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candied-heartss · 9 months

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Okay so I've been thinking about this for a while and I just can't seem to write it myself so I was wondering if you could write a fic where Klitz and the Reader have been dating for a while like she went to Yale with him and stuff. And they have like super passionate sex like all the time, so at a party that you guys to he introduces you too a couple of his friends and they all start hitting on you and he gets like super pissed so he pulls you to the side like into a bathroom or something and he makes sure that everyone knows your his by giving you a bunch of hickies and marks and stuff. And then you accidentally call him daddy (yk cuz hes being so protective or something) it startles him but also turns him on more. 💀💀 sorry it's a lot but I really like this idea.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄

(ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ!ᵏˡⁱᵗᶻ ˣ ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ)

𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗄𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗓 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗒.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ (𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜), 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁, 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲!), 𝗱𝗮𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮, 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗵𝗼𝗹, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗸𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘇 𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿???

You didn't even know how you ended up in a situation such as this. Never in a million years did you think that you'd currently be getting your brains fucked out by your boyfriend in front of a mirror while in the cramped bathroom of someone's house at a party, but yet, here you were.

"Open wide, baby." you heard the nearly sinful words being whispered into your ear. Klitz's long fingers pressed themselves against your lips, parting them so that he could easily slip inside the warm, wetness of your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and nearly making you gag from the pressure, the rhythm, and the speed of his thrusts never changing.

You whimpered, but to little effect, on account that your mouth was full of his fingers, the tips nearly hitting the back of your throat while his cock hit nearly every right spot inside of you, due to the angle he had bent you at. You looked up at the mirror again and knew for certain that your makeup was ruined.

"Fuck... Your pussy feels like it was made for me..." he groaned, pushing his fingers into your mouth a tiny bit deeper than before, making you choke at the feeling, your eyes nearly rolling back into their sockets and your head hanging slightly lower.

Klitz noticed this and snickered softly to himself before reaching up and threading the hand the other hand that was placed possessively at your hip into your hair, tugging at it and pulling your head back up so you could face the mirror and look at both yours and his reflections at the same time, the sight sending a spark of arousal through your veins.

"Aw, baby," he teased, "look at you, so pretty, so messy... God, I love looking at you." you moaned at his words, finding the way that he was talking to you both patronizing and also incredibly arousing.

You wanted to speak, to say something back in return, but your mind was so muddled from it all, the only coherent thought that came to your brain was of how deep his cock felt inside of you, that you let out mindless babbles and gibberish.

"Oh sweetie, I haven't even been going that hard and your brain's getting all dumb on me," he shook his head and chuckled, "and here I was, thinking my girlfriend was a smart girl, but all it takes is a bit of my cock, and you're already turning into a mindless cumdump. Is that what you want to be known as? Just a stupid little slut who goes around drinking too much and flirting with other guys?"

"I... Uh, I- fuck... Please..." you whimpered, trying to get ahold of your words, but they just wouldn't come out the way that you wanted to. Klitz sighed and chuckled again as he picked up the pace again, nearly making you cry.

"You... You... You what, baby? C'mon, spit it out. I know you can, yeah?" he taunted you again, reaching down and rubbing at your puffy, little clit with his thick fingers, the feeling enough to send shivers down your spine.

"Y-you're right... 'm so dumb, Klitzy... Being so stupid..." you told him, the words already replaying on a loop through your mind like a broken record.

"And, what else are you, huh? C'mon..." Klitz encouraged you, massaging your sensitive bundle of nerves with a bit more pressure applied to it, now.

"I'm a mindless cumdump... All for you..." you still could barely think, on account of being so inebriated by his cock. He smiled, kissing the top of your head, "That's right, baby. You're such a good girl, baby. I'm proud of you for admitting it..."

Something about the mix of his words, the marks he left on your neck, and his fingers on your clit made the knot in your stomach get tighter as your walls clenched harder around his cock, making him groan.

"Fuck... You're so close, I can feel it. You wanna come for me, baby?" he whispered, kissing your cheek as you like at the both of you in the mirror. You nodded, tears now practically streaming down your cheeks, "Please..."

"Hmm... I dunno, how about you beg for it, pretty girl?" he requested, now having stopped both his thrusts and his movements on your clit altogether, making you sob.

"Please, please... I need it, I need you so bad... Please, Daddy, please..." you cried, your hips bucking desperately into his hand. You hadn't even realized what you said, having said all of this in the heat of the moment, but Klitz realized, and he also realized that he really, really liked hearing those words come out of your mouth.

"Say it, again."

"Daddy, please... I wanna come so badly..." you begged again, making him more satisfied and letting his thrusts resume. You nearly screamed until you went hoarse at the feeling, your legs shaking so much, you thought that you'd fall over.

Suddenly, like a tidal wave or like a car collision, your orgasm crashed through you all at once, making your eyes roll back as you trembled in his grasp and moaned loud enough for the whole party downstairs to potentially hear the two of you. Klitz then almost immediately followed after you, groaning loudly as he came, too, his cum now dripping down your thighs as he released inside of you.

After a moment of the two of you just standing there, panting as you both came down from your respective highs, he pulled out of you, putting himself back into his jeans before pulling your panties back up, so that the stickiness of his cum stayed against your cunt.

"My pretty baby..." he whispered in your ear as he kissed you all over your face.

#paul dano #the riddler x reader #the riddler smut #danonation #the batman #danocel #jay okja #klitz x reader #percy dolarhyde #joby taylor #klitz the girl next door #thaddius #dwayne hoover #seth looper #klitz smut

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sosigbb · 5 months

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WIP back to my stinky brainrot phase again

#paul dano #danonation #percy dolarhyde #i dont even like him #but hear me out

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spookyspiderboiii · 2 years

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Paul Dano: *plays a greasy weirdo*

me:

#paul dano #danonation #edward nashton #the riddler #dwayne hoover #percy dolarhyde #klitz the girl next door #eli sunday #calvin weir fields #jay okja

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kannibaleherzen · 1 year

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I have Disneyland on my mind, so I wrote some headcannons about Dano characters and their favorite attractions at the Disneyland Resort! No surprises, SFW fluff. All these guys under the cut. ♡

I made the graphic on my phone so it sucks.

Additions of Burt Fabelman and Louis Ives are also included! ♡♡♡♡♡

Dwayne Hoover: He wants to be a pilot, and in fact can be at Disneyland! He absolutely loves and will fight to get the pilot position every time at Millennium Falcon: Smuggler's Run. Dwayne has tried and once successfully gotten your ride crew to activate Chewy mode. If cast would let him, he could pilot both positions alone, but they can't and won't. Dwayne also always gets excited about Soarin' Around the World. He is mesmerized by the indoor portion of the queue with all the pilots on the walls and reads them every time.

Lucas: This sweet boy is into Fantasyland. The traditional King Arthur's Carrousel, Dumbo the Flying Elephant, and Snow White's Enchanted Wish. He could spend all day in Fantasyland if you let him. In the evening, he loves getting a good spot for fireworks that start at 9:00. About 40 minutes before, he wades through the crowd to get a churro for you two to share when it starts. It takes forever to even get the churro, so you two always cherish that moment.

Pierre Bezukhov: A Fantasyland man as well. Alice in Wonderland, Mad Tea Party, then Matterhorn Bobsleds in that order before anything else in the park. Unlike Calvin who uses connections, Pierre is a member of Club 33, and will take you to the 1901 Lounge at the Carthay Circle instead because he thinks it's classier and the drinks are better there. Once sufficiently drunk and fed, he loves to go watch Mickey's PhilharMagic.

Jay: Rise of the Resistance isn't just a ride, it's a full experience. Jay will wait however long it takes to get through the queue and on. He loves the scene with the Stormtroopers and hopes one day he can recruit more ALF members to have a big enough fleet like that to save more animals. When it's over, he always takes time to chat with cast members about the cats that live back there. How are they? When do they get food left for them? When were they spayed or neutered? And so forth.

Percy Dolarhyde: In typical fashion, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. The best part to him is the hill climb with explosions. Percy won't admit it, but he also has a soft spot for The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. His favorite part is looking up and behind to catch a glimpse of the old Country Bears Jamboree that used to occupy the space.

Calvin Weir-Fields: You will be dragged to Pirates of the Caribbean by him. He wants the redhead! It's no surprise he does the same right after for Roger Rabbit's CarToon Spin. Calvin loves the queue spot where he can knock on Jessica Rabbit's door and say Walt sent him. Once done there, he must go on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. Because in the end, you go to hell. He uses connections to get into Club 33 for a romantic dinner after putting up with him.

Alex Jones: Cars Land. Just... All of it. The first time he sets foot, he is in love. Why wouldn't he be? The themeing of Radiator Springs is perfect! Alex loves doing finger guns and shouts Lightning McQueen's "Ka'chow!" for the photo on Radiator Springs Racers. When on Luigi's Rocking Roadsters, he loves the circles at the end of the song and puts his arms up (as is the custom). He always needs a pic with Mater.

Eli Sunday: The higher the ride, the closer to God. Eli is pretty traditional when it comes to rides, and loves the Pixar Pal Around. He does not go in the regular gondola, but the swinging one. He is just a touch crazy after all. Eli also likes the Disneyland Railroad, but scoffs at the dinosaur scene between Tomorrowland and Mainstreet U.S.A. believing they've never existed.

Hank Thompson: He's just so excited about everything. Hank absolutely must go to Adventureland first to ride Indiana Jones Adventure. A Spielberg movie brought to life! He always hopes to get the driver's seat because it's the best. Hank never looks into the eyes of Mara! After is a trip on Jungle Cruise, and always laughs at the skipper's jokes. He loves getting bao from the Tropical Hideaway. When visiting DCA, he must go on Grizzly River Run and say hi to Francisco the cat who lives near the queue.

Timothy Klitz: Klitz just wants to cuddle with you anywhere and everywhere. It's a Small World is the best for doing so. A good 15 minute boat ride with an albeit slightly grating song is good enough. He loves The Haunted Mansion for the same reason. Any slow, dark ride where you can feed each other popcorn is best. To get in and out of the park, he enjoys taking the Monorail from Downtown Disney.

Edward Nashton: You ever see an impossibly high score on a game? Higher than the cast members who work the ride, Edward is the champ! Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters is where it's at for Eddie! He gets so immersed in it that he forgets there's a photo and he always looks so determined, hunched over reaching out with the blaster in hand. He also goes crazy competitive on Toy Story: Midway Mania and always gets the tippiest of top scores to your amazement.

Joby Taylor: First, you need to beg, plead, and bribe him to even set foot on property. They serve alcohol is the line that gets him. Joby is so not into the no smoking unless outside security, but can stand it for a day. Just for you. Beer in hand, you force him in line for Guardians of the Galaxy: Mission Breakout! He downs the beer, gets on, then once your ride plays Born to be Wild by Steppenwolf, he is hooked.

Burt Fabelman: He worked for GE! Keeping to the time period, he adores the Carousel of Progress in Tomorrowland. He feels so proud of what he does now and what the future holds. He has to see the show first! Tomorrowland is where he feels happiest (People Mover!), but also is down for a round in the Enchanted Tiki Room, and Mark Twain's River Boat, too.

Louis Ives: A bit of a traditionalist. He adores the fact the carousel horses are authentic antiques. Any time Mary Poppins and Burt are on it as well, he gets giddy and will watch and wave at them! Louis adores Storybook Land, even if it's filled with the youngest of guests. When it comes to dining, Louis somehow always manages to score a coveted reservation to the Blue Bayou. Every. Single. Trip. He won't share his secret on how he does it, but if you had to guess, he knows a cast member.

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danosrosegarden · 7 months

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calling shots - percy dolarhyde x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{kinktober: day eight. prompt: brat taming. 🎃}

{contains: switchy/rough penetrative sex (genitals/gender not specified), mild hair pulling, male masturbation, and orgasm denial.}

☽ Maybe you really did hate Percy. Maybe some smoldering, angry bricks of burning hot enmity were aflame in the deep, dank cave of your heart. He was just so fucking aggravating...that stupid, smug smirk of his lit a fire in your belly that licked at your guts and made you tremble with rage.

☽ Perhaps what got under your skin the most was when he decided to poke fun at you and prod at your weak spots; it was always when you had stripped bare for him and somehow, once again, found yourself on all fours. You cursed yourself, stamped on your own foot thinking about all the times you'd let him get away with calling you his good little whore, his pretty little slut, simply offering a laughable moan in response to his acid-laced jabs.

☽ Maybe he'd chuckle at first when you finally got the courage one night to pin his wrists down and growl in his ear. I've had just about enough of your disrespect, Dolarhyde. But don't think for a second that a shockwave of red-hot realization didn't just coarse through his body...he likes seeing you put up a racket, try your hand at taking control. He can't let you know that, though, and he's flipping you back under him, leaving you to squirm under his tight grip.

☽ "That's cute, darlin'. But I think you're forgettin' who's callin' shots here."

☽ You won't give up without a fight, though it's difficult to claim dominance when he's pounding into you. It's not your fault it's so hard to bite back your mewls when he's the one slamming against your sweet spot, kissing it with rough thrusts over and over until your eyes were rolling back into your head.

☽ "F-fuckin' can't stand you." The words dribbled from your mouth like drool, a sloppy, jumbled mess.

☽ You whine when he suddenly stops thrusting and gives the roots of your hair a harsh tug. "Say sorry." "Go to hell." You almost laugh at how instant the retort came spitting out from your gritted teeth.

☽ He lets go of your hair and sends you back with a tumbling shove. "That's all you're getting from me, then. Ain't takin' your shit tonight, I can help myself." And he does, his big, tanned hand reaching down to give himself strong, steady pumps.

☽ If you had the energy, you'd swat his hand away, push him down, and ride him until he was arching and pleading to finish inside you. But you'd already gotten a sweet, juicy taste of the rugged bliss of him inside of you; damned if you weren't going to finish around him, make him quiver and whimper as you tighten up and dig your nails into his back. The only way to capture what you wanted was to surrender.

☽ "I'm sorry," you mumbled. Percy's hand ceased pumping as he looked up and cocked a brow. "What was that?"

☽ "I said I'm sorry," you said louder, the frustration bubbling in your gut just as the warm knot of pleasure began sizzling inside of you once more. "I'm your good little whore, Perc, your pretty little slut. Just fuck me, damn it!"

☽ There it was...that condescending smirk spread wide across his face. "My pretty little slut, huh? Prove it." He stalks over to you. Maybe it was fun to fight back, but it was a thrilling, breath-snatching, hair-raising blast to accept your fate as putty in his hands.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #percy dolarhyde #cowboys and aliens #percy dolarhyde x reader #percy dolarhyde x you #percy dolarhyde x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 23

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babybluebex · 2 years

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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 | 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | when percy is returned to earth, he doesn’t remember his father, his friends, or you. you’re tasked with reminding your husband of all the memories he lost. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | percy dolarhyde (cowboys and aliens, 2011) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut— fingering (f!receiving), slight dom!percy, pain kink, breeding kink, housewife kink (kinda), creampie, reunion sex, mentions of arranged marriage, reader and percy have a history of fighting, memory loss 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | this is @mustyrosewater‘s fault blame her but also *pushes hair behind ear* hey percy what’s up // taglist blog: @cremebruhleewrites

“Percy!” you cried, searching the crowd of lethargic people for him. Colonel Dolarhyde led the way, and, the moment you saw your husband, you couldn’t help the cry that left your throat. He looked exhausted, his several-day ordeal having been taxing, no doubt, covered in dirt and grime, blood dried by his ears. Those big green eyes of his were blown out to almost nothing, his hair curled behind his ears. Your poor Perce had been through a lot, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running to him and hugging him tightly. “Jesus, honey, I thought I lost you!” You nestled your head under his chin and, even though he stunk something awful, you didn’t want to let go. Percy was safe, Percy was alive, and Percy was home.

His arms went around you, his grip strong but almost hesitant, as if he were afraid that you would disappear if he moved too fast. You didn’t even want to think about the nasty things you had said to him when you saw him last, the night he was taken up into that odd ship in the sky. You had stood outside his cell at the sheriff’s department and berated him for his foolhardy actions with the gun that day, and he had fought back, as always. You had never really liked Percy; you had grown up in Absolution, Arizona, the smallest of small towns, only alive because of Colonel Dolarhyde’s cattle route, and you had learned several months prior that you were engaged to the colonel’s son, whether you wanted to be or not. Back then, you absolutely hated Percy. He was annoying, entitled, and he thought that he was better than everybody else in Absolution, and he didn’t have any issue with reminding you of it. It seemed as if Percy was equally tolerant of the marriage as you were, not even bothering to show up to the small ceremony that your father had negotiated. Instead, you found him at the saloon, already drunk. That night was your very first fight, the first of many. Percy tried to act as if he intended to come to the wedding but had gotten the time wrong, and you didn’t believe him for a second. “Just admit to me that you don’t care enough about me to even pretend to wanna be married!” you told him.

“Maybe I don’t!” Percy told you, his words slurred together. “Maybe I don’t wanna be married, ya think of that? I’m ‘bout as happy about this as you are, and, y’know, if there’s some way I could manage my way outta this, I’d do it! Being married to a bitch like you ain’t gonna prolong my life!”

That night was also the first night you laid with Percy. Somewhere during the night and during your yelling, you and Percy moved closer and closer and closer to each other until you were chest-to-chest, nose-to-nose, and the heat radiating off of his chest was too powerful to resist. You grabbed him by his cravat (silk, of course bought for him by his father) and dragged him into a kiss, and he instantly grabbed your face and kissed back. He tasted like whisky, and his body was hot as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground to wrap your legs around his waist. The bed squeaked as Percy tossed you down, and he hurried to unbutton your dress and expose your skin to him. You had never been around a man who seemed like such an animal, and Percy fit the bill as he pulled off your dress and petticoats to reach your body. You hardly had time to unbutton Percy’s pants before he was turning you around and running his fingers along your cunt. “Look at that,” he laughed, biting at the skin of your neck. “Little whore’s all ready for me, even though you’re mad. Are ya really mad, darlin’, or are ya just pretendin’?”

“Shut up,” you told him, reaching behind you and digging your nails into the skin of his hip. He winced, biting harder at your neck, and you added, “Are you gonna fuck me or not, Percy?”

Percy laughed again. “Pretty girl using naughty words,” he said. “I like when my women get a little frisky, gets me all hot up under my collar. You wanna ask again? Nicer this time, though, Missus Dolarhyde.”

“God, just fuck me!” you cried, and his hand slammed over your mouth to keep you quiet as he pushed his hard cock into you. “Can’t fucking believe I’m letting you fuck me,” you added, muffled by his palm.

“Oh, believe it, darlin’,” Percy laughed. “God, your pussy feels so good, at least your father was right when he promised me a virgin.” And so, Percy fucked you, moaning into your neck and marking your skin with his teeth, and he apologized to you once you were leaking cum, both yours and his. “M’sorry,” he mumbled, laying with you on the bed and pushing your hair out of your face. “Maybe I didn’t care too much ‘bout gettin’ married, but you proved me wrong. I’ll love ya, darlin’, just as much as I can manage.” Then, his words from before finally sank in, and you sat up, pushing him away.

“My father promised me to you?” you repeated. “You knew about this from the start, you lied to me!”

But, as much as you fought and made up and fought again, you did love Percy. When he wasn’t drunk or acting like a damn fool, he was a good husband. His father’s wealth kept you well-fed and dressed, and Percy would bring you flowers when he came home in the evenings. He would wrap his arms around you as you made dinner and softly inquire about your day, and he would snuffle at your neck like a dog to make you laugh. Of course, the domestic nights were few and far between, and you typically spent your nights getting Percy out of whatever trouble he had found himself in, and then berating him for getting into trouble in the first place. Those nights, you followed your routine: you two would fight, then make angry, furious love, and then quietly promise each other to never fight again, until the next time Percy did something bad.

That’s why tears pricked at your eyes as Percy’s hug grew tighter and more confident around you, and you whispered, “Oh, thank God, Perce.”

Percy finally let you go, and his warm hand came up to cup your cheek, the way he always did before he kissed you. But he looked confused, like it was his first time making the movement. “Percy?” you whispered. “Honey, answer me, is something wrong?”

“Wh…” your husband began, his wife eyes flicking to his pa, then back to you. His pale cheeks grew red as he looked at you, never lifting his eyes from your mouth, and he finally said, “Who’re you?”

You sniffled as you laughed. “You and your jokes,” you whispered as you shook your head. “Now’s not the time, though, honey, are you hurt?”

“No,” Percy began. His voice was the same but slow and mumbling, like he was struggling to speak, and he said, “I don’t rem’mber much.. Who’re you?”

Percy was ravenous once you got him home, and he ate just about everything in your house. The house was small, but it was yours, and you sat at the dinner table as Percy ate. You watched him anxiously, hoping that something about the house— the smell of it, the look of the bed, the flowers on the counter or the pictures on the wall— would spark his memory, but he seemed wholly unaffected. “Thank you,” he mumbled once he was finished with his food, and you sighed.

“Perce,” you whispered, and you reached out for his hand. “Do you remember anything now?”

Your husband looked around the tiny one-room home, and he slowly shook his head. “I feel like I should,” he said. “Being home, but… But I can’t.” You sighed heavily, your chin wobbling as you held back tears, and Percy squeezed your hand. “I-I know I love you. I don’t gotta remember that, I already knew that. I know you’re my wife, but I don’t remember how we met or nothing.”

You pursed your lips, and you let your hand fall from Percy’s grip. “We were children,” you told him. “All the children in Absolution went to this one schoolhouse, and you were sat on the other side of the aisle from me. The-The boys were separated from the girls back then, probably for good reason. You… You used to tug on my braids and laugh at me when I got mad. My momma used to tell me it was because you liked me, and I guess, y’know… That’s true.”

“I’ve always liked you?” Percy asked.

“Apparently so,” you said, and Percy laughed softly.

“You are really pretty,” Percy told you. “How did I start courting you?”

“You really didn’t,” you shrugged. “Umm, I was told that our fathers arranged a marriage between us, but I later found out that…That you lied to me, and you were part of making the arrangements from the beginning.”

“Oh,” Percy mumbled. His thin eyebrows wrinkled together as he thought, and he said, “Am I usually like that? Lyin’ to you and all?”

You wanted to deny him and tell him no, but he deserved to know the truth. “Yes,” you said, and you watched his face fall. “You very regularly lie to me, yell at me, disrespect me… We fight a lot, nearly every day.”

“Oh, God,” Percy mumbled. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I’m sure I don’t mean it.”

You shrugged. “We just don’t like each other,” you told him. “It’s not a big deal, my mom and dad didn’t like each other either.”

“It shouldn’t be that way, though,” Percy said. “I mean, I must’a wanted to marry ya for some reason. There’s no way I just plain don’t like ya.”

You tried not to dwell on it for too long. You stood up and started to gather dishes, just as you did every night, but Percy stopped you. “Sit down,” he told you. “You’ve been runnin’ ‘round all day, I’ll do this.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I-I usually do that.”

“Sounds like I’m a shit-poor husband,” Percy chuckled lightly, but you could tell he was in his head about it. “I don’t do nothin’ ‘round the house?”

“Sometimes you help me clean,” you said with a shrug. “You keep me company while I cook… Even though you’re just mostly in my way.” You smiled at your poor attempt at a joke, and then said, “You’re just never really around to do stuff for me.”

“Well, where the hell am I at, if not here?” Percy asked. He transferred all the dishes to the small washtub you had next to the stove, and he pulled up his pants a bit before he knelt down and gathered the slim bar of soap. It was a sight you had never seen before, and the thought that it was so unlike the Percy you knew brought tears to your eyes. However, when Percy heard your sniffles, he undoubtedly thought that the question was the cause of your distress. “Oh, little darlin’, please don’t cry, I don’t wanna make you cry.”

“You’re always at that damn saloon!” you sobbed finally, and Percy dropped the bar of soap into the water and came to your side, kneeling in front of you and resting his forehead against your knee. You had helped him wash all the blood and grime off of himself when you first got home, and his dark ginger hair was still drying, and it was damp to the touch when you carded your fingers through his hair. “And that’s why we fight, you come home drunk and you don’t give a damn ‘bout our home or ‘bout me… ‘Bout nothing!”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said softly. He looked up at you from his place on the floor, his big green eyes wet with tears, and he mumbled, “I-I remember something.”

“What is it?” you sniffled, and you hurried to wipe your cheeks dry. “What do you remember, honey?”

“I remember you sittin’ here, crying,” Percy started. “I don’t remember what about, but I was standin’ over there—” Percy gestured across the house, next to the bed, “And I was just… Bein’ plum awful to you. Callin’ ya names, accusing’ ya of being with other men… Jesus, I’m sorry. I don’t ever wanna make you feel bad like this again. I hate seein’ ya cry, baby, can you give me a smile?” His hands smoothed up your leg, pushing your skirt and petticoats just a little high to expose your knee, and he gently kissed your knee, covered by your cotton stocking. “What do I gotta do to see that smile?”

You were afraid to ask. Typically, that sort of request got you a laugh and a drunken “Fuckin’ do it yourself, slut”, and your heart hurt at the idea that this new Percy would react the same way as he used to. But you knew he wouldn’t, there was no way he could. “Will you…” you started, and you shook your head. It was too intimidating to even ask, even though he was your husband.

“Will I what, baby?” Percy asked. “What do you want? I’ll do anything to see your smile.”

“Just give me a kiss,” you said, even though that’s nowhere close to what you really wanted from him. “That’s all I want.”

Percy rose to his knees to reach your face, and his big, warm hands cupped your cheeks. Without a word of complaint, Percy leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, and you threw your arms around him and kissed back. It had been so long since Percy had just kissed you, and the feeling of his warm mouth was a better feeling that you could have ever remembered. Your dear husband was there, and he wasn’t ever going to leave. It warmed your heart, and you sniffled as you pulled away from his kiss. “Thank you, Percy,” you whispered, and you gently touched his face, smoothing your thumb down his cheek.

“When’s the last time I made love to you?” Percy asked. His hands lightly touched your knees and almost threatened to go higher, his forefinger and thumb capturing the edge of your dress.

“I think it was the night before you were taken,” you said. “You were drunk, and we fought, and we always made up by fuckin’.”

“No, no,” Percy said, shaking his head. “Proper made love to you? All nice and shit, the way you deserve to be treated. When was that?”

You had to think. You and Percy had been married for about a year, and you couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t drunk while you had sex. “Never, I think,” you said. “You were always drunk.”

“Always?” Percy repeated, and you nodded. “But not the first time, though, right?”

“Even the first time,” you said through your nod, and Percy looked off to the side. He obviously was holding back words, no doubt at his state as a husband, and he finally sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he told you firmly. “Ya hear me? I am sorry for the shit I’ve done to you, and I will be better for you. I’ve gotta be, what sorta man am I if I don't love you right? I promise you that I’ll do better.”

Percy’s fingers still played with your dress, and you leaned forward to meet him in a kiss again. He did more this time, though, his arms going around you and lifting you up to embrace him. He broke the kiss to bury his face in your neck, and he laid quick, hurried kisses to the skin that peaked above your collar. You could tell that he wanted to right all of his wrongs, this one included, and you carefully pushed him away in order to see his pretty face. Percy truly was beautiful, his high cheekbones and plump mouth all so inviting, and you whispered, “Percy, will you make love to me?”

Percy smiled, his blinking slow and pleased, and he said, “I was waiting for you to ask, darlin’.” He captured you in his arms again, and he pulled you back to him to kiss him. The kiss this time was messy and unbridled, your husband’s brutish animal side coming through. His arms were nice and tight around you as his tongue sneaked between your lips, and you couldn’t help but break the kiss to smile and giggle. “What’s so funny, darlin’?” Percy asked, setting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You haven’t kissed me like this in a long time,” you told him, and Percy’s muddy green eyes twinkled as he lifted you up into his grip. He carried you nicely to the bed, just big enough for the two of you on the nights that Percy actually came home to sleep.

He set you down, the springs of the bed creaking underneath you, and he said, “All the more reason to do it, then.” Percy kissed you again, his warm hands sliding up your legs, and he began to roll down your stockings from your leg. His kisses moved from your mouth to your neck, and he abandoned your stockings to undo the buttons on your dress. His teeth nipped at your neck as he worked to unclothe you, and you helped him when his fingers struggled with the small buttons. Percy smiled into your neck, and he said, “I remember something.”

You gasped, and pulled his head from your neck, and you quickly asked, “What? What do you remember?”

“I remember…” Percy began, and he settled his face back in your neck, and he began to make little grunts and sniffles into your neck, biting and swiping his nose against your skin. He was doing his snuffling routine that always made you laugh and, just like before, you giggled and batted at his head playfully. “I remember ya liked that.”

“I do,” you told him. “It’s just funny.”

“Ya like it when I kiss your neck?” Percy asked, and his playful snuffles turned into nice kisses, his mouth open and his tongue laving your warm skin. A soft moan slipped from your mouth and you carded your fingers through Percy’s long hair and tugged as his teeth joined. You knew he was making little marks on your neck as he bit at you, but you just couldn’t tell him to stop.

Percy resumed his job of undressing you, working quickly to expose your bare skin to him, and your fingers rejoined his. Soon, your dress was loose enough to shuck down your body, and Percy kissed your skin the whole way down, every inch of flesh exposed to him being lavished by his tongue. “You taste good…” Percy mumbled against your breasts, and he carefully took your nipple between his front teeth. The sting of it made you gasp, but he soothed the sting with his warm tongue, and you moaned. “Sound good, too.”

You went to his clothes, unbuttoning his vest and shirt and pants, and you hurried to get him naked. Every inch of Percy was beautiful, and you hooked your legs around his waist once he was finally bare to you. His cock was hard, a sight for your sore, aroused eyes, and you dragged him into a messy and hurried kiss, all teeth and tongue. Your husband didn’t stop his hungry hands from feeling all over you, and you finally cried out when his fingers brushed your wet cunt. Your skin throbbed at his touch, and Percy smiled into your mouth.

“Ya miss me that much?” Percy chuckled. “All wet from the sight’a me, what a good little wife.”

You could tell that Percy was in no mood to take his time, and neither were you, so you were glad when Percy quickly pulled your legs open and spit down onto your cunt. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Gonna take my cock, sweet thing.”

“Percy,” you whimpered. Your hands touched his chest, feeling the sparse hair he had there, and you whined out, “Fuck me, Percy, please.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” Percy chuckled, and you smiled. Each passing second, he was becoming more and more like his old self, but the version of him that you liked, the version that brought you flowers and held you as you slept and cracked jokes. You remembered the old Percy loving it when you cursed, and it seemed that the new Percy liked it as well.

Percy held his cock in his hand and guided himself between your slick folds, and the stretch of your body around his thick, heavy cock had you moaning and letting your head fall back. Percy fixated on your neck again, kissing your skin and sinking his teeth into your flesh, and he slowly filled you with his cock. Every inch made you feel more lightheaded, and you grabbed at every part of him you could reach to urge him further in. Your fingers greedily claimed his hips and his shoulders and you kissed him the whole time. Your fingernails dug into his taut ass, his muscles flexing as he started to fuck into you, and he hissed through his teeth at the pain. You began to pull away, but Percy’s big hand grabbed you by the throat. “I didn’t tell ya to quit,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I-I thought it hurt,” you mumbled, and Percy’s hand squeezed your throat just enough for you to gasp. The feeling of your blood pulsing in your ears heightened the throbbing of your slick walls, and you could suddenly feel every inch of Percy’s rigid cock, splitting you open.

“It did,” he said. “But I ain’t say stop. Scratch me up all you want, little darlin’; I marked up your neck enough, you can do that.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, and your hands flew up to your neck. You could already feel the tender skin bruising from his teeth and lips, and you added, “Your father’s gonna see that.”

“Fuck him,” Percy whispered. Swiftly, he situated a hand under your thighs, and he lifted your legs up, opening you up completely to him. “Been wantin’ to do this to ya for ages.”

“Do what?” you asked.

“Give you my baby,” Percy whispered on an exhale, grunting as he fucked you hard. The bed hit the wall with every aggravated thrust, and you dug your fingernails into his shoulders and back as you moaned. “Fuck, darlin’, comin’ home and seeing ya all big with my baby… Been waitin’ for me, making dinner, greetin’ me with a big kiss, lettin’ me feel him kick inside ya… I remember dreamin’ ‘bout this.”

“Oh, Percy,” you cooed. “You remembered something else!”

“It’s funny,” Percy began. “The longer I’m inside you, the more I’m rememberin’. Like, I remember wanting to have a son.”

“A son,” you echoed, and you pulled him into a gentle kiss. “I wanna give you a son, Percy. I’d love to do that.”

That seemed to renew some of Percy’s vigour, because his thrusts grew quicker and his grip tighter on your thighs. “M’gonna fuck ya so good,” Percy mumbled lowly, almost to himself. “And nine months from now, you’ll gimme that son we want.”

“I’ll give you everything you want,” you whispered to him, breathless from you nearing orgasm.

“I ain’t need everything,” Percy told you. You felt his cock throbbing inside you, threatening to spill at any moment, and you felt that familiar tingle in your own belly and legs. “I only need you, darlin’.”

“Percy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered frantically, scratching down his back. Your husband groaned at the pain and hung his head, and you pushed his hair from his eyes as his thrusts became sloppy and uneven, each second growing closer and closer to his release. “Percy—”

“Come on, girl,” he huffed. “You can do it, fuckin’ cum for me. Cum for your husband.”

Your hands fell from his marked back and onto the bed, and you gripped the bedsheets for dear life as Percy fucked you. You didn’t feel like you were in control of your own body as your back arched up, and the hot fire in your belly dissipated as you came. It felt like heaven, and you felt Percy’s warm hand capture your face before he kissed you. The kiss was soft, not greedy or wanting anymore, and Percy gave a high, strangled moan into your mouth as he too finished. He stilled for just a moment, letting the feeling of it wash over him, and you felt his pulse heighten, his cock throbbing inside you.

After a moment’s respite, Percy began to weakly fuck into you, and the wet sound of it made your face burn in shame and a latent arousal. “Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispered against your lips, and he kissed you again. He hissed at the overstimulation on his cock, and you shushed him gently as you pulled him down to you, helping him lay down. Still inside you, he let his full weight settle on top of you, and you brushed back his hair and kissed the side of his face.

“Thank you, Perce,” you whispered. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“I remember something else,” Percy whispered in your ear.

“Oh yeah?” you asked. “What is it?”

“I love you,” he told you. “I’ve never been good at showin’ it, and I’m not sure if I’ll get better, but I love you. The story you told me, how I used to pull your hair and your momma said it was because I liked you…” Playfully, he took a few tendrils of your hair and tugged at them, and you laughed. “She was right. I’ve loved you since before I knew what love was. Please don’t you go forgettin’ that.”

“I won’t, baby,” you told him. “I never could.”

#percy dolarhyde #percy dolarhyde x reader #percy dolarhyde smut #paul dano #paul dano x reader #paul dano smut #cowboys and aliens #truly an abysmal movie #but one of the best paul looks

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cercandodiscrivere · 11 months

Text

Spite like a spark | percy dolarhyde x reader

word count | 2.9K

warnings | 18+, NSFW, prostitution, boot kink, sweet sweet revenge, porn with too much plot. I abused all the old cowboy slang I could find online and it shows.

synopsis | In Absolution, privilege had the face of Percy Dolarhyde […]. He had never appeared attractive to you until you finally found a way to have him on his knees.

gifs by @riddlersbimbo

Men had to be the most creative of the two sexes, and the many names your particular line of work had inspired them could be taken as testament to that.

Daughters of sin.

Painted cats.

Scarlet ladies.

Someone once had called you “nymph du prairie” and the girls had not stopped laughing for a good while.

You had found it fitting in a way.

Not that you saw yourself as a magical river creature – but you were an often-naked maiden working in a brothel, and that could almost come close as a siren luring men in a mythical lake if one squinted hard enough. You even had bathtubs!

It sounded like a preferable option to soiled doves, anyway. Or the old plain whore.

Not that you complained much: it was a job as good as any other. If you ignored the customers and focused on the gain, it could almost be considered a better perspective than most.

Men could also be tedious.

You had almost seen it all – the ones that were far too sure of themselves, the scamps, the timid one-of-a-time clients, the devoted patrons who liked to think themselves in love with your co-workers.

The sweet ones tended to disappear after marriage.

So, all in all, that’s what you expected that evening: a man covered in dirt, in desperate need for a good scrub and an even better night of amusement.

What you had not anticipated was for your past to knock at your door. Not that far from your hometown, not after all the time that had passed.

“Need some company, sweetie?”.

“Sweetie! Sweets!” a shout, followed by the loud thud of something heavy hitting the floor. “Don’t be so cruel María, look at poor James!”.

Another round of laughs erupted, rough and agitated.

Earlier in the evening, a group of men – all drunk, all smelling of cheap liquor and sweat – had entered the saloon. Doc had given them one of the tables farthest from the counter, in the hopes that putting some distance between the loud clients and the bottles on the shelves could deter them from asking more than one pint.

“Lord knows someone should tell them to cut it” he had commented, but you knew that he wouldn’t be the one to stop the men’s fun.

In Absolution, privilege had the face of Percy Dolarhyde: if he wanted beer for himself and his cronies, Doc would serve it without much of a fuss. If he asked for whiskey, the finest in the house would be poured straight in his glass – and it didn’t matter that the brat could afford all the ace-high products no matter the cost: by the end of the night, his pouch would be full and Doc’s shelves would be emptied.

His pa’ was the big bug in town, and Percy merely filled the role of the selfish deadbit. Ten years younger than the rest of his thugs, he still managed to command their every move with the jingle of his gold.

“Another drink bird, just one more!”.

On nights like those, María would whisk you to the back of the saloon to clean and sweep and mop the floors until the group had left. You were too young to know how to handle a group of grown ass men. “They’re full as thick” she would say. “Better not to deal with the likes of them”.

That night though, the loud thud had attracted your attention. Tentative, mop still clutched between your fingers, you had ventured at the front of the counter to see what was going on. There was enough time to steal a quick peek at that boy – the one who wasn’t that much older than you, but still held a power over the people in Absolution that you could only wish of possessing.

“Oh! You, little birdie! Fetch me a whiskey!”.

Too late.

Years had passed, but he still looked the same.

No amount of poorly-kept beard could alter Percy Dolarhyde's appearance, it seemed: he had grown into a man with the same young, round face. He could almost look innocent if one didn’t know better.

“Sure. Are you liking your whiskey, mister?” you answered – more out of habit than genuine interest. His presence still made you tense, as if you were transported back in the past, nothing but a little inexperienced girl with a mop in her hands once again.

“Fine as cream gravy, but not as much as you”.

He did not look drunk. In your memories, Dolarhyde always seemed trapped in a perpetual beer-induced stupor. Nose reddened by the amount of alcohol in his guts, thick sweat coating his forehead.

This version of him was not the cleanliest by any mean, but he seemed sober. Subdued, even.

“All that soft solder won't get you anywhere”.

“What about gold? Would that bring me somewhere?”. Ah. The old ruse resurfaced.

You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, after all.

Lord knew he was already half seas over.

María had shot a sour look in his direction, but she was too far to take your place – not that she wouldn’t have tried, if one of the other clients hadn’t reclaimed her full attention. Unlikable as he managed to be, Dolarhyde wasn’t the only troublemaker in town.

“Is she slow or something?”.

Someone barked a laugh. “She must be. Girl? Whiskey?”.

You had looked at Doc, unsure on what to do, but he (always the obsequious type) had already placed a whole bottle on the tray along with clean glasses.

“Go. It’s fine”.

It was a standard rule for all the customers to bathe upon arrival.

The establishment that had been your home for the last couple of years was a fine one: good liquor, flush clientele, eleven of the best dressed fallen girls a cowboy could encounter during his travels.

If his dollars wouldn’t have convinced you to invite Percy back into your room (you had fought teeth and nail to get a nice one), then curiosity would have done the trick.

He had not recognized you, that much was clear. No matter how sober and gentle he appeared nowadays, he still did not strike you as the type prone to pretend to forget someone - not if the act could be considered a nicety.

In truth, you couldn’t even remember what had distracted you. Maybe the twirling couples dancing around the saloon to the vivacious music, or perhaps just the nerves of serving this type of customer for the first time.

All you knew was that the moment before you had been walking away from the counter, tray balanced in both of your hands – and the one after you were on all fours on the ground, Dolarhyde furious screams filling your ears.

“You ruined my new boots!”.

Shards of glass surrounded your hunched form, the alcohol once contained in the bottle now creating a dark sticky pool on the wooden floor. “She ruined my new boots!” Percy had screamed again, this time shoving one of his galoshes right in front of your face. Some of the whiskey had splashed on the leather – but the material was already so crusted with dirt and mud that the wet smudge was almost invisible.

Unaffected by the scene unfolding in your little corner of the room, the musician never stopped playing his piano, the cheerful sound cutting through the thick fog that clouded your mind as to mock you: maybe that was the reason why, even later in your life, you couldn’t bear to hear a single note of that particular jingle.

He had taken his boots off to enter the bathtub.

Of course – it would have been odd, to bathe as naked as the day he was born except for the boots – but your mind still stuck on that useless detail.

“The water is perfect” Dolarhyde mused. A soft pleased grunt followed the sentiment. “You have no idea how much I needed this”.

If he had been another customer, you would have rushed to assist in cleaning him. There was a sponge right next to the tub, hard enough to scrub away all of the grime off the men – yet not so harsh as to leave them sore. Just like the practice of bathing before the actual encounter could start, this was a custom that served the girls more than their clients: if you were the one attending to them, you could ensure no inch of their skin would be left unwashed.

Shirt unceremoniously crumpled on one of the wooden chairs, Percy waited patiently for you to fulfill your role in the little bathing ritual. Perhaps he hoped you would help him remove his pants.

You barely glanced at him.

Those were not the same pair of boots from that night. The brown was off, far too dark. A stain would have been invisible on such a color.

A merry little tune ringing in your ears (even if the room was too far from the entrance for some street musician’s song to reach it), you grabbed the offensive items off the floor.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Still bent on the ground, you could hear María’s soothing words, soft yet stern. “This one’s on the house. We can repay the boots, too”. She must have hurried over to where you had fallen, as you could catch a glimpse of the soft fabric of her dress in your peripheral vision.

A few onlookers had stopped to see what was going on, but scenes like this were far to common and trivial to attract the attention of more than four or five customers.

Ignoring the hot burning sensation of shame in the pit of your stomach, you had taken another deep breath and began to rise from the floor – and then you had felt someone grabbing your arm, dragging you back on the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going?”. It seemed that someone had brought a rug over for cleaning, as the rough cloth was thrust into your hands. “Stay in your place. No way you’ll be able to afford to repay something like this”.

Before, you had thought there could be nothing more embarrassing than being the subject of Percy’s loud complaints. Then, just as he tapped your bent knee with the tip of one of his boots, two words seared into your brain forever.

“Clean them”.

As if under some sort of trance, you slowly put the shoes on. They were far to large (you doubted you could walk in them without stumbling) but it still felt good, somehow. Cathartic.

“What are you doing?”.

Still half-dressed, with only his woolen pants left to cover him, Percy was now staring at you with his head tilted on the side. He seemed more amused than angry, though. Smiling, unaware of what you were thinking, he pointed at your feet with a questioning look. “I believe those are mine”.

Maybe, after years of spite and anger, you were finally losing your mind.

You playfully rose your skirts up to let him get a better view of your legs. “How do I look?”.

“Ridiculous” he chuckled after one glance – but then the mirth in his eyes shifted, taken over by something else. A deeper need...

After all, there you stood, naked under the thick layers of your dress. Wearing something that belonged to him and little else.

“I kinda like it” he confessed, realizing a bit too late how his groin had reacted to the sight even before he could admit it. The way he awkwardly tried to shift his hand to cover his groin was almost comical, bordering on pathetic. Had he always been this vulnerable when far from his goons, or had something happened during the years you had been absent from Absolution?

Someone must have found a way to humble the brash little brat. Pity you hadn’t been there to witness it – though you had no qualms about doing a bit of humbling of your own.

“Don’t hide from me” you scolded, taking your time to sit on one of the chairs that adorned the room. Skirts still raised, you decided to give him a little show and spread your legs. An ill-concealed moan repaid you for the kindness. “That’s exactly why you’re here, after all”.

Brows furrowed, Percy seemed to take a brief moment to consider his options. He could cuss at you, reminding who was in charge. He could leave.

He could stay. He could play your game.

Doubt leaving his mind at once, he followed your movements, dropping on his knees before you on the cold ground.

In a way, the situation echoed that night at the saloon. Tour guts twisted in anticipation, eager to savor the moment for as long as possible.

“Are you getting hard at the thought of me wearing your boots?” you cooed. Percy sucked in a sharp breath, frantically moving his head up and down.

How boring! That would not do. You wanted his cheeks to be as red as yours had been. You wanted him to shrivel at your feet.

“Are you?”. Raising your foot, you started pressing the tip of the dark leather against his still clothed cock, the elation of the moment making you bolder. Instead of answering, he nodded a second time.

Disappointing.

“Talk, Dolarhyde. We both know you’re good at running that mouth of yours”.

“Y-yes” he stammered, finally. A strangled ma’am followed that, so subtle you almost missed it.

Feeling merciful, you patted his hair in a soft – almost caring – manner. After all, he was just starting to behave well in a desperate attempt to please you: that must have been hard for a little brat like him.

“Good” you praised, feeling his lips curl into a smile under your palm. “You can cling to my leg, if you want, but that’s all you’re getting from me today”.

Oh, Percy wanted. The words had barely left your lips before his arms shot up, one had wrapping around your exposed thigh while the other gripped the back of your ankle.

“So eager”.

You leaned forward, pressing your leg more forcefully between Percy’s spread ones.

The leather of his own boots probably felt too stiff against his hard cock, as he winced at the discomfort. It still felt good though– you could tell he was enjoying it by the way his eyes quivered, mouth falling open in a soundless moan.

Shaft curved along the upper part of the boot, Percy lifted his head to look at you. The sound he made next sounded a lot like please, hips starting to buck a little as if he could not contain himself.

Such a mesmerizing sight to behold. You nodded, giving him permission to move more deliberately.

The first slow drag of his hips made his whole body shiver in pleasure. It wasn’t enough, and yet it was too much.

Again, your fingers found their way dragging over Percy’s head, tugging the strands firmly to force his head up. “Look at me”.

He had beautiful eyes, the moisture in them making the light blue even clearer. Mouth agape, tongue between his exposed teeth – the picture of a miserable man chasing his own pleasure. You released his hair to pass your thumb on his lower lip, wet with spit. “So pretty” you said, and the praise surprised you more than him.

He was pretty. He had never appeared that attractive to you until you finally found a way to have him on his knees.

“I like seeing you like this”.

With a hitched breath, he pressed closer into you. His hips seized forward out of his control, rubbing against the leather of the boot, hot wet breath warming your inner thigh. The grip on your leg was almost too tight, and yet you where thankful for that small pain: it helped you remain focused. One more broken moan and you risked being the one begging for him to bury his face in your aching cunt – and that was not the point.

You still had time for that. Later.

A series of sloppy kisses on your burning skin brought you back to reality. Shivering, Percy had started mouthing at your leg, both impatient to get your attention and yet somehow scared to obtain it.

Please he whispered, voice too low to be a real spoken word.

You huffed, annoyed. “Can you ask for what you want?”.

Of course, you knew what he desired – and for a brief second you thought of denying it.

“Please”. Brain hazy and slow, Percy didn’t know how to make his throat work. He just wanted.

Maybe those pitiful eyes had worked on you a bit too much.

You nodded, right as he came with a strangled moan, his thighs constricting the boot still lodged between them, a plethora of thank yous falling from his lips.

The fingers that just a second before had gripped you with bruising force were now twitching: with that, all the strength abandoned Percy’s body, leaving him slumped against you.

With a little shake you made him move enough to free your leg, a satisfied smile adorning your lips. He hadn’t even touched you – and yet you knew that was going the most satisfactory encounter you would have with a man for quite some time.

A dark wet splotch now adorned the front of Dolarhyde’s pants: if he needed a bath before, now getting him to clean up was imperative. Moving to stand from the chair that had been your throne, you cast your eyes down for the briefest second and froze.

A little stain, not bigger than your thumbnail. Almost invisible on the dark leather material– but there, beyond doubt, right at the tip of the shoe.

“Oh no” you whined, attracting Percy’s full attention once again m.

He would never recognize you, that much was evident. Why would someone like him remember the face of a little girl amongst the hundreds of people he must have berated day after day?

Nevertheless, you memory was not as flawed as his.

“You’ve ruined my new boots!”.

And that was going to be enough.

“Clean them”.

#percy dolarhyde #percy dolarhyde x reader #paul dano x reader #percy dolarhyde smut

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flamingpaige · 2 years

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nightmare blunt rotation with paul dano characters lmaoo

#fanart #paul dano #sensei rainbow #joby taylor #where the wild things are #calvin weir fields #paul dano riddler #percy dolarhyde

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danowh0re · 2 years

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Frfr 🙏

#paul dano #paul dano meme #percy dolarhyde #joby taylor #paul dano seth #seth paul dano #alex jones #simon feck

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trinketpixie · 1 year

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PERCY DOLARHYDE!!! my favorite asshole cowboy :,)

#paul dano #percy dolarhyde #cowboys and aliens #danonation #danonator #i love paul dano #paul dano fanart #fanart #the silly #digital art #art #the silly ever #dano nation #cowboy paul dano is the best kind of dano

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candied-heartss · 11 months

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𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

(ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉʳ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐ! ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ)

𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗅, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋..

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ (𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜), 𝗸𝗶𝗱𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝘂𝗯𝗰𝗼𝗻, 𝗸𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝘀𝗹𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶��𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴

You slowly regained consciousness, eyes blinking once, twice, three times before finally opening up fully to look around your area. You were in an unknown person's room, laying on a grimy mattress on the even dirtier floor with your hands bound behind your back with duct tape, with your mouth being restrained with more of the silver adhesive.

"Oh good," a deep voice crooned, "you're awake. I thought I would have to slap you awake myself, but you made my job so much easier for me."

Your eyes widen in terror and shock as you scramble to sit up, using your legs as guidance. Beneath the makeshift gag, you whimper anxiously as the man clad in a green army jacket with a question mark crudely painted onto its surface, heavy trousers with even heavier boots, and a mask that covered his whole face, save for his eyes, which were protected by clear-framed glasses.

You whine again in fear, looking up at the man, trying to back away, but he comes closer, bending down to look at you. Only then, did it dawn on you how tall he was and how it made you feel small yourself, even though you were of average height.

"Oh, look at you. You're scared, aren't you?" He observed, reaching out a gloved hand and brushing your hair away from your face. You attempted to move away from his touch only for him to harshly grip your jaw.

"Eyes up here, baby." He ordered, making you look up at him with the fear still lingering in your eyes.

He smiled at your almost instant submission, "There we go. That's a good girl. We can't have you misbehaving now, can we?"

You slowly nodded, deciding the best way not to make this man snap is to just play along.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, don't you?" he asked, stroking your cheek and looking into your eyes deeply, almost penetrating your soul with his gaze alone. You nod again and he chuckles as if this whole ordeal was highly amusing to him.

"Well, it all starts with your dear father, the one who works for the city council. It was he and his other lackeys that have been a part of the reason why this city remains the cesspool of corruption that it always has been. They've been accepting bribes from Carmine Falcone's men, all so they could fill their appetite for greed."

Your eyes widen at the man's words. No, no. This couldn't be true. Your father, your honest, caring father, collecting money from Falcone's operation? It just didn't seem right. You let out a shocked cry at his words, only to quickly shush you, cooing in your ear.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart. This must be so hard for your dumb, little brain to comprehend, but your father is not the man that you believe him to be. Your father is just like every other politician in this hellhole of a city. They all promise that change will come, a ploy to get the masses to flock to them like a herd of sheep, only to break them down, and strip them of their faith in them, all so that they can feed into the corrupt system that they created."

You shake your head, tears beginning to form in your eyes. "Please, please don't let that be true. My father is a good man... he would never do this." you thought to yourself as you looked back at him.

The man then chuckled, "But that's alright, because now that I have you..." His gloved hand went to caress your cheek, "they'll be sure to listen to the people and change their ways of exerting their power over the people."

You flinch when he comes closer to you, practically grazing your lips with his mask as he seemingly gets an idea.

"In fact, I think that I'll just keep you for now. Maybe, I'll even use you for something very special..."

You shivered at his words, wondering what he meant when he finally ripped the tape off from your lips, making you hiss in pain from the adhesive sticking to the sensitive skin. He then flips you over, so that you're in a kneeling position on your arms and legs before swiftly pulling out a thin pocket knife and dragging along the bare skin that was not covered up by the soft, cottin fabric of your underwear.

Before you can react, he swiftly swipes the knife across the fabric and seamlessly cutting it from your body, leaving you completely bare. You gasp at the cold air meeting the your hot skin and instinctively clenching your thighs together, only for him to push them back open and letting your bare cunt be exposed to him.

You cannot see him, but you can hear as he sighs in contentment, slowly reaching out and swiping a finger through your soaked folds, making you choke on your breath, before he pulls away and examines it as it glistens and drips down the padding of his gloves.

"God... Just look at that... I haven't even fucked you yet and you're already dripping. What a needy little whore you are." He chided, letting his fingers go back to your slit, but this time instead of collecting your juices, he sinks his thick fingers inside of you, making you whine at the burning stretch, having never taken anything larger than your own two fingers.

"Aww, what's the matter, sweetie? Does it hurt?" He asked her, his tone dripping with callous condescension as he speaks. When you nod, telling him how uncomfortable it feels, he simply laughs and continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you, enjoying the obscenely wet, sticky sound your juices make as it echoes through the room as your whines and moans grow louder.

He laughed again, pressing his fingers deeper inside of you and hitting that nerve within you that has you nearly screaming, keening into the mattress and bucking your hips wildly into his hand.

He sighs as his fingers to thrust harder inside of you, "C'mon baby, you've got this. You're doing so well, taking it like such a good girl for me. I think you deserve to come, don't you?" You nod frantically and whine, pushing your hips back into his hand.

You were so close, teetering on the edge of your orgasm when he pulled his fingers out of your sopping cunt, making you cry out in frustration. He merely smiles and begins to unzip his pants far enough to bring his cock out, running the head along your folds, soaking it in your juices.

"I'm going to have my way with you now, and if you struggle, I'll take my knife and cut you, piece by piece." He threatened before finally sliding inside of you in one, swift motion.

You hang your head low and sharply cried out at the feeling of his cock entering you, your walls immediately clenching around him and making him groan in pleasure. He doesn't give enough time to adjust before he begins thrusting into you, his pace wild and erratic.

"Fuck," he groans, grabbing you by the hair and pulling you up, so that your back touches his chest before he wraps a gloved hand around your throat and begins to squeeze, making you gasp for air and your walls to clench around his cock, his impending release starting to build up.

"Please," you whined, panting heavily as he continued to fuck you, "I think 'm gonna come... please let me come, sir."

He smiles underneath the masks and speaks, stroking your cheek again, "Why should I? Have you earned it?" You nod in desperation, practically begging him to let you come.

"Please, please, please, sir... 've been such a good girl for you, please lemme come for you." you practically sob as your walls continue to clench around him, your orgasm impending fast.

He then laughs and reaches down to rub your sensitive clit with his thumb, the latex of his gloves brushing up deliciously against your bundle of nerves, making you sob harder, "It's okay, baby... You've been so good for me, go on, let it go.."

At his words, you finally fall over the edge and your body tenses up as you let out a strained cry, your walls gripping his cock tightly, like a vice. He hisses at the feeling and quickly pulls out and flipping you over and situating you on your knees, gripping at his cock before forcing your mouth open and sliding it down your throat.

"Now, be a good little whore and suck my cock." He instructs, throwing his head back in ecstasy and groaning when he feels you begin to suck on him, taking him as far as your mouth would let him.

As he continues to thrust harshly into your mouth, he groans and grips your hair tightly, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

"Fuck, I'm going to come down your slutty little throat, sweetheart." He speaks to you mindlessly, before his abdomen tenses, his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud groan as he comes down your throat. He then looks down and slowly pulls out, letting some of his cum drip down your lips and onto your bare chest.

He then pulls away and grabs his Polaroid camera from a nearby table, looking down and pointing the lense at you, "Stick out your tongue, whore."

You obliged and slowly stick extend your tongue out for the camera before it goes off with a flash, capturing your face, dripping with his cum.

"God, you're the prettiest little slut in all of Gotham, baby."

#paul dano #the batman #the riddler smut #the riddler x reader #danonation #edward nigma x reader #edward nashton #edward nygma #calvin weir fields #joby taylor #klitz x reader #percy dolarhyde #jay okja #danocel #danonator

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