partner. You respect him and he respects you and there’s no doubt that you two love each other intensely.

However… That doesn’t mean you don’t have problems.

You were currently in your bedroom bed staring deeply at the ceiling stuck in thoughts with a strong frown on your face, sitting up a little you take a look at the clock

2:45 AM.

Leon had an annoying habit at snoring so loud at night, and you understood that he was tired after returning from missions, poor boy never gets to relax at his job but as much as you loved him, you needed to rest tonight.

Sighing, you turn to your side to observe his peaceful state, you almost felt guilty for having to wake him up but he lead you no option.

You raise your hand and place it against his mouth attempting to shut him up for once. To your surprise, Leon stirs a little in his sleep but roughly, he turns to his other side kicking his legs almost throwing you out of the bed. Snoring even louder.

This motherfucker….

Alright, challenge accepted.

You look around trying to find something until an idea crosses your mind.

Smiling wickedly, you take a small pillow and turn to his side again.

You press the pillow on his mouth carefully enough to not suffocate him as you search his face looking for any signs of discomfort but you don’t see any.

The snoring stops but now noises are coming out of his lips thanks to the pillow making pressure on it, making him look like he is beatboxing.

Okay, this was definitely it.

You pat his chest now seriously wanting him to wake up.

“Leon.” You whisper quietly so you don’t scare him as he wakes up.

But… No response.

Sighing you pat his chest harder this time.

“Leon? Wake up.” You tell him again firmly.

Still no response.

“Leon! Wake uuuup.” You start to shake his body roughly this time, getting desperate but he doesn’t react.

What is he? A bear hibernating or something?

You start to get more annoyed, Leon was never a deep sleeper but when he came back exhausted he attempted to be one, and that never irritated you… Well until now.

You are not gonna get away with this Kennedy.

You place yourself at his lap, raising your hand to gently slap him- not enough to hurt but to let him know that you are there.

“Leeeooon.” You repeat the same movements, groaning since he doesn’t wake up. You stare at the clock again.

3:05 AM.

You slap him again harder and he finally reacts, squinting his eyes a little, but just before he talks, you slap him again with such a force that his head turns to his side and you are pretty sure that if it was daytime you will be able to see the red mark on his cheek.

He looks at you so shocked… Like you killed his entire family and burned them in front of him.

“Wha- What was that for?!” He finally speaks after a moment of just looking at each other.

“I don’t know… You tell me.” I talk back at him crossing your arms in your chest.

He stays silent rubbing his eyes looking at you.

“Good morning to you too.”

“It’s 3AM Leon.” You said rolling your eyes.

“Then why would wake me up? Did something happen?” He asks confused and a little concerned looking at you still shocked about the slap thing.

“Nothing happened Leon…” You reassured him. “But did you ever realized you snore a lot?”

“Snore?” He looks at his side and then at you. “I don’t snore.”

“Yes. Yes you do, and loud.” You remark the final part. “You even woke me up, I had to slap you.”

“Okay” He paused. “I am sorry love but you didn’t had to slap me.” He rubs his cheek looking at you a little offended.

“Oh believe me. I had to.” You give him a final look before laying down on the bed, your back facing him. Sighing contently you embrace your pillow. Closing your eyes feeling the sleepiness kick in.

Finally, some peaceful sleep.

“I don’t snore loud.” You heard Leon, interrupting your peaceful state.

“Whatever you say.”

…..

“Did I seriously wake you up?” He said with a softer tone this time.

Some shuffling was heard until you feel some strong arms embracing you from behind. Pressing kisses on you neck as a way to say sorry.

“Forgive me?” He whispers.

“I will think about it…”

“I can make it up to you if that’s what you want.” He says and you feel his hands under your blouse lifting it up.

“Go to sleep Leon.” You stop his wrists from going further.

“But-“

“No way you are trying to get me to do funny stuff at 3 in the morning.” You scoffed at him.

“Is it working?”

“No.”

You heard him laugh from behind and can’t help the smile that starts forming at your lips. You turn and press a delicate kiss on his lips.

“There. You are forgiven now let me sleep in peace.” You rest your head on his chest feeling to his heartbeat, somehow it calmed you down on your rougher moments- just listening to it made you feel so safe.

“Alright m’lady.” He presses a kiss on your head pulling even closer even if that was impossible.

Surely it will be a long morning, not having your enough hours of rest always affected you but seeing Leon’s face when you slapped him, you know is worth it.

Smiling you drift off to sleep.

Or that’s what you thought.

Snores.

…….

Whatever, you weren’t even planing to have a good sleep anyway.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #capcom #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy fanfic

[sailor-aviator]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Twelve

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Smut (fingering, p in v), Dirty talk, Language, Flirting, Miscommunication, Fluff, Romance, Jake being an idiot. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Wow, okay. I told myself I wasn't going to be emotional, and yet here I am. Crying. This has been such an incredible journey, y'all. This fanfic got me through my lowest this year, and to finally see it finished now that I'm in the spot that I am? I am truly without words. A special shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever who is not only my fan club president, but one of my dearest, dearest friends. I hope I continue to do justice by these two, but I know you'll be there to make sure I do! And a shoutout to @fanficfandomlove as well! Thank you for all of your support, and I'm so lucky to count you as one of my friends! Friendly reminder that I have two writing challenges going at the moment! My Christmas Challenge and my Playlist Challenge are both still taking entries! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The house was still when you entered, the afternoon light streaming through he windows and illuminating the room in such a way that it made you question reality for a moment. You clung to Jake who stood beside you, his arms strong where they were wrapped around your frame. He had almost died. You had almost been too late to save him.

You collapsed to the ground with a shuddering gasp, a sob escaping seconds later. You clasped a hand over your mouth to try and stop the noises coming from you. You had to be strong. You needed to be strong. But the sobs kept coming, wracking your body and you were vaguely aware of Jake kneeling down next to you.

“Scout,” he said gently, running a hand through your hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m safe.”

“I know,” you sobbed, reaching over to cling to him. “I know, but you almost weren’t, Jake. I almost lost you, and there would have been nothing I could have done about it.”

He was silent for a moment, letting you calm down before he continued.

“But you weren’t, sweet girl. You never gave up on me, and you made it. I’m right here with you, okay?” He cooed, helping you to your feet. He gently wiped your tears away, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead. “But if you ever pull something like that again, I will take you over my knee, do you hear me?”

You balked, pushing away to look at him. He was grinning, but there was a look of seriousness in his eyes and you began to splutter.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am, honey girl.”

“Jake Seresin,” you growled, “I just saved your life.”

He chuckled, leaning in closer to you, and you felt your cheeks warm at the proximity.

“And while I’m very thankful for that, sweetheart,” he drawled, eyes growing dark as he looked you up and down, “it doesn’t change the fact that you put yourself in danger.”

“Unbelievable,” you groused, pushing past him and towards the stairs. You made it up the first three steps before he grabbed you, causing you to let out a shriek as he threw you over his shoulder. He gave you a swat on the rear, chuckling when you yelped.

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you into trouble one day,” he murmured playfully, walking up the stairs and towards your bedroom. Once inside, he tossed you down onto the bed where you landed with a bounce. He was on you in an instant, molding his lips over yours in a kiss that you eagerly returned. The kiss was one of desperation and relief, knowing that the both of you were alive and safe and just needing to feel one another. He nipped at your bottom lip as he pulled away, chuckling when you chased after him with a whine. He placed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away once more.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He rumbled, green eyes meeting yours. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as you got lost in how dark his eyes had become. He clucked at you disapprovingly, shaking his head. “Need to hear that pretty voice of yours, honey girl. Let’s try again. Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You swallowed thickly, shifting slightly under the weight of his stare. “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He smirked. You took a steadying breath, meeting his gaze with your half hooded one.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He hummed, leaning in to steal another kiss from you. His tongue delved between your parted lips, licking languidly into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, reaching your hands up to run your fingers through the soft locks of his hair, tugging slightly. It was Jake’s turn to moan, and he pulled away, breath coming out in pants as he looked at you.

“Strip for me.”

You moved out from underneath him to stand, turning to face him as you began to undress. Jake watched you with hungry eyes as you slowly revealed yourself to him, stopping once you were standing in only your chemise. Without breaking eye contact, he moved to his feet, taking slow steps towards you. He ran his fingers over your cheekbone before cupping your jaw and kissing you once more.

“I love seeing you like this,” he whispered, voice low and gravelly. “But when I say strip, sweet girl, I mean all the way.”

Your breath hitched, eyes going wide and face heating with embarrassment. This man had seen you before, but somehow this time felt different, filled with more anticipation than nervousness like the first time. He cocked an eyebrow at you before slowly kneeling down and taking the hem of your chemise in his hands.

“Here,” he murmured, mischief in his eyes. “Let me help you.”

He slowly peeled the garment off of you, moving to stand as he did so. He pulled it gently over your head, tossing it towards the corner as he looked at you. You could practically feel the trail his eyes took as he gazed hungrily at you. He began to unbutton his own shirt, untucking it from his trousers as he gestured towards the bed.

“On the bed, Scout.”

You did as instructed, watching with hooded eyes as he stripped bare before you. Once he was finished, he crawled up the bed towards your waiting arms, meeting you in a passion filled kiss. His right hand crept up to palm at your breast, causing you to mewl into his mouth.

“Can practically smell how wet you are for me,” he growled as he pulled away, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your fingers once again found purchase in his hair, desperate for something to cling on to.

His lips left a trail down your chest until they enveloped your nipple, alternating between sucking and licking. You let out a keening cry as you arched into his mouth, hands holding his head steady.

“Feel good, sugar?” He smirked up at you, nipping at the surrounding skin. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

“Jake!” You cried, eyes clamping shut as you squirmed beneath him. He pressed more of his weight into you in a bid to keep you still, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

“You feel what you do to me, honey girl?” He murmured, moving back up to capture your lips with his. This kiss was all tongues and teeth as you bucked up into him. “Feel how hard you make me?”

“Jake, please,” you whined, eyes begging as they stared at him, letting out a gasp as he snuck a finger between the two of you to press against your slit. “Need you.”

“You have me,” he cooed, pressing his finger into you slowly, earning a high-pitched cry from you as he began to slowly pump in and out. “Let me make you feel good first.”

“Jake,” you gasped, fingers moving from his hair to his shoulders, surely leaving scratches behind. “More, please.”

He slipped another finger inside of you slick entrance, scissoring them before crooking them in search of that special spot inside of you. You cried out as he found it, stars in your eyes as you called out his name, practically wailing when his thumb circled your clit and sending shocks of pleasure through you.

“Can feel how close you are, sweet girl,” he whispered, placing chaste kisses against any piece of skin he could find. “Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. God, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock. Need you to come first, though. Come on, baby. Come for me.”

“Jakey,” you cried, the coil inside you snapping as your vision went white, a soundless scream on your lips.

Your breathing was ragged as you watched him slip his slick soaked fingers into his mouth, humming at the taste.

“Taste so good, honey girl,” he murmured as he looked at you, the greens of his eyes practically swallowed by his pupils. “Gonna taste you-”

“No,” you said breathlessly, causing him to frown. You shook your head as you fought to control your breathing. “Want you inside me. Please, Jakey.”

A grin broke out over his face at your words.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he chuckled, already moving to line himself up at your entrance. He ran his length through your folds, coating himself in your slick before slowly pushing in. You sucked in a breath as your nails dug into his shoulders, Jake groaning at the combination of pain and pleasure you were provoking in him.

“Shit, baby,” he gasped, head flying back as he continued to slide into you. “Can feel you sucking me in. So wet and tight. Shit.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist once he was fully seated inside of you. The two of you basked in the feel of finally having each other so close, the emotions of the past two days catching up with you. You didn’t even notice that tears began to fall until Jake was wiping them away, still seated inside of you.

“You okay?” He asked, eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded, cupping his face in your hand. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, nodding once more. “Need to feel you. Need you to move.”

“I’ve got you, honey girl,” he smirked, thrusting slowly into you. You gasped out, head thrown back as he built a rhythm, finding an angle that worked for the both of you.

“Always feel so good,” he groaned, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as his thrusts became harder. “So wet and warm. Always such a good girl for me, yeah? Made just for me. Love the pathetic little sounds you make as you’re creamin’ all over me. Makin’ a mess of the sheets as I ruin you.”

“Jakey,” you whined out, barely able to form a coherent thought as he rutted into you, the pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He smirked, pulling back to look at you and brushing a stray hair out of your face. “Too cock drunk to answer me? Am I makin’ you feel too good?”

He pulled out of you, and you cried at the loss. His hands landed on your hips as he flipped you onto your stomach, positioning you on your knees. A crack sounded in the room and you let out a gasp as Jake’s hand landed on your ass.

“Jake!” You exclaimed, eyes going wide as he landed a second blow to the other side. You could practically feel yourself grow wetter, and your cheeks heated with shame.

“You going to stay out of trouble from now on?” He asked lowly, kneading the flesh of your ass greedily. He landed another blow when you didn’t answer, and you jolted forward, but his hands held you in place.

“Jake, please,” you whined, pushing back against him in a bid for him to slip back inside you. He tsked before landing another light slap to the other side, soothing the sting before answering.

“You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? I can do this all day.”

Two more smacks resounded accompanying your moan of pleasure. You could feel yourself practically dripping onto the sheets below with how wet you were. Tears of frustration began to prickle at your eyes the longer he kept you like this.

“What’s this?” Jake mocked. “Is my honey girl a slut for pain?”

“Jake!”

“Answer the question, Scout.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m a slut for pain.”

Another smack landed on your ass, and your head fell forward onto your arms as you let out a sob.

“Are you going to stay out of trouble when I tell you to?”

“Yes! Yes, please Jakey!”

He hummed as he leaned back, admiring his handiwork. You were sure your ass was as red as it felt, and you hung your head in shame as his fingers ran through the slick that was running down your thighs.

“Who knew you’d love being treated this way,” he rasped, leaning in and licking a line up your slit. You cried out at the sensation, your hips surging back to seek out more. He chuckled as he ran his length through your folds once more. “Who knew the prim and proper lady from Baltimore was just a cock hungry slut. Is that what you want, sugar? You wanna be filled up, nice and full?”

“Yes,” you hissed, arching your back as the tip of his cock slipped into you. “Want you to fill me up.”

“As you wish,” he smirks, slamming back into you. His pace was relentless, hips slamming into yours with a force that nearly knocked you over. Jake gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it to guide you back until your back was flush to his chest. His hand drifted down to wrap around your neck, squeezing slightly and earning a debauched moan from you. He slowed his pace until he was gently rocking into you. He pulled your head to the side to face his, hooded gaze meeting hooded gaze.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, and you did as he said. Jake spit into your mouth, and a part of you knew you should be disgusted at how he was treating you, but another, larger, part entirely craved it.

“Swallow.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing. You opened your mouth without prompting, earning a wicked grin from the man behind you.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, one hand moving to guide your hips back onto him. “Love having you like this. I’m gonna fill you up so full, you’ll be leaking me for days to come, you hear me? Can’t wait for you to be all round and swollen with me, with our baby. Gonna keep you full for as long as you’ll let me. You like that? You want me to fill you up? To breed you?”

“Please,” you gasped, feeling the coil tighten in your belly for the second time. Jake released your throat, snaking his hand down to toy with your clit. You keened as the precipice approached, and you could feel him begin to twitch inside you.

“Need you to come for me, honey girl,” he rumbled, pace faltering as he neared his own high. “Need to feel you squeezin’ me and milkin’ me dry.”

You flew over the edge with a cry, the coil snapping once again as you came harder than you thought possible. Jake groaned behind you, hips stuttering as you felt spurts of warmth fill you, triggering another, smaller orgasm as you continued to flutter around him. Moments passed as the two of you rode out your highs, breathing slowing to a calm.

Jake slowly lowered the two of you to the bed, rolling to the side as you turned to face him. His skin shone with sweat in the afternoon sun, his hair sticking up every which way as he smiled softly at you. You were sure you looked a similar state, but you couldn’t find it in you to care as he cupped your jaw and pulled you into a slow, sweet kiss. His tongue ran gently over yours, and you sighed as you basked in the feeling of being there with him. He pulled away, but stayed close enough to nuzzle his nose with yours.

“I love you,” he murmured. You couldn’t help the grin that broke out across your face as you placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too.”

“I meant it, you know,” he started, eyes uncertain as they watched you. “I want to have a family with you. We’ll get married, and I’ll build us a new house. One where you and I can grow old together.”

“Do you promise?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. He nodded earnestly.

“I’ve never meant anything more in my entire life. Your aunt and uncle already gave me permission to marry you.”

“They did?” You asked, brow shooting up in surprise. You thought back to your trip those weeks ago. “Is that what she whispered to you before we left?”

“That?” He frowned, shaking his head. “No, they gave me permission after the first week of us bein’ there. No, Aunt Jo told me…”

“Told you what?” You pressed as he trailed off. His eyes held confusion as he shook his head.

“It didn’t make much sense, but she said ‘Adeline would approve.’”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, and tears flooded your eyes once more. Jake looked panicked as the tears began to fall.

“Scout, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” He asked frantically.

“No, not at all,” you laughed, wiping the tears away. “Adeline was my mother, Jake.”

He froze, eyes growing wide as he took in your words.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And she’s right. She would have liked you. Both of my parents would have.”

“You think?” He questioned, eyes hopeful.

“I know so.”

You sat at the bar of the saloon, head buried in your hands as you let out a frustrated sigh.

“I just don’t understand,” you said for the umpteenth time, raising your head to look at the girls that surrounded you. “Why hasn’t he proposed yet?”

“Are you two fighting about something?” Birdie asked. You shook your head.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for the right time,” Penny suggested. Nat snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Knowing him,” she started, fixing you with a look, “he’s just being an idiot.”

“You don’t think he’s changed his mind about me, do you?” You whispered, fear gripping at you at the possibility. You knew that Jake had never had any intention of marrying before you came along. Maybe he had grown tired of you? Was the thought of marriage and a life together too much for him now? Things had seemed fine between you, but you were now into spring, and still no proposal. You fidgeted with the pendant around your neck. After your reunion, Jake had been quick to put it on you, chest puffed out in pride every time he saw you wearing it, which was always.

“No!” Penny assured you, resting against the bar top. “No, that boy is smitten with you, Scout.”

“You know,” Bunny spoke, causing all eyes to turn to the usually quiet girl. “If you’re really doubting his feelings for you, maybe you should try pulling back. You know, to see if he does something.”

You were quiet for a moment as you all pondered her words.

“It could work,” Penny conceded thoughtfully. “Jake is new to this kind of relationship, and asking him directly might not work. Try it Bunny’s way and see what happens.”

You nodded, moving to leave.

“And let us know what happens!” Nat called after you, earning a chuckle.

Another week had passed, and you had effectively been avoiding Jake at every turn. Every kiss dodged, every moment alone averted, and every conversation kept to a minimum. You could tell it was driving Jake crazy, but you knew he needed to be the one to confront you. How else were you supposed to know where his mind was at? Jake was kind, and perhaps he was trying to find a way to spare your feelings? No, he needed to be the one to say something.

You were carrying a bucket of feed into the barn when someone grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall. You let out a gasp as the bucket fell from your hand with a clang, your arms trapped between yours and Jake’s chest. His hands were on either side of your head as he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. You kissed him back with fervor, hands gripping onto his shirt. You had missed this. This week had been just as hard for you as it appeared to be for him.

You shoved him away, Jake stumbling back a few steps as you attempted to calm your racing mind, the both of you panting and glaring at each other.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He growled, eyes running up and down the length of you. You swallowed thickly, straightening to your full height.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes you do,” he snapped, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “You have been dodgin’ me left and right all week, and I wanna know why.”

“Are you tired of me?” You blurted out. All anger drained from Jake’s face as it was replaced with confusion.

“What?”

“Are you tired of me?”

“Scout, that’s a stupid question,” he huffed. When you didn’t say anything, he rolled his eyes and fixed you with another glare. “No, of course I’m not. Why would you think that?”

“Then why haven’t you proposed yet?” You murmured, bottom lip wobbling as you fought to keep your composure. “It’s been weeks since everything happened, and you still haven’t asked me to marry you.”

Jake looked at you incredulously, taking the few steps until he was standing right in front of you.

“Well, shit, honey girl,” he chuckled. “I gave you the necklace, didn’t I?”

“What?” You blinked up at him.

“I gave you the necklace,” he continued, picking up the pendant and toying with it. “Figured that was as good as declaring we were gonna get married one day.”

You stared at him, his words slowly running through your head. You shoved him back again, this time following him as you slapped at his chest and shoulders.

“Ow, hey! Scout!” He hollered, grabbing your arms to stop you. Once you realized you were immobile, you stamped your foot, glaring up at him.

“Jake Seresin,” you shrieked, cheeks warm from exertion, “giving me the necklace does not equate to a proposal!”

Now it was his turn to stare. His bewildered expression melted into one of mischief and wonder as he ran his thumbs up and down your wrists.

“Alright, honey girl. You just wait. I’ll blow you away,” he smirked, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. You hummed, melting into his touch as he released your arms to wrap his own around you, swaying the two of you side to side.

“You better,” you muttered, a ghost of a smile on your lips. You felt him place a kiss to the top of your head as he held you tighter.

“How are you feelin’ now?” He asked, running a comforting hand up and down your spine as the two of you continued to sway.

“I’m happy,” you whispered, closing your eyes and pressing your ear to his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady, a sound you’d never tire of.

“Yeah,” he hummed, resting his cheek against the top of your head now. “I’m happy too.”

Coming January 2024...

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[theghoulgirl]

Keith Kogane/Reader Headcannons- Section I

For these headcanons, this is specifically for Keith after the war. Therefore, I am going to make this an 18+ post because it would be super fucking weird if someone under that age read this. This is also the first part to an (currently) endless headcannons that I have.

Otherwise, enjoy! And please feel free to comment about any challenges against them or to apply your own for others to read! 

In a friendship…

Would befriend someone who is either affiliated to the group or would be in ‘forced’ proximity with, such as work

He would connect well with someone who is a little bit of a goober, like Hunk or Lance.

Keith would also most definitely befriend a stoner and connect to them through trauma bonding

Home dude lost a lot throughout his life, he would absolutely use drugs and alcohol recreationally. 

He also connects really well with individuals who are intelligent in ways that contrast his own. 

Keith does not befriend someone based on physicality, but whether it’s on how much of an asshole you are. The less judgemental you are, the closer he will want to befriend you 

It takes a looong time to break down his walls. Before you are able to, he’s generally awkward and aloof. But once you either prove or he can see you are trustworthy, he’ll start to occasionally drop a hot piece of trauma to see your reaction to it. If you react well and don’t judge him, he’ll open up more. But if you become uncomfortable with it, he will probably keep you an arms distance away. 

Once you two are closer, most likely through quality time together (ex. Studying while he trains), he would get more and more playful with you. 

Specifically also slowly reveal more and more of his silly side. 

Poking you when he wants your attention and then pretending he didn’t poke you. Blames it on the air. 

Keith would absolutely spar with you in the kitchen using utensils 

He would occasionally crack a joke here and there as well

I also fully believe that Keith has ADHD, and if you have ADHD too, then it would just ricochet between the two of you. This would drive everyone absolutely insane. 

One moment Keith could be discussing battle plans and then you walk into the room and make a random noise, and he would repeat it back thus losing all sense of authority and seriousness. 

Eventually, as you two grow closer, Keith might also develop some feelings…

In a relationship…

He would not be the first person to confess. 

Unless someone were to give him confirmation, then he’d contemplate it. Otherwise, the other party would have to approach him 

Once y’all talk it out and are officially an item, he is going to be a little awkward and aloof again.

This man did not engage in courting behavior when he was in highschool. Sure, I’ll entertain the idea that some of his peers were infatuated with him, but he never actually pursued those relationships since he was focused on his own life problems and emotions. 

Therefore, he does not know how to flirt or how to date someone. 

But that does not mean he is not willing to try, especially for you. 

But in other news, Keith has matured with time and is an amazing communicator. 

He will let you know when he is uncomfortable with something, such as PDA. 

Speaking of PDA, he would prefer to keep most physical touches in private. 

Especially kissing.

But he does not mind holding your hand or resting his on your back

He would also let you know when he is getting nervous over not messing up the relationship. But all he needs is a little assurance that he is doing amazing and all he needs to do is be himself. 

Once he relaxes more into the relationship and gets more comfortable, he would be unabashedly affectionate towards you. In private though. Outside of seclusion ? He would mostly stick to teasing you or light touches. 

Section II coming soon!

Please also feel free to comment on more head cannons that you have! Or to give a contradicting thought!

#keith kogane/reader #keith x reader #keith/reader #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #keith voltron #vld keith #vld #voltron fanfic #voltron legendary defender #voltron

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖕𝖎𝖌𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: playful insults, teasing, mistaking attraction for hatred, foreign language (french), enemies to lovers (hinted)

w/c: 1.842

summary: when you accompany your friend noel to blue lock you did not consider that kaiser, aka the bastard’s most infamous asshole, would be there, too. luckily your favourite pastime activity was throwing french insults into his face that no one but noel could understand.

a/n: this is based on a request i got :) this isn’t really love-hate and more another ‘attraction mistaken for hatred’ buuut if you’re all nice i’ll make a second part about when they move into the love-hate stage :) also can i just note how eVIL it is to ask a german person to write about the fRENCH. we are natural enemies yall 😔😔 we meet behind a denny’s to fistfight (and kiss) whaat who said that?!?! anyways i did love this prompt despite not being able to speak french. i was able to ask my friend to give me some phrases, their credentials are *checks papers* mediocre school french 👍🏻👍🏻 so let’s just hope my friend can be trusted, if not hope kaiser being hot makes up for it! (also french people <3 if you wanna correct my french pls do 🙏🙏)

You grumbled to yourself, regarding Kaiser with a glare. Not one he could notice since he was currently standing with his back turned towards you, conversing with Ness.

“Blaireau,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing at the boy.

Noel, who was sitting next to you, let out a sigh but didn’t even raise his gaze from his clipboard to regard you with one of his typical deadpan looks.

You guessed it wasn’t necessary, he knew you well enough to know you were sitting there with a frown edged into your features and your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“So you’ve started doing it even when he’s not close enough to hear you,” he asked you.

“Pardon me?”

“Muttering insults in french. I thought you were doing it to infuriate him but I am sure you know he cannot hear you from this distance.” To emphasise his statement he lifted his hand to point towards Kaiser, who was standing several feet away fem the two of you, before returning the pen he was holding to the paper, scribbling down another number.

You wondered how Noel made sense of it all. Keeping track of the stats of all the new team additions and transferring these numbers into percentages. What those percentages exactly meant you were unsure about. All you knew was that your friend spent a lot of time on them.

You sighed, trying your best not to glare at Kaiser again as you turned to look towards him. You failed.

“Infuriating him is only an added benefit. I do enjoy just insulting him for the sake of it.”

“I see.” Although Noel sounded unimpressed you could tell he would lose his patience with this little thing you and Kaiser had going on, sooner or later.

Especially if it would end up distracting the boy from soccer, not that you thought that was ever possible. Kaiser would rather ignore you for the rest of his life than endanger his soccer career.

You turned towards Noel again and let out a dramatic sigh. Time to make this predicament you were in known to him once more.

“Noel, i need you to look me in the eyes and tell me Kaiser isn’t one of the most annoying assholes you’ve ever met.” You challenged him, lowering your voice as to not catch the attention of any of the boys standing nearby.

The corner of Noel’s lips twitched up at your frustrated tone. Almost like he didn’t take you seriously. You frowned. Rude. This matter was dead serious.

“He doesn’t know how to behave. I trust you to be the mature one. Unless you want me to get you thrown out of this building. You’re only here because i consider you a dear friend, don’t forget that.”

You gasped, offended at the insinuation he’d be willing to throw you out, his best friend, in favour of keeping Kaiser’s ego intact. It was true that you were only allowed to accompany him to ‘Blue Lock’ because he had requested your presence, seeing as you were his best friend. You needed to emphasise that because ‘dear friend’? Yeah right. He wouldn’t know what to do without you. He’d certainly lose his mind.

“You wouldn't. You need me. My presence is precious to you,” you insisted, digging your finger into his arm, not unkindly. “But okay, I promise to behave since Kaiser is clearly not able to.”

You thought offering this was extremely kind of you since it was Kaiser who needed to learn some manners, not you. You were extremely well behaved.

“Aww you’re quite obsessed with me, aren’t you, darling?”

Your blood turned cold. When you turned your head back forward you were met with the sight of none other than Michael Kaiser standing only three feet in front of you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Casse-toi, Kaiser.” You cursed before you were able to stop yourself.

Kaiser’s grin grew. Noel let out a sigh next to you.

“You promised,” He reminded you and looked up from the clipboard to regard you with a pointed look. “Please, Y/n.”

“It’s not my fault. He’s started it!” You gasped, pointing at Kaiser childishly.

He laughed, waving his hand.

“I just came to say hello after hearing my name come out of your mouth so often. I was afraid you’d wither away without my attention.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, his innocent smile fooling no one.

Your jaw ticked and before you knew it you had risen to your feet and stomped forward to close the remaining distance between you two to start cursing him out in french.

To your growing anger Kaiser took it in stride, cocking his head at you and listening with interest as you threw insult after insult at his head before Noel apparently had enough of you. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you back telling you to sit back down and ignore Kaiser. He sounded exhausted.

Easier said than done. Kaiser’s whole nature demanded attention. It was impossible to ignore him. But you had promised Noa you’d behave, so you guessed you should at least try.

“T’es chiant!” you snapped at Kaiser, seeing this as the end of your fight, before you let Noel pull you down into the seat.

Noel gave you another pointed look before his gaze shifted back to Kaiser who was watching your interaction with amusement though there was a dark edge to his gaze that wasn’t there before.

“You’re not done with your training, yet, are you?” Noel asked Kaiser

The boy grinned and gave a halfhearted shrug.

“I’m taking a break.”

“Take it somewhere else,” you bit out, feeling Noel’s disapproving glare burn into the side of your face.

You were trying!

“I prefer your lovely company over the one of the common folk,” Kaiser replied easily, waving his hand in the general direction of where you saw the boys of the ‘Blue Lock’ project talk.

Kaiser didn’t like them much, especially Isagi, who has already declared war on him in a very dramatic way that had you questioned the boy’s mental health. Like really, was the boy okay? Talking about devouring people and ruining their life and all.

At least Isagi managed to infuriate Kaiser in a way that no one else was able to. Of course, this meant that you did like Isagi if only because he actually managed to get under the boy’s skin. Unlike you. Kaiser never seemed impressed when you threw french insults into his face, no, it was the complete opposite. He seemed to love it. He seemed to bash in your attention. This only made you angrier.

Entitled jerk.

Maybe you’d just have to take your ‘lovely company’ to Isagi and his friends the next time you saw Kaiser coming your way. That would keep him away.

“They’re not common folk and you’re not an emperor, Kaiser, at best you’re the roi des cons,” you fired back, regarding him with an unamused look.

Nowl let out another sigh, though you thought it was quite a clever word of play. He just didn’t know how to appreciate it or you for the matter.

Kaiser hummed, taking a few steps forward and lowering his head. His gaze was intense as he fixed yours behind the curtains of his hair that fell into his face. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the sudden air of seriousness surrounding him.

“Is that a new petname, my love? How precious.” His voice was low and smooth and it took you a second to process his words.

When you did you felt your cheeks explode in heat and you had half a mind to jump up and wrestle Kaiser to the ground if it wasn’t for Noel’s hand grabbing the back of your jacket and pulling you down again.

“Stop provoking them and go back to your training, Kaiser.”

Kaiser just snickered, eyes twinkling with mirth as he took in your red face and the snarl on your lips.

“Don’t miss me too much, i’ll be back in a bit,” he mocked with a grin that reached his eyes but still didn’t look genuine.

He turned around to walk away.

“Va te faire enculer!” You called after him but he just laughed and waved his hand at you without turning back.

You huffed and sunk back in your seat, arms crossed in front of your chest as you pouted. You fucking hated that guy.

Noa watched you quietly for a moment before he shook his head and moved to stand up, pushing his clipboard into your hands for you to hold.

“Your taste in men is horrible,” he told you as nonchalantly as one would discuss the weather before shrugging out of his tracksuit jacket and throwing it on the chair he’s been sitting in.

You shot up, shrieking. “Excuse me?”

A few boys close-by turned to stare at you and you ducked your head in embarrassment at your out-lash but you couldn’t believe the words that had just left your friend’s mouth.

“Kaiser is bad news. You can do better than him.”

You gasped at him, cheeks burning from embarrassment. Where did that just come from? Was he seriously insinuating that you? And Kaiser?

“I’m not- You’re- I-” You stuttered, your heart racing in your chest.

This was- You couldn’t believe this!

Noel rolled his eyes and gently pried the clipboard out of your eyes, levelling you with a calm look.

“If you want to deny it, go ahead. But either way stop pulling Kaiser’s metaphorical pigtails already, it’s exhausting.”

He gave you a gentle clap on the shoulder and a small smile, before walking off towards the direction of the ‘Blue Lock’ boys. You stared after him, your face hot and your mouth agape.

You weren’t-

You and Kaiser? That was ridiculous. Absolutely impossible. You would never, not in a billion years, be attracted to him. He was such an asshole. A complete jerk. Completely infuriating. Why would Noel even think that?

You huffed again, shoulders bunching up as you tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Noel had no idea what he was talking about. What did he even know about romance? Nothing. That’s right!

You lifted your gaze and- You froze when your eyes locked with Kaiser’s. He was standing on the other end of the field, football secured under his arm. He was watching you intensely. From this far away it was hard to make out the look in his eyes but you felt a shiver rake down your spine and the itch on your tongue.

You gave him the middle finger, biting your tongue to not throw another insult his way as you would have had to shout it over the whole field. When the boy did nothing but laugh and blow you a kiss, you quickly turned away. The heat in your cheeks never fading.

Noel was wrong. You did not have a crush on Kaiser. You did not.

Not even a little.

translations:

Blaireau — Asshole

Casse-toi — Fuck off

T’es chiant — You’re annoying

Roi des cons — Complete idiot/King of idiots

Va te faire enculer — Go fuck yourself

#michael kaiser #bllk #blue lock #michaek kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #kaiser oneshot #bllk oneshot #bllk x reader #kaiser blue lock #blue lock oneshot #blue lock x reader

[undiscovered-horizon]

🙌🙌🙌🙌 Just read the one you did for me and holy shit, you are such a good writer 😭❤❤ now if it is okay I am going to do angst or on the verge of angst. One with the ragnarsson family ( both female and Male, maybe even ragnars brother if that is okay?). Their reaction if you got seriously injured maybe even dies when they left their house/town for like an raid??? ❤❤❤

Vikings preference: You get injured while they're gone

Ragnar On the outside, he appears relatively calm and collected, asking you what exactly happened. Once he makes sure you're alright in general terms, he goes out to search for whoever did this to you. Tells them that if they have a dispute with him, they could have simply talked to him but now that they have committed to a violent way, Ragnar challenges them to a duel. Fairly obviously, he wins but decides to spare the offender and instead of taking their life, he takes one of their limbs. Having children with him wouldn't really influence his actions, only the severity of his anger and the damage he does to the culprit.

Bjorn He's seething. Bjorn is very well aware that because of who he is, there are many people out there who don't need any more reason beyond that to spill blood. Apparently, if they can't spill his, yours is just fine. His method of solving the problem is finding whoever did this to you, dragging them out of their house, making a huge scene with an exalted speech, only to kill them in one strike in the end. Until you're alright, and he's very sceptical about your assurance, he visits you during the day but never lingers for too long. Bjorn think he should be out there to catch any scheme in the making. If you have a son of age, Bjorn will take his anger out on him partially: the boy was, after all, told to look after you when his father can't. But if you have smaller children, he's definitely not letting them out of his sight for the next month or so. Also prohibits them from spending time with strangers, just in case.

Ubbe Being a prince, part of him expected something like this to happen, so he's not exactly surprised but still, he thought people had more respect towards him and his family. No matter the severity of your injury, he's off to have a 'stern talk' with the offender, which means more or less that he's going to beat them within an inch of their life while making very believable threats of what happens should they try something like that again. Until you get better, only Ragnarok itself can force him to leave your side. But if you have children, the scale is tipped instantaneously and he's not afraid to decrease the population of Kattegat. He's very family-oriented, so a threat towards his offspring is a threat towards him personally.

Hvitserk Grabs Ubbe to get the problem 'sorted out' which comes down to Ubbe holding down the culprit and Hvitserk going absolutely berserk on them. If anyone asks, neither of them knows what happened. Suspiciously, the culprit themself doesn't speak up about how they got beaten nearly to death. Despite the suspicious obliviousness, everyone and anyone who once wished ill will on you are having second thoughts. If you have old enough children, he considers that 'incident' a sign to start teaching them to fight.

Sigurd More baffled than angry. Out of all the Ragnarsons, he's the least notorious, so why in Gods' names did someone specifically go after you? He figures that the offence wasn't really aimed at him but rather at his entire family and the culprit went for whoever was the easiest target. Which doesn't really make him feel any better: you got seriously hurt by random chance, only because you decided to settle down with him and you, apparently, were at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Depending on how severe your injuries are, he's willing to ask Ubbe and Hvitserk to join him in going after the culprit. After that is dealt with, he begins seriously considering moving away from Kattegat. If you have children, he both decides it's time to teach them to fight but if you have a son, he's going to get the short end of the stick: Sigurd will constantly remind him that when he's gone, it's your son's responsibility to defend you.

Ivar He may be a deranged individual but he's not stupid, so he doesn't storm off to fight the offender in a duel - Ivar knows his chances are slim at best. So he thinks of a perfect ruse, something that would lure the culprit into their own demise. It, quite obviously, ends up working and all of Kattegat gets to marvel at his horrendous and yet impressive genius. Whoever dared to raise their hand against you is not publicly begging for death as some of the bravest men around grimace in disgust. The message to his enemies should be considered received. For most of his life, he was quite convinced he couldn't have children so when he finally has them, he's horribly protective of them. And that means his ruse becomes slightly more unhinged.

Aslaug She can't retaliate in an equally violent way but that doesn't really matter - she has her own way of making life Hell for the offender. Aslaug exiles them publically, making sure that all of Kattegat heard about their wrongdoings. As a queen, she can go even a step further and ensure that all of Norway knows what they had done and no family or jarl will ever give them shelter.

Lagertha Publicly promises to kill them but not before a fair trial. It's not really about justice but rubbing their punishment in - in other words, she follows the way of the Gods to make sure that the culprit goes through absolute torture in this life and the next one. Once the verdict is announced, she spares no time in driving her sword through their chest. Similarly to Ragnar, having children doesn't really influence her choice of actions but only how much anger she expresses and the unsavoury language she uses.

#vikings series #vikings ragnar #viking bjorn #vikings tv series #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings headcanon #vikings imagine #vikings ubbe #vikings sigurd #vikings hvitserk #vikings ivar #history vikings #vikings fic #vikings x reader #vikings x you #vikings fandom #vikings preference

[orangeaurora]

Steve Harringon | Drunken Encounters

masterlist

Summary: You just can’t seem to hold your liquor correctly and your best friend Eddie Munson is just too out of it to help you. Steve Harrington notices your wobbly walk and can’t help but to grab your arm to help hold you steady. Just some fluff.

Word count: 1367

Warnings: Cussing, emetophobia (no throwing up, just gagging and feeling sick.), talking about being drunk, talking about being high, uhhhh I think that’s it.

Author’s note: hehehehehe I hope you like this one. I haven’t written in a while so BARE WITH ME. lemme know what you thiiiiink. okay thanks, happy reading. ;) also perhapppsss ill make a part two??? idk yet.

It was a late night of drinking at none other than King Steve Harrington’s house. You don’t quite know what possessed you to show up to this party, knowing damn well that the sight of Steve makes you gag, but it was finals week and this was the best way to take the edge off. A few hours into the night after being way too sober, you find yourself tapping your foot against the floor, eyes wandering and decide to get yourself another drink. “Hey, Eds.” You shake eddie’s shoulder to try and get his attention but Eddie was already out of it for the night. High as a kite.

Eddie shakes you off of him which makes you roll your eyes and sigh as you stand up off of the couch you two were sprawled out on and make your way to the kitchen. On the counter there is an absolute mess of alcohol to choose from. You sigh and pick up a few trying to decide what would be the easiest to choke down. “Disgusting.” You whisper to yourself as you pick up a bottle of straight vodka.

“Hating on the choices, are you?” You hear a voice say from behind you which makes you roll your eyes. Steve. “You have horrible taste.” You say with a small smile. Okay maybe I am a little drunk already, you think to yourself as you allow your smile to fade away quickly.

“Too pussy to take a shot of vodka?” Steve asks jokingly. Your eyes narrow as you look at him and then the bottle. “Oh is that a challenge?” A small chuckle leaves your lips as you speak before Steve grabs the bottle from your hand, your fingertips gliding against one another’s for only a second. Your eyes never leave his face.

Steve pours two shots for you guys and says a small “cheers” before choking back the hot liquid. To your own demise, you gag slightly and Steve laughs. “Oh come on, seriously?!” He says still slightly laughing at you.

“You can’t look me in the face and tell me that that’s not disgusting??” You say as you wipe the remnants of the liquid off of your lips and notice Steve staring. “Okay your turn. Pick one.” He says as he waves his hand towards the other alcohol.

As you overlook the liquor in front of you, Steve can’t help but look at you. He’s never really talked to you like this before since you always seem to immediately shut him down. He likes you. He’d never admit it to anyone, especially himself, but he likes you.

“Okay, this one.” You say as you start pouring two shots of fireball. “Bold choice.” Steve says confusingly as he watches you pour the shots. Steve puts his in the air for a cheers, “to new friends?” He bites his lip nervously. “Don’t push it, Harrington.” You say as a smile accidentally creeps up onto your lips. You both shoot the hot liquor and surprisingly, you don’t gag. You actually kind of like it. “Mmm…” you say under your breath as you finish the shot.

“Yeah? That one better?” Steve asks you. His voice sounds like honey as he speaks after taking the spicy shot. “Much.” You say as your nose scrunches up.

“Here.” Steve says as he mixes you a drink with the fireball in it. “It’ll definitely take the edge off.” You take the cup from him, your fingers touching softly once again. “Thanks…” you say, a bit confused by this conversation with him. Someone you never felt you’d ever get along with. “I’m gonna go, uh, find Eddie. Nice chat…Harrington.” You turn around and curse at yourself for being so awkward. Is it the alcohol finally kicking in or is Steve Harrington actually… attractive?

As you sip on the drink Steve made you, you slowly start to notice the effects the alcohol is having on you. Having a dealer as a best friend means your usual choice at a party would be weed, which evidently made you a lightweight with alcohol. As people dance around the house and play drinking games around you, you find your vision growing blurry and can’t quite think straight. You try to shake Eddie awake again but he’s still out of it.

“Shit…” you whisper to yourself as you stand up off of the couch but it seems like gravity wants to pull you right back down.

You finally catch your balance and start to make your way into the kitchen for some water but it seems like it’s miles away. Your body is just not functioning correctly. As you are about to fall over, a pair of hands find your arm, balancing you. You hum slightly as you look over at the person who caught you. “You againnnn?” You groan in your drunken state when you notice it’s Steve. “I think I just saved your life, so maybe be more thankful, yeah?” He says jokingly with a laugh as he strengthens his grip on you to ensure you stand up straight.

You giggle, “What a humble soul you are, Steve Harrington.” You pull your face slightly in towards his, your drunken eyes scanning all over his slightly sober, caramel ones.

“I don’t… feel good.” You say honestly in broken words as Steve starts walking you somewhere. “Yeah I can see that, come on.” He pulls you into the bathroom near the kitchen and locks the door. “Sit on the cold tile, it’ll help.” He says softly as he helps you slowly sit on the floor. “I’ll go get you some water, stay put.”

Steve quickly rushes out of the room and you’re left on the bathroom floor being the most confused you’ve ever felt in your life. Is this real? No. This must be some drunk dream. Are drunk dreams a thing? You laugh to yourself on the floor, everything in the room spinning around you.

When Steve walks in, he sees the giggly expression on your face and cracks open the water bottle he brought you. “Oh great, she’s gone crazy.” He says with a laugh as he sits on the floor with you, handing you the water. A quiet, “Thanks…” leaves your lips as you lean your head against the wall, Steve sitting criss crossed in front of you.

“Does it always feel this horrible?” You ask with a pout.

“No. Just sometimes. Do you need any food?”

Just the thought of food makes you gag. “Sorry… no, definitely not food.” You say. The world won’t stop spinning and you feel sicker and sicker every second that passes.

“It’s okay. We can just sit here until you feel better.” Steve smiles at you and you feel the world stop spinning for only a second.

“You’re a mystery to me, Steve Harrington.” You match the smile on his face.

“Good.” Steve says as he puts the water bottle back in your hand. “Sober up quickly. I just know sober you would never be here with me right now.”

This takes you aback. Even in your drunken state. “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” Your broken words come out slowly as you sip on the water.

Steve laughs as he runs his hand through his hair. Butterflies. You shake your head at your thoughts.

“I don’t think you like me very much.” He looks at you still smiling, but his tone is slightly different than usual.

“That’s not true.” Your face contours into a pout. You’re so drunk you can’t even try to think about how to respond. “I-I like you… you’re, cool, I guess.” You shrug your shoulders. Steve laughs again.

“Okay, maybe not a conversation for you to have right now.” He says as he stands up and grabs some anti nausea pills from the medicine cabinet. “Try and swallow these. You’ll feel a lot better, I promise.”

You nod and take them quickly so you don’t make yourself more sick. “You’re a good person, Steve Harrington. I don’t know why I’ve never seen it before.”

Steve squats down to your level and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Maybe I can show you when you’re sober, too.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x you

[schvmacher47]

venus | oscar piastri (preview II)

1 | quick pause in conversation (preview word count: 2054, total word count: 4044)

»Maybe it wasn't boiling enough… Maybe I just have no talent… I think this might be the biggest issue here«, Oscar mumbled. His body language was very much giving signs of early defeat, as if he’d already accepted his fate, when Robert went and whispered something into his ear. I couldn’t quite make out what Robert said, but I was pretty sure it was something along the lines of ‘You’re so doing this on purpose, I know you’re not that bad…’.

»There’s microphones on!«, Oscar exclaimed and looked straight into the camera, or more like behind the camera, to see if anyone of us heard what was being said.

»They’re not listening«, Robert reassured him and grinned knowingly. Sure, nobody was listening…

»So let’s try this again«, Oscar said. »I’m sticking to the ‘no swirling’ technique«, he added and immediately put the second raw egg into the boiling water.

»This one’s even worse!« He sounded very disappointed, especially as he watched Robert attempt and then succeed the challenge with his second try.

»That one’s actually pretty good!«, Oscar exclaimed, as he inspected Robert’s attempt. Robert started celebrating, being very sure of his second victory in a row. »He actually did a good job on that…«

»Did I split the yolk? Maybe… Is that a problem? No…«, Oscar mumbled with a wry grin on his lips, as he took out his mishap of a poached egg. Both he and Robert erupted into a fit of a full body laughter, as they inspected the poached egg. »And to think this was my best bet–«, Oscar laughed, as he presented his rock solid poached egg to the camera. I chuckled, innerly thanking God for choosing to make Oscar a racing driver and not a cook. 

»I bet Kaia is very impressed by your cooking skills!«, Robert said, laughing.

»Oh I sure am!«, I grinned, but also started laughing. Their laughter was simply too infectious to not join in.

Robert’s egg was the definition of a perfect poached egg, the yolk was still runny, when he cut the egg open. Both he and Oscar went to try the poached egg and were visibly impressed by how good it was. 

»You seriously have to try it!«, Robert said and waved me over to the kitchenette.

»Are you sure you don’t want to poison me?«, I joked, but still got up and left my spot behind the camera, to take the fork loaded with bits of the egg, which Oscar held out to me.

»Poison you? I don’t think we’re that bad…«

»That’s why your egg is rock solid… but sure, you’re not that bad«, I grinned, as I finally took the fork from Oscar, our fingers brushing as he passed it to me. 

I inspected the egg one last time, for safety reasons, before I got over myself and gave it a try.

»Yeah, Robert definitely wins this round… Without a doubt, which also means I get the honour of driving you to the airport…«, I grumbled, giving Oscar my best deathglare, to which he only raised his hands in surrender, as if he were rejecting all blame. »Just to warn you now, I get to choose the songs we’re going to listen to. Capito? My car, my rules«, I playfully said.

»Yeah, whatever, as long as I’m getting to the airport, that’s fine with me…«

Oscar did end up winning the fried egg, but over easy challenge, but it didn’t change a thing about Robert’s overall win. As soon as the cameras were off, Robert put on that mischievous grin again.

»Well, I guess you’ll be having the honour of driving Mr. I don’t get rental cars to the airport. Please do my car rides justice and don’t be too nice«, he said, a big grin playing on his lips.

»I’ll make sure he’ll still get the Robert experience,« I chuckled, as I started packing up the camera equipment.

»I know that’s not gonna happen because you’re most definitely not as reckless of a driver as Robert. So that’s a relief for me because I for once won’t be carsick.«, Oscar said, getting rid of his apron and chef hat.

»On the expense of my dinner, thank you very much«, I joked.

»Now you’re making me feel bad…«, he mumbled as he helped me clean up the kitchen.

»If I remember correctly you’re the one who lost the challenge, so I think that’s deserved.«

»Evil!«

***

»Do you have everything?«, I asked Oscar as I grabbed my bag and car keys. 

»Yes!«

»Are you sure?, I asked again, making sure we wouldn’t have to turn around. I remembered all the countless times Robert had to turn around because Oscar forgot something. At this point, the only important thing he didn’t leave behind was his phone. I hoped I didn’t just jinx it… If his head wasn’t permanently attached to his body, there would’ve been a great chance of him losing it somewhere around the world.

»Yes«, he confirmed as he pushed his suitcase to the main entrance. I quickly grabbed a water bottle from the minifridge before I followed him to the main hall. Oscar had already brought his luggage outside and was waiting for me to unlock the car.

As I stepped outside, the crisp evening air sent shivers down my spine. The sky was painted in beautiful hues of oranges and pinks, as the sun began its descent. I unlocked the car and opened the trunk for Oscar to put his, multiple weeks worth, of luggage into it.

»Buckle up, you’re in for the ride of your life!«, I told him as I got into the driver’s seat. I connected my phone to the car’s bluetooth and chose a playlist as Oscar also got into the car. The first notes of ‘Red’ by Taylor Swift sounded softly from the sound system as I pulled out of the car park. Loving him was like driving a new maserati down a dead-end street.

»As long as we don’t end up in a dead-end street, that’s fine with me«, Oscar said, a knowing smile resting on his lips as he made himself comfortable. It took a minute for my brain to process the ambiguity of his words. He for sure knew how to use his words, how to send my brain cells into a frenzy. Still waters could run deep. Very deep. 

»Are you questioning my abilities right now?«, 

»I would never!«

»You better not, since you’re relying on my abilities right now…«, I said, grinning as I drove onto the carriageway. 

»I promise I won’t complain«, he said. »This is definitely an upgrade, came here thinking I was going to have to deal with Robert’s horrendous driving, but got an unexpected upgrade to first class.«

»As if you didn’t lose on purpose to get this upgrade, let’s be honest.«, I stated, quickly glancing over to him. He shook his head, but had a knowing grin on his lips. He of course did it on purpose.

»I would never!«, he repeated his statement from before.

»Yeah, as if I’d believe you… Just say it, you enjoy my company.«

»I thought that was obvious…«

»No shit Sherlock, it was obvious from the moment where you all of the sudden forgot how to boil an egg to get me to drive you to the airport«, I joked.

»So where’s the problem?«

»I don’t know, you tell me?«, I asked, grinning.

There was a quick pause in conversation, we fell into a comfortable silence, as I focused on the traffic ahead and Oscar was doing God knows what. Probably just staring out of the window for most of the time. 

At some point, I turned the music up. I felt the need to fill the void with some background noise. A few songs in, which I classified as my ‘warm up’, I started humming along to One Direction’s ‘No Control’. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Oscar glancing over at me. A grin spread across my lips. Oh, he had no idea of what he was going to witness. I wiggled in my seat, as I started to sing along to the last lines of the first verse. The One Direction carpool  karaoke video was my roman empire, the choreography to No Control was engraved into every single one of my brain cells and everytime that song popped up in my playlist, I couldn’t help but dance along.

Oscar chuckled softly next to me, shaking his head in amusement as I belted out the lyrics. Once the chorus hit, the last bit of self-control left my body and my hands left the steering wheel to do the choreo justice. I was challenging my inner Harry Styles. I literally had no control.

»First of all, I would very much appreciate it, if you would keep your hands on the steering wheel and focus on the street head…«, Oscar mumbled, a terrified expression resting on his facial features as he watched my impromptu performance. »Secondly, I sometimes wonder if your mothertongue really is English or you’re just fucking with me…«

»Why?«, I asked, once the chorus was over.

»The way you sing these songs with so much confidence really has me questioning if you know what you’re singing about«, Oscar chuckled. I raised an eyebrow. He thought this was bad? I made a mental note to introduce him to Zara Larsson’s music in the future.

»This isn’t even the worst one…«, I said, grinning as I continued to bob my head to the beat.

»There’s worse?« I just nodded in amusement and watched him shake his head.

»Could you take the next exit please?«, Oscar asked, when we were halfway through our journey to the airport.

»Why, do you need to use the toilet?«

»Just do it, okay?«, he practically begged me as we approached the exit he was talking about. It was a service station area that even accommodated smaller versions of supermarkets. I sighed and moved over into the exit lane, slowing down as I reached the parking lot.

»I’ll be quick«, Oscar said, as he got out of the car. He rushed over to one of the service points, but then disappeared behind a passing truck. As I waited for Oscar to come back, I decided to also open my door and stretch my legs out of the car. I reached for the water bottle that I’d placed behind my seat, and opened it to take a few refreshing sips. 

A few minutes later, I saw Oscar coming back. He was carrying a brown paper bag, seemingly from one of those supermarkets. I raised an eyebrow when he opened the door and flopped down on the passenger’s seat. 

»Why are you looking at me like that?«, he asked and fastened his seatbelt again. 

»I thought you had to use the bathroom?«, I asked, tilting my head in confusion.

»I lied, my bladder is not that weak –«

»Funny coming from you, when you have to go to the toilet right before getting in your race car, but sure, go on«, I chuckled, earning a death glare from Oscar.

»If you’d let me finish, you’d know the reason why I lied«, he stated. »I felt bad, when you said you still had to go grocery shopping and since I am basically the reason for you not having a proper dinner tonight, I got you something…«, he mumbled and pointed to the brown paper bag. I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his thoughtfulness. 

»You did what?« He didn’t even acknowledge my question, instead he put the bag on his lap and reached into it.

»I got you dinner.«, he said, pulling out what looked like a big salad bowl, bread and a bar of chocolate. »Consider it a thank you for driving me to the airport.« I couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief.

»You didn’t have to do that«, I mumbled. I was at a loss for words. »Thank you…«, I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. »I really appreciate it.«

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #f1 oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #f1 x you #oscar piastri x female reader #best friends to lovers

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Anything But Love Part 2

AN: Hello my loves! First, I’m gonna apologize for disrespecting the sanctity of democracy, I hope you all can forgive me maybe. Love for Duties Sake Part 5 is still 150% coming, I’m just trying to be a good person, and A. Not make it a book. And B. Actually give them some peace for once in their lives (spoiler alert it’s not going well)  SO yeah here's this gem of a story while I work on that, Shuri is once again a brat but maybe just maybe she doesn't actually mean to be a brat? Idk crazy idea. Y’all asked for Y/N to have a little bit of bite to her, I hope I did that lol. Blame two of your favorites on here for this coming out this morning instead of last night-

As always this is dedicated to the lovely @pinkwright, I simply exist to write fake dating for them.

Summary: Being the head of PR for the Udaku family came with its challenges. But staying on top of public perception and answering to elders paled in comparison to your most formidable challenge, dealing with the princess.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, like BREIF mentions of sexual elements. that’s it I think.

Word count: 4,658

Masterlist.  Taglist.  Part 1.

Suggested listening: Bitches Broken Hearts - Billie Ellish 

“You can pretend you don't miss me (me) You can pretend you don't care All you wanna do is kiss me (me) Oh, what a shame I'm not there.”

“And again! One, two, three, four dip! One, two, three, four, turn!”

The feeling of Shuri’s foot coming down on yours had you pulling your hand from hers, a loud “Ow!” spewing from your lips. 

“I wouldn’t have stepped on your foot if you had it in the right place.” Shuri looked down at you smugly as you rubbed your foot. 

“Well maybe if you hadn’t skipped the first step, I wouldn’t be confused as to where we were at.” You glared up at her, wanting nothing more than to shoot up from your position on the floor and wipe that smug look off her face.

“Are you two really not over your issues, seriously? Mama gave you both a week, I thought you would have settled this by now.” T’Challa’s voice, while slightly annoying at this exact moment, was still right. 

Queen Ramonda had given both you and Shuri a week to come to some sort of acceptance of the deal you both agreed to. Banning Shuri from entering her lab and you from your office, she hoped the time away from work would give you both some clarity about the situation, leading to you putting your childish bickering to the side and finally working together again.

While this all sounded good on paper, the time away from your safe spaces seemed to leave the two of you more irritable than before. Shuri’s attitude is on full display and your patience running dangerously low. Luckily, once she noticed this the Queen called in the one favor she had left, hoping maybe she could talk sense into the two of you before it was too late. But until she showed up under the Queen’s strict orders T’Challa was to teach you and Shuri the waltz. 

“The only issue I have is that she cannot follow directions! I am supposed to be leading her in this dance yet every move she makes is contradictory to the one I have made. I step left, and she goes right. I take two steps forward, and she takes two backward. How am I to lead someone as stubborn as Y/N?” Shuri folded her arms over her chest, no longer giving you the satisfaction of looking in your direction once she finished her array of insults. Classy. 

You rose from where you had been sitting checking your foot. Where Shuri may have beaten you in height, you had her in pure intimidation. Shuri was all bark and no bite and the minute you really mouthed off back to her, she faltered. “Maybe if I had a good leader, someone who I trust to lead, maybe then I’d have no problem following them. But when she can’t even remember the order of simple steps to a waltz, how am I supposed to want to follow her mkhuluwe? (brother)” 

T’Challa tried to answer and de-escalate the situation but his sister's fiery attitude stopped him. 

“I find your continual suggesting that I am an unfit leader to be disrespectful Y/N.” Shuri took a step closer to you, looking down at you through the curls that had fallen into her face. “Some would even say what you’re suggesting is treason. Are you committing treason against the Princess?” The tone in her voice was cocky, like a cat playing with her food. What you said was not treason, you knew it, she knew it, T’Challa knew it, and everyone else in the room knew it. But still, she chose to pull rank on you, a subtle reminder that you two were not acting off of an even playing field. Another low blow. 

“You know I almost wish what I said was treason worthy Shuri, I’d gladly take whatever punishment that brings over having to continue this charade with you.” You chuckled softly. “Fifty years of solitary confinement, I think I’ll take my chances.” 

The young Princess’s fists balled and the next smart remark was just about to leave her lips when another voice cut in. One that wasn’t yours, hers, or T’Challa’s. 

“Bast! You both still fight like children!” You and Shuri both whipped around to see Nakia leaning up against the ballroom wall behind you. The sight of her had your feet moving faster than your brain could process, leading you right into Nakia’s arms. She let out a groan when your body connected with hers, squeezing you tightly. “Well hello to you too, usisi omncinci (little sister).” 

“I didn’t know you’d be here so early.” You still hadn’t removed yourself from Nakia’s body as you spoke. 

“Well, clearly she is,” Shuri’s slick remark rang out before Nakia could speak. “Now move, you’re not the only one who has missed her.” 

With reluctance, you peeled your body off of Nakia’s to allow Shuri to hug her. As you watched the two embrace you were brought back to your childhood, Nakia’s family being the other one that you lived with when you weren't in the palace. She had taught you everything you knew about being an adult and your eagerness at her return was no different now than it was when you were younger. 

When Shuri finally finished she stepped back next to you, leaving T’Challa as the only one who hadn’t greeted Nakia yet. 

“Hi.” He said sheepishly as he stepped up into his girlfriend's space. Nakia smiled fondly at him, holding her hands out for T’Challa to take. 

“Hi.”

“You did not tell me you were coming back.” T’Challa’s hands rubbed idly at Nakia’s knuckles, memorizing the feeling of her skin under his. These moments between the two of them were rare, Nakia busy with her war dog duties and T’Challa with his kingly responsibilities. 

“Mm, I wasn’t supposed to be back this early but, Queen Mother called.” Nakia took her hand and cupped T’Challa’s cheek, rubbing gently on his soft skin before placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “And, I missed you mtuwam (my person).”  

The sight of the two lovers made you smile and that same smile stayed on your face as you backed away to give them some privacy. Of course however when in the presence of the Princess such a smile can only last for so long. The sight of her staring at you in disgust had you rolling your eyes at her. “What is your problem? Is your heart so cold that you can’t appreciate a couple in love?” 

Shuri let out a dry laugh. “No, I adore my brother and Nakia, she makes him significantly less lame. It is your reaction that I don’t believe.” 

“What? I am a lover of love. A certified lover girl like Drake said. Especially true love like that.” 

“Mhm if that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, but that’s not what I have heard.” Shuri dismissed herself from the ballroom, seeing no need to continue the dance lesson now that T’Challa was occupied.

You followed hot on her trail, what the hell had she “heard” about you that could make her of the opinion that you weren't a lover of love. It was blasphemy honestly, defamation of character. 

“Shuri!” You grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop in her tracks. She tried to pull out of your grasp, expecting to overpower you easily. What she didn’t account for though was your newfound muscle from training with Ayo, rendering her attempts unsuccessful. 

“Let me go.” She still hadn’t turned to face you, to you this seemed like disrespect, another time Shuri couldn’t even give you the decency to look at you. But internally, Shuri’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed the feeling of you touching her skin. Holding hands to dance was one thing but the way you held tightly onto her now felt like a security blanket, holding her down to earth. 

“What are you talking about? What did you hear?” 

Shuri tried to pull her arm again to no avail, taking a deep breath, she turned and faced you. “When I tell you, you’ll remove your grabby hands from my wrist, yes?” 

You roll your eyes at her use of the word grabby, this was a tactic you two would use often as kids and she never had a problem with it then. “Yes, if you tell me what you’re talking about, I’ll let you go.” 

The Princess looked you up and down as she debated how to spill this information. “All I’m saying is I find it hard to believe that you are a lover girl when you so clearly have shown that you’re the opposite.” 

That got you to loosen your hold on Shuri’s wrist just enough for her to pull away, her heart finally steadying. But to your surprise, she didn’t leave, rather staying and standing in front of you almost waiting for your questions. 

“Explain what you’re talking about right now!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly under your urgency.

“Adah.” That name was all Shuri gave you as you two stood staring at each other. “Oh don’t play dumb now, you two have been doing this thing since we were teenagers.” 

You gritted your teeth, for a second time today, an Udaku child was right about something. Adah was a year younger than you and Shuri, her grandparents sat on the council so she was frequently in the palace growing up. Shuri never cared too much for Adah, saying that she was too whiny and took up too much of your time. This dislike only increased when you and Adah started casually dating as teenagers. 

While you put the emphasis on casualness, Adah could never do the same; always trying to cling to your side and attach herself to your and Shuri’s plans. This only led to the Princess feeling more confident in her ability to voice her disdain for the young girl, consistently pointing out her shortcomings. When you finally did end things with Adah, she still seemed to pine after you, even going as far as to join the Dora Milaje to maintain proximity. 

“Adah is just a friend Shuri, the same as she was back then.” This earned you a laugh from the Princess. 

“Oh I’m sure she’s just a friend to you, but she doesn't see you the same way and she makes it abundantly clear.” Shuri looked you up and down. “And you don’t seem to have a problem with that, do you?” 

You chose to ignore the second part of Shuri’s statement, instead attacking the first part. “Why does it matter who I’m friends with Shuri?” 

She scoffed at you and attempted to walk away, done with this conversation. But you had grown tired of things always ending on her word, by her command. So you stepped in front of her, blocking her path with your body. When she stepped in another direction you followed suit, leaving her nowhere to go. “Why does it matter who I’m friends with?” 

“Get out of my way.”

“Answer my question.” 

The Princess was left with a decision, attempt to worm her way around you, success rate: twenty-five percent, or answer your question. Reluctantly she chose the ladder. 

“I do not care who you’re friends with Y/N. Truly, I don’t.” She used the closeness of your bodies that you had created to her advantage, leaning over you. “But Adah, she’s not just a friend, is she? Because I remember what it was like to be your friend and I don’t recall it involving sneaking out of your bedroom at three AM every other night.” 

Fuck. 

Your eyes widened at her words and your breath caught in your chest. How did she know about that? Those were isolated incidents. The few times when you had permitted Adah into your bedroom late at night it was just long enough to make you feel something again, before swiftly kicking her out. 

“Oh don’t get quiet on me now Y/N, where's all that energy you just had?” Shuri teased you, cocking her head to the side with a chuckle.

Two options played out in your head at that moment. The first was to stick to what you knew worked with Shuri, logic, and reason. Walk away from the conversation and wait until you were both cooler-headed. The second option was to really give it to Shuri, and remind her why your attitude was just as feared as hers, with the hopes that she’d step off afterward. Two shit options but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You know what Shuri, first off fuck you. We’re not friends, right? So, who I decide to spend my time with is none of your business.” Your words had Shuri straightening up, no longer towering over you. 

“Second, fuck you again. You ended this, you didn’t wanna be my friend anymore, so yeah maybe I decided to be friends with Adah again. But guess who no longer gets an opinion on it? You.” You had effectively backed the Princess into a wall, her having nowhere to go but to press her back up against it and wait for you to finish. 

“Third and finally fuck you. Fuck your bullshit ass entitled attitude that pushes everyone away that tries to help you. Fuck your inability to not be an asshole for once in your life. Fuck you for not even being able to be a decent non-friend to me Shuri. I mean shit, we didn’t have to be best friends but you don’t have to be such a dick.” 

By the time you finished speaking, you realized you had said way more than you’d originally intended to. Letting some of the anger that you’d held onto from your adolescence spew out on the princess now. You two stared at each other for a moment, not sure what to say after your honest words.

Shuri tried to speak but you stopped her with a raise of your hand. There was nothing left to say here. Backing away from the Princess you ignored her calls and made your way away from her as quickly as you could. 

Once you were clear out of sight Shuri sunk down to the floor, burying her head in her knees. How did she keep doing this? Insulting and pushing you away when all she wanted to do was recreate the relationship you guys used to have. But how could she when clearly she had hurt you so badly? 

Two shadows appeared over Shuri and she looked up to see Nakia and T’Challa, locked arm and arm, staring down at her. The last thing she wanted right now was some lecture from her brother. “What do you want?” 

“We heard everything.” T’Challa rocked on his heels slightly, his nervousness apparent. He wasn’t sure how to go about a situation like this. Being king, that was easy. But being an ubhuti omdalana? (older brother) This was much harder. 

“Okay…” Shuri buried her head back into her knees, her braids shielding her face from view.  

The King looked to Nakia, hoping his girlfriend might have something to say here to help the situation. Instead, the war dog just smiled and squeezed T’Challa’s arm. “I am going to check on Y/N.” She whispered to him quietly. “You got this.” 

T’Challa held tightly to Nakia as she tried to pull away, shooting her a “Do not leave me here.” look, which only made Nakia smile. After a few tugs, she finally got her arm out of T’Challa’s hold and she bent down to speak to Shuri. “Sisi (sister), try to at least listen to what he says hmm?” She rubbed the princess’s shoulder gently, satisfied that she could go when Shuri gave her a small nod. 

When Nakia left T’Challa sat down next to his sister, pulling his knees to his chest to mimic her. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.”

“Okay…” The siblings sat in silence for a little bit, T’Challa unsure of what to say. He tried to think what his Baba would do if he were still here or what kind words his mother would offer but he drew blanks. Just as he went to speak Shuri’s head popped up. 

“It is like she wants me to hate her or something.”

“Ingaba uthetha ukuthini? (What do you mean?)” T’Challa turned to look at his little sister confused by her words. 

“Y/N, it’s like she wants me to hate her. Everything she does I’m convinced she only does it to infuriate me.” T’Challa recognized the tone of his sister's voice, it was the same one that developed when she had solved a math problem or fixed a mechanical issue by herself. A tone of finality. 

“And what has she done thus far to make you hate her?” Now that he understood where Shuri’s problem lay, her brother felt much more confident helping her work through it. 

Shuri looked up at her brother as if he was crazy. “What do you mean what has she done to make me hate her? You heard the whole argument right?” 

T’Challa nodded. 

“Then you have heard just the most recent thing she’s done to infuriate me, becoming friends with Adah.” 

“And why can she not be friends with Adah?” T’Challa posed the question simply, raising his eyebrows at the Princess. 

“Because she knows I dislike Adah, she could have chosen any girl in the palace to be friends with and yet she chooses the one she knows I do not like? What kind of a friend does that?” Shuri let out a puff of air as she spoke about your behavior, but she didn’t stop there. 

“I mean really mkhuluwe (brother), do your friends treat you like that?” 

“Shuri,” T’Challa tried to stop his sister from continuing. 

“One moment, I am just saying who gave her the right to be so annoying! Friends are not supposed to be annoying-” 

“Shuri,” T’Challa tried again to interject but was shut down. 

“You came to listen to me talk, yet you keep cutting me off. Like I was saying friends are not supposed to be annoying, petulant, life-sucking-”

T’Challa couldn’t stand it any longer and finally, he fully interrupted her. “Shuri! For Bast's sake listen to me for a moment.” 

Shuri cocked her head back in disbelief, cutting her eyes at him in the process. “Did you just yell at me?” 

The King swallowed, “Yes.” 

Shuri looked him up and down before nodding, impressed at his ability to finally stand up to her. “Go on.” 

“All of this,” He gestured around her body. “Is because you’re upset with Y/N, yes?” 

Shuri faltered for a second, “Not just because of Y/N-”

“Your heart rate increases when you are lying, try again.” 

The Princess gasped, shoving her older brother. “I told you about using your black panther powers on me, it’s weird!” 

T’Challa only laughed. “But I am right, yes? All of this is because you’re mad that Y/N has made friends with someone you do not like.” 

“Yes.” Shuri’s response was quick, almost as if she didn’t wanna agree to what T’Challa had said. 

“But sisi, were you not the one to end the friendship with Y/N in the first place? How can you be mad at the way she has chosen to move on?” T’Challa’s words struck a chord with his sister. “Even if she did deliberately choose Adah to upset you, which we both know our Y/N, and I do not think that is something she would do. Why do you get to treat her poorly because of it?” 

Shuri let out a groan and turned away from her brother, but T’Challa continued. 

“What it sounds like to me, little sister is that you are jealous that Y/N has moved on and has found someone else to spend her time with.”

Shuri sat there processing her brother's words. Jealous? She wasn’t jealous… Right? 

On the other side of the palace, Nakia had finally located you. 

“How did I know I would find you here?” The older woman looked up at you in the trees. Nakia guessed that this tree, the same one you would climb up as a child, is where you would be.

“Not too much has changed hmm.” You offered. 

“Oh but so much has.” Nakia mused with a smile as she started her ascent into the trees. 

“Be careful, your body is not as young as it used to be.” You warned her with a laugh, earning a gentle shove from her once she finally got herself situated. 

“Are you calling me old sisi (sister)?” 

“I am not calling you young.” Your laughter only increased at her shocked expression. 

“I leave for a few months and you start insulting your elders? You really are just like Shuri.” Nakia meant the comment to be funny, and a few years prior it would have been. But now the mention of the princess made the smile slowly fade from your face. 

This of course did not go unnoticed by Nakia, she brushed your shoulder with hers gently. “Talk to me about her.” 

You shook your head, “Nakia, there's nothing to say about her that I haven't already said. You heard it all.” 

“Then tell it to me again. Explain to me how two girls who I watched grow up like sisters, now cannot spend a minute together without fighting.” Nakia’s brown eyes bore into your own. She always had a way about her, this energy that encouraged you to spill what had been weighing on you. And especially up here, high above the palace looking out onto the rest of the Golden City, you felt the urge to open up for once. 

“I don’t know what I did to make her so upset with me.” The words came out of your mouth quietly. “It was like one minute she was my best friend and now she can hardly stand the sight of me. Everything I do is somehow wrong in her eyes.”

“You know that’s not how she really feels Y/N.” Nakia tried to reason with you. 

“As much as you and Mama keep saying that Nakia, I think you’re wrong.” You finally pulled your eyes away from her. “She is all upset that I’ve chosen to spend time with someone else but she was the one who decided she didn’t want to spend any time with me.” 

Nakia tucked a few stray curls behind your ear. “Do you want to know what I think sisi?” 

You made a sound of inquiry, encouraging Nakia to continue. 

“I think she regrets her decision.” 

You whipped your head to face Nakia. “Intoni (What)?” 

“I am being serious, I think Shuri regrets her decision about ending the friendship,” Nakia spoke matter of factly as if she had weighed out all the options in front of her and settled on that one. 

“Yeah, and what about her behavior is saying ‘I want Y/N back as a friend.’ to you?” The question came out more comical than you intended but you couldn’t help it, the idea Nakia was pushing was laughable. 

“You and I both know Shuri, so you and I both know the last thing she can do is admit when she’s wrong. Think back to when we were kids and she didn’t want to admit that it was her miscalculations that made the hair dye ‘semi permanent’ not ‘washable’ like she insisted it was.” The memory Nakia brought up had you laughing. 

You and Shuri couldn’t have been but thirteen when she insisted that her new project was a hundred percent safe and a hundred percent NOT permanent. That of course led to you both having matching bright purple streaks in your hair for two months. 

Seeing your smile again brought Nakia some peace, she hadn’t lost you to your mind's overthinking yet. “Shuri is just hard-headed. She does not know how to say she wants you back in her life, so she doubles down on her stance.” 

You pondered Nakia’s words, it was true that Shuri did seem to double down on her dislike of you in the past three weeks. Almost as if being in increased proximity to you was making her miss you and lash out in response. 

“Promise me something?” Nakia wrapped her arm around your shoulder bringing you into her. 

“I can’t promise something if I do not know what it is Nakia. What if you wanted me to promise that I’ll jump from this spot right now? That’s not a promise I would make.” You were only rambling to annoy Nakia at this point and she knew it. She brought her other hand to flick your forehead. 

“Hush. Just promise me that you won’t shut Shuri out completely?” The older woman looked down at you awaiting your answer. “I know this is hard for you, having to be with her constantly when she isn’t the Shuri we know. But, there will come a time when she is again and I want you two to be able to rebuild when that comes.” 

You inhaled deeply debating if this was something you could promise to. 

“I’m not asking for you to lay down and let her insult you, Shuri needs someone to keep her in check too.” That got a chuckle out of you. The Princess needed more than just someone to keep her in check, she needed a full attitude adjustment. “But I am just saying, I think the more time you two spend together the more she’ll come back around.” There was a glint in Nakia’s eyes when she spoke that you didn’t recognize. 

“Okay.” You agreed quietly. 

“Okay?” Nakia squeezed you tight. “I will take an okay, I was not even sure if you were going to let me get this far!” 

The two of you both laughed in unison, knowing that it was a rare occasion when you actually took someone's advice. Your laughter was interrupted by the chirp of Nakia’s kimoyo beads alerting her that she had an incoming call. 

“Oh it's Challa, let us see what he wants.” The call went through and a holographic picture of the prince popped out of the beads. “Molo (Hello), sthandwa sami (my love). Everything is well I assume?” 

T’Challa grinned back at Nakia. “Ewe, just like you said it would.” The two just gazed at each other through the phone for a moment before the King cleared his throat. “I was um calling to see if you’d be joining us for dinner tonight?” 

“Of course, I would not miss it for the world.” Nakia’s reply came quick and you could have sworn T’Challa’s smile doubled in size. 

The soft sound of Shuri’s voice interrupted the moment. “Is Y/N with you?” 

Nakia hesitated a moment, “Yes, she is.” 

“Is she uh- coming with us to dinner?” Shuri herself seemed unsure if she actually wanted to ask the question. Peeking out from behind her brother's shoulder, showing that they were both still sitting on the floor. 

Nakia looked over at you, trying to judge your body language. When she didn’t sense anything that seemed like you were against the idea she finally spoke. “Ewe, she will be joining us for dinner.” 

Shuri sat up from her slouched position, her tone sounding more joyus. “Really? So it will be me, you, T’Challa, Mother, and Y/N. Good.” When she finished speaking she felt the eyes of T’Challa and Nakia on her, now both bearing sickeningly wide smiles. Why were they looking at her like that? As if her response was something they could have predicted. It made the princess check her attitude, returning back to her unbothered demeanor. “It is good Y/N will be joining us, for work and everything.”

“Mhm, I think so too.” T’Challa followed up his sister, alleviating some of the attention from her to himself. “Just like old times.”

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[helaelaemond]

Aegmond + dry humping and a sprinkle of degradation (maybe Aegon tormenting Aemond like, "Was this why you did not care for that whore I paid for you, brother?")

HELAELAEMOND'S KINKTOBER

Pairing:  Aegon x Aemond

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Aemond tries to teach Aegon the basics of wrestling. Aegon is easily distracted.

Content warning(s): canon typical incest

KINK CATEGORIES: Dry humping, incest

Rating: E

Masterlist

"Keep your centre of balance low, lest you lose your balance!"

Aemond's voice is frustrated as he commands his elder brother. Aegon, trying to take something seriously for once, bends his knees and sways slightly on the balls of his feet.

"Good. Alright, the easiest way to incapacitate your opponent is by taking out one leg. Do you remember how to do this?"

"No." Aegon frowns slightly. "How do you?"

Aemond rolls up the sleeves of his loose shirt, his leather jerkin long since discarded. Aegon's room is warm in the autumn heat, and trying to teach him even the basics of wrestling that he has neglected for years is strenuous. "I pay attention when required."

Aegon makes a face in mockery, and Aemond bites the inside of his cheek to stop from berating him. "Fine. What now?"

"Look at how I am standing."

Aegon rakes his eyes appreciatively over his younger brother's form. He's lithe, tall, narrow, quite a man to look at now he's grown. He smirks slightly. "I am looking."

Aemond swallows. "Most opponents will have one leg in front of the other, whether it be conscious or otherwise. That is the leg you will aim for. Keep your balance low, and come closer."

Still crouching slightly, and feeling ridiculous for it, Aegon obeys.

"Now, press your chest against my thigh, and keep your head on the outside of my hip, lest I grasp it. At the same time, lock your arms around the back of my knee."

The elder does as he's told, the movements careful for once. Last time he'd been in Flea Bottom, Aegon had got in a scrap over a barmaid, and before Cargyle had stepped in, he had been knocked to the ground by a commoner. Humiliating, given how much training he has, but he is trained to fight fair. The scum of the streets do not know those rules.

He notices how Aemond tries to stay still for him, even though he seems uncomfortable. Is that...? No, Aegon must be seeing things. Things that make him grin again.

"Now brace your knee on the ground as you pull my own knee closer, and use your shoulder to push my hips."

The action is taken slowly by the elder, and he presses his shoulder experimentally against Aemond's hips to get the angle right. After a long moment of repeating each component, Aemond steps back. "Good. Now try it all in one go."

Aegon takes in a breath and nods, trying to remember it. He lunges quickly towards Aemond, keeping low, and does what he's been told. To his delight, Aemond ends up flat on his back, with his long leg around his brother's hip. He grunts quietly and nods, bright hair splayed around his head like a crown.

"As easy as that?" Aegon asks.

"Can be," comes the reply. "Not all of your opponents will be as pliant as I."

That sounds like a challenge, and Aegon smirks. He tries to keep the upper hand by leaning over him and grasping him by the throat, but Aemond is too quick. Before Aegon can even understand what's happening, their positions are flipped, and he's on his back with his little brother atop him.

Gods, it feels good. There's something so good about being taken control of like this, but still feeling entirely safe. It makes his cock hard. He looks up at Aemond and chuckles. "You like me on my back?"

Aemond lets go of him with a huff. "Don't be obscene."

Immediately, Aegon sits up and tries to grab him, and again, he's beaten easily. But this time, he locks his legs around his little brother's slender hips and keeps him close. "Ah, I thought I noticed that," he drawls. "Is this why you did not care for that whore I paid for, all those years ago? Should I have bought you a boy?"

Aemond's lip twitches in a snarl. "It's nothing."

"Are you a pillow-biter, little brother?" It's only a tease, though, and feeling Aemond's hard cock press against his own excites him. Wrestling him slowly like this has his blood running hot.

"Let me go."

"No. I think I'm going to enjoy this." He rolls his hips up a few times and bites his lip in pleasure. He grasps Aemond's face in his hands and watches him as he does it. The younger seems to like it, against all odds. "Ah, doesn't that feel good?"

In his loose breeches, his cock aches. He's thought of Aemond when he's touched himself before, and there's no shame in it. The other is a fine man. Handsome, noble, fearsome. Everything a Targaryen should be - and everything he is not. He wraps his legs tighter around him and grinds up harder.

"Gods," he swears. "Do you think about fucking me?"

"No." But Aemond's cheeks are red, and he's no longer trying to get free. He swallows thickly, and then, he begins to move, too. Hesitantly, he props himself up, and his elegant hands go to Aegon's waist.

"I think about fucking you," Aegon admits, grinning. "How could anyone love the likes of us, but each other, anyway?"

Aemond bites his lip, and he begins to set the pace. His breeches are loose, too, and it allows them both to feel everything. Aemond is as practically untouched as a virgin, Aegon is sure, and whilst he certainly isn't, having him between his thighs is making him almost delirious.

"Only a Targaryen can love a Targaryen," Aegon continues, cackling. "Do you love me, brother?"

Aemond grunts in response. His one good eye is fixed on the lumps in their trousers, watching how they rub together. His speed quickens and Aegon moans in appreciation.

"Oh, yes, just like that," he encourages. "I didn't know you had it in you! Go on, don't disappoint me."

Barely audible, Aemond mutters, "I won't."

Neither brother lasts long grinding together. Aegon's hands bury into Aemond's hair as he gets close, and he pulls it roughly as he spills, his name on his lips. Aemond follows quickly, nothing more than a stifled moan sounding in his throat. Aegon looks between them in satisfaction to see the little wet patch on Aemond's breeches.

He thinks about licking him clean. Another time, perhaps. His heart is racing from his orgasm, and he feels as light as a feather on the stone floor of his chamber. Thighs go loose and he lets him go. Aemond kneels in front of him for a moment, before standing up.

He runs a hand through his hair, and walks over to the window and back, before helping Aegon to his feet. "Well. Shall we continue?"

Aegon smirks. "Certainly. You shall teach me yours ways, and I shall teach you mine."

#aegmond #aemond x aegon #aegon x aemond #mine #helaelaemond kinktober #aemond targaryen fic #aegon targaryen fic #aegmond fic #ask #arcielee

[smartycvnt]

Path of Misery

Title: Path of Misery Pairing: Jill Valentine x Reader Prompt: 24. Placing kisses on each other's scars NR WC: 1902

Y/n sighed as she walked into her living room to find Jill sulking by the window. The BSAA taking Jill back after Africa had been a minor miracle. It had been Chris vouching for Jill that kept her out of a prison answering or crimes that she had been forced to commit. Jill had been less than happy about the not guilty verdict, despite the fact that it was keeping her out of jail. She didn't believe that she deserved any of the kindness being extended towards her, especially Y/n's. To Jill, Y/n was the biggest victim in all of this. Not only had she lost Jill, but the whole reason Jill had been sent away to get lost was the person who had brought back a shell of the former STARS operative.

"How long are you going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself?" Y/n asked. Jill's brows furrowed at Y/n's question. Y/n had been nothing but sweet and supportive throughout all of this, and after nearly five years of sitting around waiting for Jill to pick herself up, Y/n was going to start just putting Jill together herself. "It's ridiculous Jill."

"Excuse me?" It was a challenge, one that Jill never expected Y/n to take. Y/n had always been softer than Jill, less cut out for the horrors of the world. Even TerraSave had proven to be too much for Y/n to handle, which was a shame considering how brilliant Y/n had been while working there. All it had taken was one bad mission and Y/n was calling it quits and giving everything up.

"I said it's ridiculous. I mean, I am not wrong. You sit there and complain about the BSAA keeping you on training wheels, but I haven't once seen you do anything to prove that you can handle even what they're giving you. If I was your boss, or even Chris, I'd demand you hand in your badge and gun on the spot. You obviously want to stay broken and wallow in your misery for a bit longer." Y/n hated how harsh her words were coming out, but she had to stay strong. Jill crossed her arms over her chest as she turned further into herself. "Seriously? After all that you're not doing a single thing to prove me wrong. I can't with you anymore."

"Leave me in my time of need, what a great girlfriend!" Jill shouted at Y/n.

"You did it to me first!" Y/n yelled back. Jill dropped her arms as she faced Y/n. There were tears sparkling in Y/n's eyes, and if Jill didn't know why Y/n was so upset, she would have thought they made Y/n's eyes look even more beautiful. However, all Jill could feel was guilt as she watched the first few tears drip down Y/n's face. "You left me after Terragrigia. You went with Chris to chase after BOWs, and then you got yourself almost fucking killed trying to save him. I've taken so much time to take care of you, but you didn't even give me a week. Do you remember what you said to me when I got back from that mission, Jill?"

"I don't want to do this now," Jill said with a voice smaller than Y/n could have thought possible for her. "Please don't make me do this."

"What did you tell me Jill?" Y/n asked again.

"Y/n, I am sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I didn't take care of you. I'm sorry that I ran away because I was scared that the things I could offer you weren't going to be enough. I'm sorry that I can't stop thinking about the things I did to the people who were supposed to be my friends. I'm sorry that I can't take my fucking shirt off without a goddamn reminder of what I did. I'm sorry that I feel guilty every single time I see that scar on your shoulder because you shouldn't have been anywhere near that stupid island or that dumb organization. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

Jill fell forward onto her knees in a fit of sobs. Y/n knelt down next to her and cradled the woman's head as she cried. Jill curled into Y/n's arms and tried to hide herself until she calmed down. Y/n lifted Jill's head up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Jill pulled Y/n in for a kiss, grateful that they could have that moment and know that it wouldn't be held against her. Anybody else would have thrown Jill out months ago, but Y/n had always been faithful, even whenever she thought Jill was dead.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of your scars," Y/n told Jill. She placed her hand over Jill's chest, her fingertips landing on the little scars where the scarab had dug its legs into. Jill took a deep breath as she pulled her shirt over her head so that Y/n could see them. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat as she saw Jill's body for the first time in years. Y/n had seen parts of it whenever Jill was still in the hospital, but she hadn't seen the fading scars from the training Umbrella had put her through. "Can I touch them?"

"Yes," Jill said. She closed her eyes and held her breath as she waited for the feeling of Y/n's fingers on her skin. Instead, Jill was met with soft kisses being pressed against each one. Y/n took her time to get each one on Jill's scars on her torso before she sat up properly and pressed a kiss to the one just above Jill's lip. "I love you."

"I love you too," Y/n said as she handed Jill her shirt back. Jill tossed it aside and moved to sit behind Y/n. Jill let her fingers brush over the skin raised on Y/n's shoulder from one of the many incidents that had occurred whenever Y/n had been sent to Terragrigia. Y/n let out a small sigh as the contact forced memories of that time back into her brain, only to be pushed out by the gentle feeling of Jill's lips against her skin. It was a time she'd never want to return to again, but she was grateful for it ultimately allowing her to be closer with Jill in the long run.

#my writing #resident evil x reader #resident evil #jill valentine #jill valentine x reader

[nikethestatue]

The Agreement

Chapter 4

Azriel, Lord Night, Duke of Velaris

For fuck’s sake–she is so beautiful, he is having trouble thinking straight.

Those magnificent brown eyes and the lush pink cheeks, the ugly, ill-fitting dress and the cheap hat–it was the whole package. She is mesmerising. Addictive. Beguiling.

For someone who blushed at every turn and knew nothing about carnal fornication (her words), Elain Archeron could tempt a saint.

Trying to control his breathing, his nonchalant appearance and his detachment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her even for a moment, no matter how he tried. The more she talked–and is she mouthy!--the more he craved. More questions, more challenges, more arguments. Definitely more antiquated terms for sexual activity. He wanted everything. He wanted her adorable attitude and her confusion and her uncertainty. 

She was magical.

As Goethe once said ‘Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen’, and watching Elain Archeron in action was proving that sentiment to be correct. This was a strange, fearless, stupid girl, who believed in herself and her course of action so firmly, she was willing to risk everything.

Did Azriel want to stop her? He was rich. He could give her the ten thousand, no questions or agreements needed. He could just make it all happen for her.

But he was selfish.

So selfish.

And he did not want to stop her. He wanted her for himself. 

Borderline deranged now with his desire for her.

He seriously considered taking out his cock from his trousers and plunging inside of her, virginity be damned.

Pushing her down on all fours, holding her neck to the pillow and fucking her ruthlessly.

He wanted to bite her.

Mark her. 

Claim her.

Sink his teeth into her neck like a savage. Like a beast. 

He needed for her to scream his name, as she climaxed for the first time in her life. When it was he who was giving her pleasure. 

He wanted to come deep inside of her womb–the womb he already thought of as his.

Dominate her.

Make her submit.

Slow down, Lothario, he willed himself. This poor girl has no idea what she is getting herself into. 

“I want kissing, flowers and pastries.”

Azriel turned his head and looked at Elain, who stood with her hands on her small hips. She was blushing, as usual, her cheeks like two blossoming roses, and her eyes were blazing with defiance.

“Pardon?” he frowned at her odd words.

“Yes, those are the things that I want,” she declared firmly. Then, she waved a stack of papers, which he recognised to be their agreement. “I added them, and I want them to be on here properly.”

“Tell me again, what is it you want?” he requested, his heart jumping with elation. If she was wanting to add something to the agreement, did that mean that she was considering it?

“I am entitled to kissing,” she told him. 

“Mmmm, alright,” he nodded, trying to hide his smirk. She was so insistent about it, but little did she know that he was planning on kissing her. A lot. Everywhere. “How much kissing?” he pushed.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “but a lot. I think that I should like kissing.”

“I don’t see a problem with that. Kissing it is. What else?”

She came closer, still blazing with embarrassment and excitement, but went on,

“I would like flowers. The same as you gave me today…I like flowers very much, and I would like for you to give them to me,” she glanced at him hopefully and he patted himself on the back internally. He was right to bring her the bouquet, and her interest in flowers was obvious, considering that she decorated her hat with them and wore a little brooch too. 

“It would be my pleasure to give you flowers,” he agreed, his expression soft. She was his own pretty little blossom. His flower.

“Thank you,” she breathed happily.

He extended his hand and took hers, clasping her fist in his. He’d noticed a plethora of various scars on her small but firm little hands and he figured that they were probably from gardening, unless she was terribly unfortunate with her cooking knives.

“Do you like to garden?” he asked then, skimming his thumb over the pale skin of her hand. His own hand seemed so much rougher than hers; massive, dark, scarred. But, somehow, at least in his opinion, it looked fitting wrapped around hers, holding her protectively.

She nodded once, her eyes downcast.

“I love it,” she murmured. “It’s one of my pleasures in life–watching things grow, toiling in the soil, seeing the fruits of my labour. It’s been a hobby of mine since I was young…Now, we don’t have much space for flowers. And everything I grow, we sell at the market.”

He didn’t offer any comments, or pity, or promises. He simply stated,

“I have a fine garden at the house. If you wish to garden, it’s yours.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she grinned at him happily and bit her lower lip, trying to stifle her excitement. In turn, it did all sorts of exciting things to him, but of a more….carnal nature. 

He wanted to see that same excitement directed at him. Wanted that lip biting to happen when he entered her. Wanted to hear the sweet noises that she would make when he moved inside of her. 

“And did I hear pastries?” he cocked his brow and then smirked. She tried to pull her hand out of his, but he wouldn’t allow it, and kept it securely in his grasp. 

“I like pastries very much, and I would like to have them,” she jutted her chin out, proud and adorable. “All sorts of pastries! With cream and berries and chocolate,”

“Oh?”

“Not lardy cake or trifle, but French patisserie.”

He kept his amusement to himself, “Is that so?”

“Yes, my lord. Baba au Rhum is my very favourite! But I love eclairs as well, and of course a fine millefeuille is divine!”

Azriel was watching her with delight–he enjoyed seeing her light up, become enthusiastic about something–even if it was just pastry–and speak passionately about it.

“You ought to know, Miss Archeron,” he went so far as to thread their fingers together, for which he received a small, but audible gasp of surprise and maybe even pleasure, from her. “I am a man of simple tastes, but I do love a pudding,”

“You do, my lord? What is your favourite?” she asked immediately.

“I enjoyed Eton Mess, if I am being honest,” he said, a bit shyly. “When I was in Eton College, it was traditionally served during the annual cricket match against Harrow School. Are you familiar with it?”

Elain nodded and recalled, “My father is an Old Etonian. I believe he predates the pudding, but I know it’s meringue, cream and berries.”

“It is indeed.”

She chewed her plump lower lip again, her brow furrowed with some concerning thought, until she offered,

“Would you like me to make it for you?”

He was taken aback, something he didn’t expect to happen during his conversation with her.

“Miss Archeron, you are not required to cook for me!” he protested, though somewhere, deep down, the idea of her cooking their meals very much appealed to him. It was something domestic and he hasn’t had a real sense of family in a very long time. He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe never.

“But what if I wish to? I am a good cook,” she began pleading her case, needlessly, as if he had anything against it. “I cook all our meals at home. And I enjoy baking, though it’s not something that I can do frequently as we have no stove.”

“If that is your wish, then so be it,” he decided simply. 

Glancing at the stack of papers in her hand, he nodded towards it and asked,

“What have you for me there, Miss Archeron?”

She exhaled and handed him the agreement.

“It’s signed,” she told him. 

There was a veritable jolt of excitement and thrill inside his chest at her words. 

He actually couldn't believe her words, so stupidly, he looked at the pages and saw her signature.

“I want you to sign,” she ordered primly, “and I want a copy.”

“Of course, Miss Archeron.”

He reached for the pen and ink on the desk and immediately signed, making sure that she didn’t change her mind. He hurried through the document, initialling where needed, signing off on her ridiculous additions, and agreeing to everything. Was this because he was lonely? Attracted to her? Smitten? Needing an heir? Fuck if he knew, and he didn’t want to analyse his need either, but whatever it was, he didn’t feel miserable for the first time in a long time. He felt hopeful. 

He wasn’t even exactly sure what he wanted from all of this?

And maybe, it was just as simple and as pathetic as having someone to come home to, who’d be there, with a hot meal, glad to see him.

Jesus Christ. This was just terrible–the fact that he devolved so much that he was getting excited over borrowing a pretty girl’s womb and making her live with him for money. He never expected to reach this point, but here he was.

And yet, this pretty girl was the silver lining in this entire deranged affair. 

“Thank you, Miss Archeron,” he said at last and extended his hands to her.

She gazed at him with those chocolate eyes of hers and then shook his hand tentatively.

“You may call me Elain now,” she told him. “You’ve said it a couple of times already. I think you may continue.”

“Well thank you,” he inclined his head, watching her. “May I ask what made you sign it? Was it the pastries? Or the kissing?”

She snorted adorably and informed him breezily, “I signed it last night already!”

“Have you?”

“Yes, but I wanted to add some points.”

“And you came up with flowers and pastries?” He scratched his cheek. “You could've asked for anything and I would’ve obliged.”

“What’s fair is fair, my lord,” she shrugged. “And I got what I wanted.”

Azriel folded the agreement and put it in his jacket pocket, before rising to his feet. 

“Shall we be on our way?” he asked.

Elain stared at him in alarm, her eyes wide with concern.

“N-now?” she mumbled.

He tried not to smile, and said, “yes, now. Or do you prefer we stay at this inn?”

Panicked, she gnawed at her lip.

“Buu-t,” she tried again, but Azriel said, “go get your things, Miss Archeron, and then we can get you settled in quickly.”

Hanging her head, she whispered, “Alright, sir,” and went into the bedroom. Azriel paced the salon, feeling buoyant. Giddy. Thrilled. And amused. Teasing the lovely Miss Archeron was fast becoming one of his favourite things to do.

It took her less than five minutes to emerge from the bedroom carrying her satchel. She was still wearing her hat, and there was no jacket in sight. She didn't dress according to the London fashions. Her dresses were provincial, and most women in the city did not wear dresses in the morning. However, Azriel suspected that she simply did not have skirts or blouses. It was cheaper to buy or make one item of clothing, instead of having separates. He could also see that her corset was stiff and old-fashioned. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a hand-me-down.

Extending his hand, he caught the handle of the satchel and took it from her. Opening the door, he waited for her to exit, and then offered her his arm. 

“Are you sure, my lord?” she asked softly, though she threaded her hand through his offered arm.

He squeezed her hand and left it on his elbow, keeping it there, his hold firm and wordlessly telling her to keep it where it was.

“I am,” was all he said.

They stepped out of the inn, and Elain squinted at the spring sun, lifting her face to the sun and enjoying its warmth.

“Aren’t you wearing a hat, my lord?” she worried.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t wear hats.”

She glared at him like he’d just grown a damn horn on his forehead and he chuckled.

“No hats, Miss Archeron,” he continued, as they walked down the street. “I don’t wear a beard or a moustache,” he added. “I am a walker,”

“So am I,” she piped, though he figured that it wasn’t necessarily by choice. 

“Good. Then we shall walk together.”

Cautiously, she confirmed, “You’ll walk with me?”

“I am, am I not?”

“Would it not be scandalous?”

“You will learn very quickly, Miss Archeron, that I am not one for social obligations. I have very little staff at my home, and I suffer formality only when I absolutely must. I don’t like clutter, or unnecessary things.”

“Such as?” she was curious, hopping and skipping speedily next to him, trying to keep up with his very long legs and his long stride. 

“People. And doilies, Miss Archeron,” he announced flatly. “Doilies.”

“Oh. How odd.”

“I am a man. There is no place for doilies in my life.”

“How old are you?” she asked loudly, and then immediately pursed her lips. “I am sorry, my lord, I didn’t mea-,”

“29,” he answered. “I do enjoy it when you blurt out what’s on your mind. It’s very refreshing.”

“Impolite, you mean?”

“You can ask me anything, Elain,” he offered gently, and looked down at her. “Absolutely anything. I would be happy to answer any of your questions.”

Elain kept slowing down in front of expensive shops, extravagant displays, bakeries, and flower stalls, and he obliged her, stopping so she could gawk and gush. She was clutching her bouquet to her chest, and despite her cheap, inelegant dress she looked like a ray of sunshine. The personification of spring.

She also stopped and petted every single dog that they passed. 

She let the dogs slobber over her hands, but she only giggled, rubbed their heads and bodies and inquired about the dogs’ names and breeds. 

“I take it you like dogs?” Azriel chuckled, when they passed by a pug, which threw Elain into a pure frenzy of elation.

“I do! I would love a dog,” she nodded. “We have a cat at home, so it could catch mice. He is lazy though,”

“Is he?”

“Yes. He is a tubby. His name is Aidas, and he doesn’t do anything we want. But Feyre, my younger sister, is greatly attached to him. So he lives with us and takes up space.”

“Does he kill the mice?”

“Often he kills birds and brings them to us as a trophy.”

Azriel laughed and Elain sighed.

“I wish he’d kill mice. We can’t have biscuits in the house because of them.”

This gave Azriel an idea. He was going to sit on it for a bit, but Elain might be getting a new pet some time in the future.

They passed a shop that sold unmentionables and stockings, hats and bags. They were finely made, of great quality and Elain paused in front of the window, looking at the display hungrily.

Azriel stood silently at her side, before lowering his head and whispering in her ear,

“I also do not like corsets…”

She shot him a bewildered look and asked,

“What do you mean?”

He smiled at her and then gently tucked a strand of her thick hair under her hat.

He watched the sweet blush spread over her cheeks and pressed his chin to the top of her head, saying quietly,

“I like seeing the natural shape of a woman’s body. Nothing cinched or pushed up, nothing that covers the curves or the female form.”

“So, my lord,” she squirmed next to him, absolutely appalled by how close they were to each other, in public, no less, and how intimate he was being with her, “no hair? No corsets? Not to mention naked fornication! Anything else?”

Azriel chuckled and tugged her along. 

“I don’t much care for gloves either,” he told her.

“Should I just walk around naked?” she seethed.

Only that was a mistake, because his handsome, sharp face turned positively indecent with how he looked at her. How his eyes skimmed over her figure. How he paused on her mouth and then licked his lips.

“Oh, I would welcome that in a heartbeat,” he grinned a lascivious smile and Elain just about fainted on the spot.

“My lord!”

“Your lord, Miss Archeron, would have you wear lace and satin delicates, greet him ready and willing when he comes home, bathe with him, allow him to feed you, care for you and protect you. And not argue with him about how and when he wants you.”

“You are despotic!” 

He grabbed her hand and forcefully threaded it through his arm, keeping it there. 

“You have no idea,” Azriel teased. “Shame you signed that agreement…”

“I regret it now!” she cried out, though he knew that she was lying. 

“Too late to back out.”

She kept trying to escape his hold, but he wouldn’t allow it, as they walked down the busy street.

“Goodness,” she muttered, “I am afraid to ask, but is there anything else that I should know?”

“Oh, I am certain of it,” he chuckled. He wanted to keep the conversation going, and keep Elain’s attention away from the passersby who kept glaring and offering judgemental glances. Yes, he assumed that he and Elain made an odd couple–not in physical appearance, because in his opinion, they matched quite well. However, his suit was elegant and well-tailored, and he carried himself with an aura of confidence, authority and determination, while Elain’s dress was poorly made and everything about her outfit bore an aura of poverty and desperation. Not the girl herself, though. No. Elain might have been shy, but she was also quietly self-assured, and did not cower. 

“I am not a passive man,” he told her, as he assisted her in crossing the street. “And neither am I aggressive. You will get what you see with me, Miss Archeron. I speak my mind,”

“Oh, I've noticed it!”

He smiled and thought that not many people would dare answer him in this manner. It was so refreshing. Even more refreshing because she didn’t even realise it. 

“I tell you what I want and what I don’t want–you’ll never have to guess with me. Some people find my manner unsettling and too forward. But it is how I am. 

“I wish for you to be the same with me–speak to me openly and do not hide.”

She looked directly at him and then nodded once. “I will.”

Azriel slowed down his brisk walking and said, “there is a post office right over there. Do you wish to send a telegram to your family?”

“Oh, yes!” 

In a few minutes, they entered a bustling post office, which was overwhelming in its size and the sheer number of people milling about and Azriel gently stirred Elain to a long wooden counter, where he gave her a form to fill out. Her big eyes kept roaming around the vast space, and he smiled softly at her amazement. He propped himself on the counter, figuring that if he wasn’t going to take things into his own hands, they’d be here until tomorrow. Dipping the pen in ink, he began filling out the form, while Elain was gawking around.

“What’s the story?” he asked at last, once the form was completed.

“What?” Elain finally looked at him, a little dazed and disoriented. He placed his hand over hers, atop of her little fist, and tsked to her. “Miss Archeron…Elain…”

“Oh, I am sorry, my lord! This is…overwhelming!”

“It is an impressive operation.” He agreed. “But tell me, what’s the cover story?”

“Cover story?” she asked in confusion.

“Yes, the story you offered your family. I am sure you didn’t tell anyone that you would be travelling to London in order to have my baby…”

She gasped at his words, instantly blushing, but he only soothingly stroked her hand with his thumb, keeping it in place.

“My lord, I…”

He cocked his head and gave her a measured look, noticing her racing pulse and the pinkish hue that kept creeping up her neck.

“You are here to have my baby, Elain,” he murmured, stating it as a fact, his voice husky and as he moved closer to her, he had to encircle her waist in his arm, before she collapsed from over-excitement.

“My lord,” she almost moaned, “we are in public…” though her protestations weren’t exactly convincing him, as she allowed him to pull her even closer to his chest.

“Oh, how aware I am of this unfortunate fact, Elain,” he breathed, his lips almost touching her ear. She shivered in his arms, her hand flexing beneath his own, as he whispered, “I’d much rather be in our home, you splayed naked beneath me, working thoroughly on making that baby of ours.”

“Jesus,” was all she pleaded breathlessly, squeezing his forearm, as she trapped her lower lip between her teeth. 

“Stop doing that,” he growled, “or I’ll be forced to pull it in my mouth…”

“Wha-?” she gasped.

He thumbed that luscious lower lip of hers from behind her pretty white teeth and then brushed his fingers over her mouth.

“Your mouth, Miss Archeron,” he drew his fingertips over her lips again, “is very enticing. Very. And I’d like my mouth to be on yours. But, as you have noticed, we are indeed in public. Therefore, let’s hurry up.”

He handed her the form that he had filled out and she read:

“Arrived in London. Obtained lodgings. Settling in. Will write soon. Elain.”

“Good enough?” he asked, and without waiting for confirmation, took her by the hand and pulled her along. They approached a clerk who processed the telegram, while Azriel was tapping his foot impatiently. Before they were done, Elain spied a leather-bound journal and then picked it up.

“You want that?” he asked simply.

“May I?

“Of course. Do you sketch?”

She shook her head, while the clerk calculated the tally and again, she cringed inwardly, seeing how much everything cost here. The journal was 50 pence. However, Azriel paid and looked at her, expecting an explanation.

“I like to write,” she said, putting the journal in her bag. “Stories and things…When there is little to read or do much of anything, it’s fun to escape into your own head.”

“Ahhh,” was all Azriel said, but it seemed like he understood. 

Once back on the street, Elain squinted at the sun, and cautiously asked, “are you unhappy, my lord?”

“Why?”

“You seem…impatient…” she said, while he brashly threaded her arm through his, just like he insisted on doing and walked purposefully, parting the crowds with his presence alone. Wherever they were, wherever they walked, whoever they encountered–Lord Night’s very essence overwhelmed everything. He was magnetic, masculine to the point of threatening, though his placid personality didn’t seem all too violent, but he definitely was controlling and powerful. Power–it seeped through his pores, bowing everyone to his will and his demands. This power of his was a living thing, an extension of him, which spoke on iron will and uncompromising position.

He looked at her, smiled and said simply,

“I want to kiss you, Elain.”

Elain gaped at him, her pretty, innocent face lighting up with excitement and curiosity. Both expressions made Azriel quite happy. 

“But, as you so correctly stated, we are not alone. Not to say that that would normally stop me,” he gave her a warning look, which only made her eyes pop even wider, “but I don’t wish to give you your first kiss on this busy, dirty street, with peddlers, horses and all these people watching us. When I kiss you, it would be our moment, private and only for you and I to enjoy and relish. Who knows, you might want to have me kiss you again…and again…” he winked at her. “You did put ‘kissing’ into our agreement,” he reminded her.

“Perhaps I do want to be kissed,” she said primly, as if she was allowing him the privilege of kissing her. Which, maybe, she was.

“Perhaps you’ll get your wish. Now, Elain, tell me what story you spun for your family that allowed you to come here?”

“Why do you think I spun a story?”

“Somehow, I doubt that you told your father and your sisters that you were coming to London to meet with a gentleman with whom you could potentially have a child. Now, tell me.”

Elain noticed that they had moved to a much more elegant part of the city now. It was almost as if there was an invisible line that they crossed, where from the hustle and bustle of where they were, they entered a quiet, wealthy enclave which was shaded with trees and parks. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Elain marvelled, seeing palatial estates sprawling along wide streets, not a speck of dirt under their feet. 

“Belgravia,” Azriel said to her, and then waved his hand and said, “the palace is just over there,”

“Buckingham?” 

“Yes. Do you wish to see it?”

“Yes!” she cried out. “Oh my god! May I? Will I…”

“I will take you,” he interrupted her easily. 

“I told my sisters that I was accepted to the Horticulture Institute and I was coming here for entrance exams,” Elain told him at last. “I’ve always had an interest in plants and gardening, and it wasn’t too unbelievable. Besides, it’s open to females now, so it wasn’t far-fetched.”

Azriel was impressed.

The girl wasn’t as naive as he thought. She was imaginative, practical, good enough to fool those who knew her best. That was the most difficult part of any plan.That she was fearless and stupid was another matter that he would discuss with her later. 

“Very smart, Miss Archeron,” he complimented her. “Perhaps, you may even find employment, cultivating a park and a garden…see, that park,” and he waved his hand again, pointing to a private little park in the middle of the street, “is mine.”

“You have a park??” she exclaimed. Her eyes just about bugged out of her head at his blase mention of a park. That he apparently owned. 

“I do. There are four parks on the street–each belonging to a family. One of them is mine. I shall give you the keys to the gate, so you can spend time there, trending to it, if you wish. Once you are enceinte, I think it would be a pleasant place for you to walk and take your exercise.”

A little of Elain’s light left her face, and she looked up at him and didn’t answer, though she offered a small, tight nod.

Azriel understood her reluctance. It was cruel, but he was here to remind her that this was not a companionable pleasure stroll through London or through his life. She had a job to do. She was hired for a reason, and while she was under contract she had access to all the luxuries and comforts of his existence, they were going to be temporary. She was here to produce a child. Azriel was going to humour her and permit her to garden or write or cook, or do whatever she wanted to (within reason), but it was all about making sure that she was healthy, content and receptive to him, and to his seed. And she needed to be reminded of that consistently. 

“Yes, my lord,” she nodded, “thank you. I would love to.”

Azriel didn’t think much of being firm about this. Once women began to show in their pregnancy, they entered confinement anyway, and mostly stayed home and did not go out in public, until the birth. Elain was already promised garden strolls, which she could do in private, not to mention the garden behind the house. 

They rounded the corner and Azriel stopped and announced,

“Well, here we are.”

It was an entire street of perfectly white, stately homes, rows of massive townhomes on one side, and here, on this side of the street, Elain now faced the white edifice of an elegant three-story mansion. It was brilliantly white, the lawn in front of it strikingly emerald, and in front of the stairs grew a stunning blue tree, heavy with fragrant blossoms.

“American Cobalt Lilac,” she muttered stupidly, looking at the splendidly beautiful place.

Azriel chuckled,

“I reckon I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d know the tree. I myself never knew what it was.”

He opened the wrought iron gate and pushed her in front of him, before resting his hands on her shoulders.

Resting his chin on her head, he whispered,

“Welcome home.”

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #my writing #elain archeron #azriel and elain #azriel #elain x azriel #elain #fanfic writer #the agreement #ACOTAR fanfiction #acotar fanfic #Chapter 4 #victorian era #Historic AU

[misslaevna]

A little rant about episode 11

Just finished watching episode 11, and to be honest I am so, so disappointed. I'm not one to complain openly about something, but right now I feel like it's time to.

Spoilers below, also tw: personal opinion, if you can't take that, please do not read this.

Also I'd like to state that I like bsd. I love bsd, I wouldn't have a blog and a tiktok account dedicated to the series if I didn't - this isn't to hate on the series nor on Asagiri, just my two cents regarding the plot.

I have voiced my concerns to friends and mainly on discord how the current direction of the manga and the plot worries me, and I am beyond stunned that my biggest fear actually came true.

All the 'Fyodor is my comfort character' personal stuff aside, I feel like since the prison break arc started, the quality of the writing and the plot hit an all time low.

From my perspective, we got this huge buildup about Fyodor being this absolutely genius of a character. He is smart, he accounts for every possibility and there is no detail that he could possibly miss.

On the other hand, we have Dazai, who is, well, just as smart and perceptive as Fyodor.

So, we have two very smart characters up against each other, which I get why is challenging from a writing perspective, however (especially) since the intrudction of Time Cat Lady, I feel like the writing went from a carefully and logically built up plot to throwing in deus ex machinas and a looot of explanations afterwards to conveniently give the upper hand to Dazai.

I have no problem with Fyodor dying and Dazai emerging as winner (actually I kind of do because I would've loved to see the Agency or Atsushi or Ranpo take him down, but what else could have possibly happened anyways? Dazai is a fan favourite, we don't kill the money machine), however I have a bone to pick with the execution.

I think I would've loved to see a more carefully constructed plot where I can actually root for characters and actually worry for them. Asagiri pulled way too many 'oh they look dead but oh wait actually this and that happened which the reader wasn't aware of so they're not dead' shenanigas to the point where, in my opinion, as readers we simply just couldn't take any major character 'death' seriously - they'll somehow be resurrected anyways or it's gonna eventually be revealed that they weren't even dead to begin with.

And this was the case with Dazai and Chuuya here as well. To me this feels more like trying to put out a fire because of being cornered and having created characters so smart that they prove to be too difficult to write (at least in a pace fast enough for monthly chapter releases?) than actually putting effort into the plot.

All the 'well actually Chuuya wasn't even a vampire' bullshit to me was just way too fucking convenient. I'm happy that Chuuya is alive and well, but this too just served as a convenient plot point to give Dazai the upper hand while dumbing Fyodor significantly down.

I'm sorry but I didn't interpret Fyodor's character so careless (especially for someone who's very sensitive about his physical health) as to not take the antidote as soon as he got out. I didn't get to know Fyodor who would just fall for that trick Dazai pulled.

I really feel like we missed out a LOT on Fyodor with no backstory or whatsoever provided. His character stayed shallow and empty, and I'm actually really mad at Asagiri about this because he was supposed to be this very dangerous and complex villain but I feel like what we were teased with was just not delivered.

I really hope we get a more refined manga ending or that this will be better executed in the upcoming chapters.

Once again, I'm not mad about Fyodor dying, I'm rather disappointed by the way it was delivered. It feels rushed, it feels empty and it didn't live up to my expectations at all.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #rant #letti rambles #i am just angry and sad #like this is not the bsd i fell in love with #and i mourn it #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya

[feyspeaker]

Picked up two prints! (And a sticker!)

Just so you know, I would legit pay for, like, a collection of your prints in a size somewhere between the mini and 11x14.

Like, I just want to put a *bunch* of them in a binder and just look at it sometimes lol

thank you so so much!!!! ;A; I have considered other sizes, but I live in a tiny place and my printing room is already full of too many sizes of paper/mailers/tubes/etc for what I do offer. I will keep it in mind but the sizes I have now are probably going to be pretty set for now.

About to go off on a tangent, so apologies for hijacking your sweet ask.

honestly this is still so crazy to me, thank you. I have been illustrating for years and years now, but really only found proper footing this year after taking a huge break from commissions and just hammering in what I really want to do with my life.

I've always preferred rendered painting but I felt like the market was so saturated and that I'd never be able to make a living doing it. Many of my older followers will know that for a couple of years I was really on this digital watercolor kick, doing more stylized work. It was extremely grueling despite being faster, bc I forced myself to work entirely on 1 layer with no eraser. It was faster for me to do and felt more "lucrative" as far as timeliness, but I was not very happy doing it, and did a lot of rendered painting studies in my free time, it was basically my "fun time" where I was doing one style for work and a totally different one for private pieces. Literally, I would be painting realistic block of cheese as my downtime.

I was so convinced that stylized stuff was what people wanted, and I have had boxes and boxes of prints I've bought and thrown away because they didn't sell.

Now that I am doing the kind of art my heart wants to do, I am so much happier and completely overwhelmed by how there are actually people who want to art I make for myself on their walls.

This is probably coming off so random but I've been thinking about it a lot, it really is true that you HAVE to paint what makes you happy. If you try to box yourself in to what seems the more "marketable" I promise you are going to be miserable. (Never stop challenging yourself, though. seriously.)

I have never been happier about the art I have created in the last 6 or so years of doing this professionally than I am now that I just said "fuck it, I am tired of painting anime-ish stylized stuff because that's what's in." It's like I've been forcing myself to jam a square block into a circle shaped hole for years. Not to mention that doing line art on literally over a thousand pieces (yes, I've counted, absolutely insane; comic artists please take care of yourselves) for years has well and truly fucked my hand up permanently, I fear.

Other artists, please listen to that little creature in your brain that's telling you it doesn't like painting anime girls or cats or thick chunky line art because that's what you think is popular. If painting nothing but hyperrealistic swords is where you heart is happiest, just do it and stop forcing yourself because I promise there are thousands of people out there who want to see your swords. Just make sure to throw in some jewels or filigree or whatever every once in a while to keep yourself challenged.

Sorry again for hijacking your message, I just am regularly blown away that somehow people actually like my art now that I like it. (Not that my older pieces are regrets btw, I think every single thing you paint no matter the style is worth its figurative weight in gold)

#ask