#that one day I hope to draw other things but I can’t control my hand
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This started with “Dean totally has orange cat energy” and just kept going and now I’ve lost all control???? Also nobody tells you cat anatomy is WEIRD. Why so bendy???
Special thanks to @lordcrowcifer for his suggestions for Crowley & Gabriel! (He made a strong case with the perfect photo of an angery looking Scottish Fold 😂)
More suggestions are, of course, welcomed because I have nothing better to do than draw dudes in plaid as cats.
#hi welcome to my blog I draw silly cute shit#that one day I hope to draw other things but I can’t control my hand#we just end up here LOL#this is low key a redraw of an older piece that gets dredged up once in a blue moon#supernatural#spn fanart#spn#supercatural#spn au#Destiel#crowley#dean winchester#sam winchester#bobby singer#Gabriel#castiel#BYE NOW
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based on a combo of these asks from earlier in my inbox<3 thinkin of this james!
he would be pining after you for years!! and no matter how many other girls he’s fucked it’s never good enough bc it’s not you. he’s head over heels for you and also so sexually frustrated every time he sees you walking around in a pair of leather pants or a cute little skirt he has to run to the bathroom to get himself (and his dick) to calm down.
one day, after a show, he’s really wound up. he’s all frustrated and angry and he doesn’t really know why, he just knows that all he can really hear is his blood pumping in his ears and his fingers are twitching, curling into fists and then splaying back out again. sweet, adorable you, notice him sitting on his amp, and of course you come over to ask him what’s wrong.
“i dunno, sweetheart, i’m just in a mood today, i guess.” he hangs his head.
“there anything i can do to help you?” james immediately softens, eyes glancing up into yours. even all worked up and sweaty he looks so good, so beautiful.
“i uh… not really.” yes. there is something you can do to help him. let him fuck your brains out. but you’re his best friend. and he can’t ruin that with you as much as he yearns to do so, as hard as it’s getting to resist.
“how bout you come back to where i’m staying after you get all sorted? go shower, come over. i’ll have drinks?” james smiles at you, standing up and nodding. stretching. looks like a plan is a plan.
***
james gets one knock at the door before youre swinging it open, embarrassingly excited about seeing james again. your crush on him will doom you for eternity with how much you love him.
“i’ve got beer! your favorite too.”
james smiles at you, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek in which you wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. james lets out a little grunt that immediately leaves his face on fire as he feels you press against his crotch. he hopes you didn’t hear that.
you drag him over to the couch of your hotel room, it being a nice spacious little place. you crack open a beer and hand it to him, then opening and taking a swig of yours. james surveys you. glancing up and down at you from your tiny, tiny top that shows off your tits so nicely. to the little shorts you’re wearing that barely conceal anything. ones you wouldn’t dare wear out of the house but are rather comfortable to lounge in.
and that’s when james realizes he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be able to control himself tonight. you looking like this, all relaxed from the alcohol. he’s embarrassingly hard in his pants, and he crosses his legs as to not draw attention to himself. you’re leaning on him, talking away about miscellaneous things, james nodding along but not really listening. instead thinking of what it would feel like to fuck your tits, play with you til you’re crying. make you pay for all the years he’s spent wasted on other girls when he could been with you.
he gets snapped out of his thoughts when you literally do snap in his face.“james! hellooo? woah, you really are out of it today.”
he can’t take it anymore, he abruptly gets up, blabbering out how he’s gotta get out of here, how he doesn’t wanna do anything he regrets, and then you’re grabbing him by the waist and turning him around before he can reach the doorknob.
“what is it that’s bothering you this much?” you look him up and down, and then you spot the hardon in his jeans. and yeah, now you know what’s been bothering him so much. james groans when he realizes you realized, and covers his face with his hands.
“can i please just lea-“
“you want me to help you with that?” okay. woah. james is paralyzed, mouth moving but no sounds coming out, until you make a move for him, taking your hand and pushing on his hard on, rubbing in slow circles and james’ brain immediately blanks. and then he’s leaning down and kissing you. it’s sloppy, wet, and with too much teeth and tongue but james couldn’t give a fuck. he’s got you. he grabs onto your waist, hoisting you up and dragging you over to the bed, sheets still unmade from when you left in the early morning. james keeps kissing you, fucking your mouth with his tongue and groaning into you.
he only lets up when you push him away for air. whimpering out a little “please, james…” and then he’s kissing and sucking on your neck, tearing your clothes off and not even bothering to unbutton his shirt, just ripping it and hearing buttons go flying.
“you know how fucking crazy you make me” you whine as james cups a hand over your pussy, covered only by thin lacy underwear now. “gonna make you pay for all those nights i haven’t been able to touch you. lay back.” you do exactly as you ask, and james acts on those sinister thoughts from earlier, removing his underwear and straddling your stomach, feeling up your bare breasts. he opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue and letting spit dribble down to the valley between your tits, getting you all wet for him there. he grabs your breasts in his big hands, pushing them together and then he slides his cock in between the little space left, groaning as he starts to fuck your tits.
“holy fuck, you’re such a dream.. look at you. have barely touched you and you’re already gone. stick your tongue out.” you do as you’re told of course. and james slides his cock all the way up until the tip pushes on your tongue on the upstroke. you swirling around the pink tip every time you get a chance. james keeps moaning, saying the filthiest fucking things to you. his thrusts get sloppy.
“fuck, ‘m gonna cum. keep your mouth open. gonna empty myself in between those pretty lips of yours.” james lets go of your tits to shuffle further up your body, jerking himself off quick and tight, before coming with a groan into your waiting mouth. you stay still, letting him do what he wants with you, pushing the droplets of cum that missed back into your mouth.
you’re mewling for stimulation. and james of course will give you anything that you ask. he shuffles down your body, face right in front of your pussy and blowing air on it. making you kick your legs out and squirm. he grabs your thighs to make you stay still, and then licks a stripe up your cunt. your squeal, closing your legs around his head now that he’s let go of him, which he lets you do enthusiastically. you grab at his hair and hump his face, whining and moaning and then screaming when james pushes two fingers into you at the same time he sucks your clit into his mouth.
you’re gonna cum so quick. james can feel it. he won’t let it happen. your moans get more high pitched, and when you start to pulse around him he pulls his fingers out quick. making your legs kick out again and slam down on the bed. crying at being denied. “james..! please!”
“not yet. told you i was gonna make you pay.” james is already hard again. he pushes his fingers back into you and immediately goes back to fucking you relentlessly with them. repeating the cycle of pulling away over and over again.
“tell me you’re sorry for making me wait.”
“fuck james.. ‘m sorry. didn’t know you liked me like that. wanted this f-for so long.. so sorry. wanted you so bad, i’m sssorry!”
“i’m not convinced.” james taunts. pulling out again. tears fall from your eyes. hands gripping the sheets of the bed hard, and you vaguely remember you’re in a hotel room and you’ve got neighbors, but the thought leaves your mind as quick as it came.
“please jamie… wanted it for so long i’m so sorry. i’m sorry. please… fuck me. want your cock so bad. wanna cum. i need you. i’m so ffucking s-sorry!” you’re full on sobbing, mascara running, hand thrown over your eyes as james’ fingers slow again inside you.
you get ready to be denied again, but instead immediately after you feel james’ fingers leave you, you feel something bigger in its place pushing at your entrance. james comes up to lean over you, resting on his forearms above you. pushing in without a word of warning and you wail again.
“ffuck… this pussy is so fucking tight.. oh god. gonna make me cum so quick. you want that? want me to fill you up?” you nod frantically when you realize he’s finally gonna let you get yours after being denied time and time again. bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist as he starts to nudge impossibly deep into you.
“shit.. yeah you do. first i want you to cream all over my cock. think you can do that for me? can feel you squeezing me. so close, aren’t you?”
you are. you really are. james leans down and gives you marks all up your neck, licking and sucking. grinding hard into you, hips pressed against each other. you bring a hand down to rub your clit, and it only takes a few tight circles before you’re gone. your other hand wraps up around his neck, pulling him down so he’s pressing you into the mattress.
“fuck.. there it is baby. that’s it.. f-feels so good. oh..” james keeps thrusting into you, faster, harder, fucking you through your orgasm so he can get his. he pushes your head to the side so he can kiss you, moaning into your mouth as you feel him spill into you with a groan before pulling away from your lips. “auh.. fuck! oh shit…” james leans back on his knees, hips still making tiny jolts in you. he pulls out almost all the way, leaving just the tip in and reaching down to jerk his cock, pushing out the last of his orgasm.
when he pulls out he groans at the sight of you leaking with his cum, reaching down to push it back into you. you whine, grabbing a pillow and holding it to your face. you’re exhausted, thoroughly worn out, but he doesn’t wanna let this be done yet. he’s already twitching again. you’re gonna be in for a rough night.
——
can y’all tell i’m ovulating.
#asks and replies#p’s thots(^ ^*)#metallica#james hetfield#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield fanfiction#metallica smut#metallica fanfiction#kirk hammett#cliff burton#lars ulrich#jason newsted
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i know your already working on my series but just hear me out okay. hear me out. crazy x crazy trope but with ethan and reader puts bratty cocky ethan in his place. "not so confident now are you, you little bitch? or are you that drunk off my pussy you can barely think?" while he just pouts and glares at her but is quite literally unable to speak and can only whine and whimper for her. double points if she's ghostface with the baileys, taking revenge because of lets say she was either ambers ex or younger sister and is PISSED at tara for taking her girlfriend/older sister away. (TRIPLE THE POINTS if she knew ethan, quinn and richie since childhood too) sorry its thot hrs and i wanna dom him
I hope you like this! I was determined to finish it tonight. I love a good psychotic moment💕
Savages - Ghostface!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You and your childhood best friend both lost someone from what happened in Woodsboro at the hands of the Carpenter Sisters. You start to plot with him and his family to get revenge, but he's being a little brat after his first kill.
Contains: 3.2k words, Sub!Ethan, Dom/Psycho!Reader, Oral - m and f recieving, Face sitting/riding, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of death and violence/blood. (If I missed anything, please let me know. My brain has tapped out for the night haha)
A/N: I hope y'all like it:) I love sub Ethan and a good psycho!reader moment.
Ethan knew he loved you, but the second you put on the Ghostface robe and mask, he fell even harder. It’s hard to believe that the two of you made it to this point. He was a sweet kid, and you were always with his family growing up, until the day your parents moved you to Woodsboro. You tried to remain friends with him, until you got a girlfriend. You weren’t anything more than best friends at that point, but he’d message you like a controlling boyfriend. He professed his feelings, but it was too late. You’d already found someone in your new town. Someone you could experience a relationship with.
He was devastated when you rejected him, and when he wouldn’t let it go, you eventually had to block him. Amber was pretty much the exact opposite. She even asked you about opening the relationship up to other people, just because she wanted you to experience other things. She wasn’t possessive like Ethan, but she never wanted to just let you go.
When Richie showed up to the hospital with Sam after Tara was attacked, he recognized you immediately. He pretended he didn’t, though, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he wasn’t originally from the area where he met Sam. You finally pulled him to the side one day and talked to him, and he pleaded with you to not tell anyone that you already knew him. That was the moment that you knew he had something to do with what was happening.
You didn’t suspect Amber, though, until the day of the party. You were upstairs in her room when she pulled out a knife.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, plunging the knife into your abdomen.
“What the fuck? It’s you?” you sobbed, dropping to your knees as you noticed the blood starting to drip onto her carpet.
“I can’t have you on the suspect list. You trust me, don’t you?” she asked. You hesitated before nodding, “I didn’t stab you anywhere that will cause a lot of damage, okay? I’m going to call 911, and by the time they get here, Richie and I will be done, and you’ll be saved.”
“I feel really dizzy,” you cried out, Amber’s hand wrapping around your mouth so you couldn’t make anymore noise to draw attention to yourself.
“You’re going to pass out soon. You’re losing a lot of blood,” she said, before the rest of her words sounded muffled, your vision completely fading.
She was right, you were saved. You woke up in your hospital bed the next day, and learned that Amber and Richie didn’t survive. You were devastated, but you knew the one person you could talk to that would understand your pain.
You unblocked Ethan’s number and called him. You could hear the tears in his voice as he answered. When he found out that you’d been a part of everything, he was mad at first, screaming at you until his voice was raw. He eventually heard you out, mainly because he had no voice to speak, and learned that you had nothing to do with what happened to Richie. The two of you decided that the Carpenter sisters needed to pay for taking away your loved ones.
You fake-smiled when Sam and Tara walked into your hospital room a little later in the day.
“Someone’s doing better,” Sam said, pushing Tara up beside you before taking a seat at the foot of your hospital bed.
“Yeah, I’m on a lot of good drugs,” you laughed, as Sam and Tara exchanged their glances. “What?” you asked, feeling like there was something they knew and you didn’t.
“Richie and Amber were, uh…” Tara said, looking over to her sister for help.
“They were what?” you asked, turning your attention to Sam as well.
“Your girlfriend and my boyfriend were together,” she said, a stoic look on her face. “We were both getting cheated on by psychos.”
You were livid that Sam was talking about her like that, but you felt a little hurt. You and Amber always promised that if you were going to see other people in your relationship, you’d let the other person know. A few tears started to slip out as Tara offered you the box of tissues on the bedside table.
“Thanks,” you said, grabbing a couple out of the box before Tara sat it back down. “How do you guys feel about getting the fuck out of here? Like, once Tara and I graduate?”
“What did you have in mind?” Sam asked, thinking that it might not be the worst idea.
“I think we should go to New York. I grew up there, and I really think you guys would like it,” you smiled, as Tara nodded.
“Fuck it, let’s start looking into schools. After you get out of here, of course.”
You called Ethan, squealing in excitement when you and all your friends got their acceptance letters. That’s when the plan was officially set into motion, with the help of Quinn and his dad. Having a detective on your side of things was going to heavily benefit the outcome of everything, and you couldn’t wait to make the people that took Amber from you pay for what they’d done.
Once you started school, you were ‘introduced’ to Ethan. No one could know that the two of you already knew each other in attempts to not ruin the plan before you got to do any damage. Fortunately for the two of you, when you immediately hit it off and seemed to have your own little inside jokes, they chalked it up to young love.
You weren’t official with Ethan for a while, until your “Friends’” constant nagging about it convinced you to give him the chance he wanted. Once you found out that poor boy was a virgin, and you helped him out with that, he was wrapped around your finger. He worshipped the ground you walked on and would do anything you asked him to. The only thing he hated was when you brought up Amber. He hated that she got you first.
The night Ghostface “killed” Quinn and actually killed Anika, you were waiting in the alley on the opposite side of the building for your boyfriend to finish what he went in there to do. You were both supposed to be in econ, but you were his alibi. They’d never suspect you, so they could never suspect Ethan if you said you were with him in class.
He was stripping off the robe as he bolted down the fire escape. He tossed it down to you, and you quickly put it in your backpack as he joined you to walk in a normal pace towards the alley exit at the back of the building.
“How was it?” you asked, smiling at him.
“God, baby. It was the biggest rush. I wish you could’ve been in there with me,” he said, pulling you into a kiss once you made it onto the sidewalk.
“I’m so proud of you. You’re doing such a good job for me,” you praised, ruffling your fingers in his hair a little as he started to pull away. “I can’t wait to make the others pay for what they did to Amber.”
He huffed, his irritation at the mention of her name obvious as you cocked your eyebrow at him. “Do you have a problem?”
“Yeah, I do. I was so excited about what just happened, but then you mention your stupid fucking ex. I feel like she’s all you care about,” he said, his angry tone and harsh remarks about Amber pissing you off. “We’re in this together, remember? Me and you?”
“Yeah, and your dad, and Quinn.”
He started to walk away from you, heading towards his dorm. You followed him, trying to keep up with his pace.
“Quit acting like such a brat,” you said, a few feet behind him on the otherwise empty sidewalk.
“Quit being such a bitch,” he muttered, but the second those words left his mouth, he knew he was in trouble. You quickened your pace, slamming him against the brick wall the second you made it to him.
“What did you call me?” you asked, his eyes going wide at the lust in your tone. He stayed silent, just watching you. “Huh, nothing to say now?” you scoffed, “You know I’m in charge here, baby.”
You pulled away, smiling sweetly at him as you took his hand in yours.
The walk back to the dorm was silent because Ethan knew what he was in for. He was excited, but also nervous. The few scenarios where he did decide to get mouthy with you ended in him being edged to the point of tears, begging you to finally let him cum. He was hard at the thought, but he was always scared you’d just walk away and not let him get the release he needed.
Once you made it inside the dorm he shared with Chad, you knew you had plenty of time to be alone with him. Chad probably wasn’t coming back for the night, but you knew you’d have to get back home at some point.
“Take your clothes off,” you said to Ethan, the stern tone in your voice making him comply. You watched him shed each article of clothing and smirked when you saw the tent in his boxers once he removed his jeans. “Aww, baby. Did you get hard from killing someone? Or was it me pushing you against the wall earlier?” you cooed, as he slid his boxers down, his cock standing at attention in from of you.
“It’s because of you,” he said, his arms resting at his sides as he waited for you to tell him what to do next.
“That was the right answer,” you smiled, “Lay back on the bed.”
He did what you said, watching you intently. You walked over to him, and started to stroke his cock that was resting against his tummy.
“Fuck,” he groaned, before you leaned down and took him in your mouth. He thought you were going to take it easy on him tonight, until you pulled your head away after a minute, his cock drenched in your spit. “Babe,” he whined out.
You rolled your eyes at his neediness. “I want you to grab your cock and start stroking, baby.”
He did what you said, your saliva making his hand glide up and down with ease. After a few minutes, he started to whine.
“This doesn’t feel as good as when you do it,” he whimpered, the tip of his cock turning red as he tried to get himself to cum.
“Well, that’s too bad, baby. What was it that you called me?” you fake-pondered, your pointer finger going in between your teeth, “Oh that’s right. I’m a bitch.”
“I didn’t mean it,” he said, his eyes pleading for you to touch him again. You noticed his hand was no longer moving.
“Did I say you could stop?” you questioned, as his hand movements started back up. “Good boy.” He whined at your words, his hand moving faster. “Do you want me to keep praising you, baby?”
He nodded his head as he kept going.
“You did such a good job tonight. You know how wet you made me when you killed her?” you said, your sadistic side on full display. “I’m so proud of you for doing whatever I ask you to.”
You noticed he was starting to get close, his hand moving even faster and his heaving chest, along with his whimpers making it obvious. Just as he was about to cum, you stopped him.
“Don’t you fucking cum,” you scolded, his hand coming to a stop as he started to whine even more from the lost orgasm.
“I needed it so bad,” he begged, as you shook your head.
“I don’t know if you deserve to cum. Maybe if you didn’t feel the need to call me names…” you trailed off, as he started to get really frustrated.
“I wouldn’t have called you that if you wouldn’t have brought her up,” he snapped, your eyes getting dark at his words.
“Hmm, I think someone’s a little insecure. Are you worried that she fucked me better than you do?” you questioned, “Because I don’t know what other reason you have to be jealous of someone that’s dead.”
“Stop talking about her,” he said, growing furious at the thought of you having sex with someone else.
“You are just too cute,” you said, slipping your shirt over your head. “I can’t believe that you think you’re going to have the upper hand in this, ya know? Like you really think that I’m going to stop talking about her. I loved her, Ethan.”
His eyes stayed on you as you continued to strip out of your clothes,
“What? Cat got your tongue, baby? You have nothing to say?” you asked, sliding your panties down. “Even if you did, I know the perfect way to shut you up.”
You crawled up on the bed, your knees right beside his head as you swung your leg over to straddle his face.
“You better make me cum, or you don’t get to cum. Got it?” you asked, as he nodded before you lowered yourself.
His tongue gently moved against your clit at first. He knew just how you liked it, so he wanted to pace himself. Once he started to lick a little faster, your hands went down to his curls as you really started to ride his face.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you moaned out, his hands going to your hips as he helped you move against his mouth.
You whimpered when his tongue dipped inside you, the muscle massaging your walls as he ate you out. Once he could tell you were getting close, he lifted your hips a little to focus on your clit again. The second he sucked it into his mouth, you started to feel your orgasm building. You gripped the headboard to keep yourself stable, your hands and legs starting to shake.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out, one hand staying on the headboard as your other went back to his hair. You were tugging at it as that euphoric feeling hit, his groaning from your pulling making the orgasm more intense. He kept your hips moving until you rode out your high, your body getting a little tired from the release.
You got off his face as he tried to catch his breath. He was anticipating what you’d do next, because he made you cum, and he was hoping you’d keep up your end of the deal. You didn’t say anything as you straddled his waist and lined his cock leaking precum with your entrance. He groaned out when you sank down, the feeling making his brain turn to mush.
You started slowly; your hands placed on his chest as you took your time. He was desperate for more, but you weren’t going to give in that easily.
“You aren’t so cocky now, are you? You little bitch.” You put extra emphasis on that word because that’s what he called you, and he needed to know his place. He glared at you as you continued to take your time with him.
Whimpers flooded out of his mouth when you started to bounce on him, his cock almost completely out of you before you sank back down onto him. His hands went to your hips to help you keep your pace feeling like he was finally getting somewhere. He started to babble, his words sounding like ‘I fucking love your pussy’. You smirked at his current state.
“Look at you, so drunk off my pussy that you can’t even talk,” you said, your breathing getting heavy as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot. “Are you okay, sweet boy?”
He started to whimper again, his orgasm quickly approaching. You decided to let him cum, as you leaned forward, your chest almost pressed against his. He gripped your hips harder as he started to thrust up into you, your hips rolling back to meet each one.
Your orgasm was right on the edge, your walls starting to flutter a little. He was trying so hard to get you through another one before he came.
“Fuck, baby. I’m cumming,” you moaned out, as his whines got even louder. Your walls spasmed around him, making his breath hitch in his throat.
The skin slapping and his sounds were bouncing around the room as he kept pounding into you.
“Can I please cum?” he begged, praying that you’d say yes.
You were proud of him for using his words that he hadn’t been able to form. “Yes, baby.”
He whimpered out as his hot cum painted your walls, his grip on your hips getting shaky as he slowed your movements.
“Holy fuck,” he said, his hands rubbing against your back as his cock stayed inside of you.
You listened to his heartbeat as you got out of your dominating headspace, starting to feel a little bad.
“I’m sorry I talk about her so much. I really loved her,” you mumbled against his chest.
“I guess I just feel like I’m always coming in second place to her,” he sighed, sadness in his voice.
“You aren’t, though. I think we would’ve ended up together one way or another,” you laughed a little as he kissed the top of your head.
“After we’re done with all of this, can we just focus on us?” he asked, as you nodded against him.
You laid there for a few more minutes, before remembering that you needed to head back to the apartment.
“I have to go, baby,” you said, sitting up. He groaned as you slid him out of you.
“Do you have to?” he asked, wanting nothing more than for you to stay in his bed with him a little longer.
“If we want this plan to work, then yes,” you said, noticing his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you tried to grab your clothes off the floor. “You came a lot, fuck.”
You grabbed some tissues and wiped it from your thighs before you started to put your clothes back on. He started to laugh a little as you glanced over to him. “What?”
“My cum is going to keep dripping out of you,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.
“Lucky for you, I think it’s hot. It’s a nice little reminder of how good I made you feel,” you said with a smile. “I love you, baby,” you said, kissing him before grabbing your purse and rushing out of the room.
“I love you, too.”
You’d almost made it to the apartment when you noticed all the flashing lights up ahead and could see Mindy and Chad sitting on the sidewalk.
“What’s going on?” you asked, looking around to see the black tarp covering a body in the alley.
“Anika,” was all that Tara could say, before Sam spoke up, “And Quinn. Our apartment is a crime scene right now.”
“Oh my god,” you said, turning on your crocodile tears as you looked over to Mindy. “I’m so sorry.”
“Was Ethan in class tonight?” she asked coldly, her question catching you off guard.
“Yeah, he was sitting beside me the whole time. Then we went back to his dorm for a little bit before I came home,” you lied, as she started to shake her head.
“None of this makes any fucking sense.”
#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#scream smut#ethan landry smut#scream#smut#Ghostface!Ethan Landry
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Flesh-Devouring Part 2
Rating: R-18+
Word Count: 20,217
Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, thigh grinding, mutual masturbation, belt spanking, some very mild violence (reader is mostly a helpless bystander nvxcnvde), a pinch of angst for spice
A/N: okay, I promise I’ll work on the next kinktober prompt now 🙈 and also we're just gonna' pretend Wriothesley has an actual belt somewhere on his person, I eyeballed the hell out of his official art and started to doubt myself buuuuuut I was already fully committed to the bit so dvdknvgkdngg
⭐
“Good morning, your grace!”
Looking up from the sheaf of papers in his hand, Wriothesley swivels his head around to watch you disembark from the elevator with a noticeably eager skip in your step. He quirks a brow at it and fully turns to greet you at your approach. “Good morning, little miss. You certainly seem to be in a good mood today.”
You can’t quite keep the smile off your face as you come to a stop in front of him, practically vibrating in your excitement. “Of course I am! Todays the day I finally get to meet with some of the inmates and get started on our new program, what else would I be?”
He smiles at that. “While your enthusiasm is quite commendable, I must remind you not to get your hopes up too much. The group that volunteered for this is a — mixed crowd, so to speak. I’m not exactly sure what sort of reaction you’re going to get.”
Drawing a stilted breath, you square your shoulders and give him a brief nod of understanding. You knew he was just being practical and realistic as always, but you felt good about this. Optimistic. You were positive your efforts would soon pay off in a very real, very tangible way, and at last justify all the grief you’d suffered at his hands just to get here. For weeks now you’d been meeting with him, discussing, planning, organizing and fine tuning a plan of implementation, all while wrestling with your own self control where the duke was concerned. There wasn’t any use denying that you liked kissing him a great deal. In fact, it seemed to be your new favorite activity, amongst other, less wholesome things …
Even now you could feel the urge to go up on your tiptoes so you could tug him down to your level threatening to overpower your common sense, but there were much more important matters at hand. You’d told yourself this over and over again, repeating it like a mantra to steel your resolve and keep your mind focused on matters of business instead of giving in, and it was going to pay off. Today. Here and now. You could feel it.
“I understand, your grace. I will make sure to keep my expectations appropriately tempered.”
Wriothesley looks at you like he doesn’t quite believe that, but he relents without further pressing you on it. His boots sound impossibly heavy on the steel plated flooring as he half turns, motioning you ahead. “Let’s be off then. Did you bring everything you need?”
“Yes, your grace.” Clutching your worn leather carry case in hand, you fall into step beside him as he leads you down the long winding corridor.
The Fortress of Meropide is somehow both stuffy and chilly at the same, the air thick but infused with the cool temperature bleeding in off the water that surrounds it. You’d learned your lesson the first time you came here (in more ways than one) and had opted for a light jumper over your blouse to stave off the ever present note of cold which you could take off if you got too warm. That seemed like a not far off possibility when you were internally quaking with nerves, both eager and anxious, but for now at least you just keep your attention on him while he gives you a brief rundown of who was supposedly going to show up for this little meeting he’d arranged for you.
Sixteen inmates had signed up. Not even half of that number were finished with their sentences, the vast majority still actively serving time, and you can’t help but feel a little disappointed about that. You’d of course hoped to give those who had made the conscious decision to stay at Meropide a chance to reconsider integrating back into overworld society but you try to remind yourself that this was only the first preliminary phase of a much greater project. If things went well today, there would be plenty of time to work with the others.
“Ah, and before I forget.” He says, sending you a meaningful look. “Someone by the name of George should be in attendance, if he bothers to show up. He’s a little rough around the edges but don’t let what he says get under your skin. He’s had his sentence extended twice now and as I’m sure you can imagine he’s a bit grumpy about that.”
“Understood.” You give the clutch of your bag a fierce squeeze. “May I ask why?”
Wriothesley thinks that over for a beat. “The first time was due to excessive fighting outside of the regulated channels. We have a three strikes policy here, as I’ve mentioned before. I suspect he was trying to assert himself as the top dog in his block but he ran into a bit more opposition than he was expecting, so he had to start using his fists instead.”
“And the other?”
“He tried to take one of the sponsor representatives hostage and use her as a bargaining chip.”
Your eyes go big. “Oh.”
Smiling one of those rare but incredibly flattering genuine smiles, he reaches out to lightly nudge your elbow. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there the whole time to keep everything under control and make sure nobody gets out of hand but the ball will be in your court, little miss. I’m just your guard dog today.”
You hate the way fluster slowly creeps up your neck but you valiantly stamp it back down as you shyly avert your gaze elsewhere. “Thank you, your grace. I … I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
“I know you do. But don’t thank me just yet. Wait until after we see what kind of response you get.”
That gentle warning niggles at the back of your mind like the tickling whisper of sharp claws brushing your skin, and your stomach gives a little flip. You were nervous to meet with them face to face despite being excited to get started. Working in the public affairs office and spending most of your time at a desk didn’t exactly prepare you for hands-on encounters such as this, but between your unfaltering conviction and Wriothesley’s ever present cool demeanor at your side you keep your head held high.
Up a short flight of metal steps and down another steel plated hall, you find yourself stepping into a small room that, based on the rickety old tables tightly packed into the cramped space, looked like it was perhaps largely used as a card room. You can’t help but feel a dull rush of relief at finding it yet unoccupied by anyone. Unable to fight the urge any longer, you reach out to snag Wriothesley’s sleeve and he sedately turns to look down at you.
Shuffling closer until you were practically pressed right up against him, you offer him an imploring look as you go up on your toes. “Your grace …?”
Something distantly sparks in his eyes and, humming softly, he carefully bends down to press his mouth to yours in an altogether chaste kiss. But even for as innocent as it is — not nearly as heated as some of the kisses you’d exchanged with him in recent memory — it still inspires a flood of warmth in you that races down your body. Sighing softly, you lean further into him and give yourself over to the stilted, hard press of his lips on yours.
It lasts for only a brief moment though, and your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks when he pulls back just enough to speak. “Don’t be scared.” He tells you quietly, so gently it makes your heart wrench.
“I’m not scared, just … nervous, is all. I think.”
Humming quietly, he gives you another quick, lingering kiss that makes your bottom lip warble against your will. “You’ll do great. I know you will, but even if you should happen to fall I’ll be right there to catch you. Just like always, right?”
Your face was quickly starting to become unbearably hot. Oh, how you wanted him so badly, even if he was the most confounding, frustrating man you’d ever met. “Will — will you have me later? When we’re done …?”
Wriothesley goes still, just looking at you for a drawn out moment, but you’re a little too embarrassed to be saying something so shameful out loud to meet his gaze anymore. Flutteringly, your hand comes up to anxiously tug at the fur collar of his coat under the guise of straightening it for him, even though you really wanted to use it to tug him in against you.
Finally, at length, he draws a carefully tempered breath. “How do you want me to have you, little miss?”
The violent shudder that abruptly tears through you almost has you going cross eyed. “I - I’m not sure, I just … I feel like such a mess inside and everything is confusing, and I don’t know what it is exactly but I want you to — to - -“
“Oh, sweet girl,” He exhales slowly, and you jolt when one of his hands finds your hip. Giving it a tight, possessive squeeze to make you tremble, he drags that oppressive palm further back and around to grab a pinching handful of your ass. “Do you need me to ground you in place? Is that what you’re asking me for? Huh?”
You sway unsteadily, feeling terribly faint when it seemed as if you were being smothered under his weighty presence. The heavy, rough calloused hand gripping your backside through the seat of your pants, the body heat bleeding off of him in waves to settle into you; the smell of him swarming your senses to settle on the back of your tongue and leave the masculine taste you’d come to recognize solely as the duke’s cloying in your throat. It was all too much.
Much, much too much.
Whimpering softly, you force your attention up to look in his face, still hovering mere millimeters from yours even when doing so proves to be quite the struggle. “Yes.” It’s little more than a faint whisper. “I want … I need you to reorient me. It feels like I’m — lost out at sea. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
With a barely audible, rumbling growl, Wriothesley closes his fingers around the meat of your ass hard enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. “You need your head cleared so you can focus all that energy you have where it belongs. I’ll give you that outlet, as much as you require it. I have no problem giving you a guiding hand, little miss. You know that.”
Your mouth warbles in a jittery smile, unable to keep it at a bay even when you try very hard to stop it from spreading across your face. You didn’t fully understand it yourself, what you were asking for or what you needed. All you’d seemed to grasp over the short time you’d known him was that Wriothesley made you feel good. Almost inexplicably so. Even when he was being infuriating and condescending towards you, even when he’d give your poor bottom a handful of stinging swats at the first sign of attitude to remind you to behave yourself, it still didn’t detract from this flutter low in your gut. There was something deeply gratifying about being with him like this, in this particular dynamic, and for as little as you know what to make of any of it, he seems to know exactly what it is you instinctively crave from him. Why you keep seeking him out this way.
The sapphires in his eyes shutter with what you’re starting to recognize as desire in his otherwise implacable facade and he leans in again, issuing an anticipatory breath into the scant space separating you. His mouth finds yours, as sure as any compass points north, drawing a threadbare moan from the depths of your shuddering gut. You lean into him, lips carefully parting to kiss him back, and — the shuffling sound of heavy approaching footsteps echoing off the metal walls has you wrenching back from him so fast your head spins.
Eyes going impossibly wide, you quickly slap him away in your fluster and rush to extricate yourself from his person. Chuckling softly, as if he wasn’t at all concerned about being caught in such a compromising situation, Wriothesley lets you go, but not without a playful swat to your ass when you move to brush past him. You yelp at the mild sting but keep your attention ahead as you hurry over to deposit your bag on one of the tables so you can dig in it and give your racing heart a chance to calm down. Even now you somehow manage to be surprised at how utterly unapologetic he was about everything!
Forcing your lungs to expand on a deep, steadying breath, you listen to the approaching shuffle behind you until an unmistakable shift of occupancy in the cramped room indicated that you were no longer alone with the duke. You keep your head down just a moment longer, both to ensure you had your expression under control and to also listen to the way Wriothesley amicably greets the inmates. You’d never gotten to see him interact with them before and, rather than coming off like the strict, hardass warden you’d had a first impression of, he almost seems to talk to them like they were … friends? Or at least on friendly terms with each other.
Could it really be that you were the only one unlucky (or lucky, depending on how you looked at it) enough to bring out that side of him? But why would that be …?
Slowly, more people start to drift in and you have to make a concerted effort to shove those thoughts to the back of your mind so you can stay focused on what really matters. You take your time neatly organizing your stacks of papers, the forms you’d carefully composed on the typewriter in the affairs office, and make a concerted effort to greet everyone with a smile when they move away from the duke to find their seats. Some of them are rather friendly when they respond, but others simply look at you without a single word and not so much as a backwards glance. No matter, though. You didn’t exactly come here to make friends.
All in all, only seven inmates show up. A pair of shady looking brothers, one woman and the rest are men who just disinterestedly eye you up and down with varying levels of annoyance reflecting in their eyes. You can’t quite shake the feeling that they’d expected someone a bit more impressive than the slight, eager-faced woman wearing a jumper and slacks standing before them now, and it probably didn’t help that you looked downright diminutive standing next to Wriothesley either. Oh, well. You were just going to have to try and make the best of it.
“Hello, everyone,” You chirp, a little higher in pitch than you’d intended thanks to your jittery nerves. “It looks like we won’t be getting anyone else today, so let’s get started. I’m very excited to be working with all of you.”
Resounding, echoing silence and a wall of blank stares.
You waver slightly, but recover admirably. “I’m from the office of public affairs, and recently I’ve been working with his grace here to come up with programs for the prison that can help or otherwise enrich the lives of the inmates here. I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to come see me, and I hope you’ll feel comfortable enough to speak freely. This preliminary meeting is first and foremost going to function as a feeler so we can get an idea of what sort of activities you'd like to see offered at the prison in the future.”
More silence. More staring.
You can feel your face starting to grow warm even though you’ve also broken out into a cold sweat, and you flounder for something else to say. Far be it that you’d expected them to jump for joy and lift you in the air over their heads in celebration or anything as preposterous as that, but you had anticipated at least some kind of response. What were you supposed to do when they wouldn’t even speak so much as a single word to you? It’s not like you could get anything of worth out of this if you were the only one talking.
Suddenly, Wriothesley shifts beside you and the soft creak of his boots makes your pulse nervously jump. “I expect all of you to show our guest some respect today. I'm not sure why you would sign up for this if you had no intention of participating, so let’s get it in gear. If you have something to say, now is your chance to say it.”
The brothers sitting nearest to you bend their heads close and exchange a quick, muffled conversation between themselves, but you’re a little too rattled by the tone of Wriothesley’s voice to make out what they’re saying. Ah, so it wasn’t just you then. Good to know.
“What sort of activities are we talking here?” One of the men in the rear suddenly speaks up, snapping your attention back into the present.
“O - oh, yes. We were thinking things like trade skills and daily lifestyle necessities that could give you a better sense of independence while you’re here. Things like sewing or cooking, or - -“
“Why would we need any of that?” The only other woman in the room chimes in. “Meropide works just fine as is and the system already in place provides us with all of that.”
“Well, yes, but - -“
“Yeah, what do I need to know sewing for when I could just as easily pass it off to someone who already knows how to do it?” One of the brothers, the larger and seemingly more cantankerous of the two, adds on, making you pull your mouth into a firm line.
“That’s exactly why.” You assert in an equally firm voice. “The prison’s internal functionality works like a well oiled machine, doesn’t it? Why want for anything else when everything is already right where it needs to be. Just like cogs, everyone fits into their role and they fit it well. You all keep Meropide running as it should, there’s no doubt about that. But each and every one of you has a life beyond the role you take on here. You aren’t just cogs, and you aren’t just part of the greater machine. I want to give you a chance to be independent of that clockwork, even if it’s only for an hour or two each day, and remind you that there’s still something beyond these tin walls.”
You draw a steadying breath, carefully taking in the faces sitting before you. It looked like a few of them were starting to come around, or were at least curious enough to actually hear you out now, and that bolsters your courage by some margin. You could do this. You would.
“I know how easy it is to get comfortable with the lifestyle here. His grace has taken the time to explain to me in great detail the ins and outs of the prison, how everyone lives on a schedule, what freedoms you’re allotted and what has restricted access. I’m aware that there is a great deal of self governing here in the fortress, which is precisely why I want to give you all an opportunity to deviate from that routine. It might be fun, right? Having a little bit of your old life back?”
A few looks are exchanged between some of the inmates, a soft murmur rising up, and your heartbeat starts to quicken. Next to you, Wriothesley snorts a quiet laugh before moving back to lean against the wall, leaving you feeling strangely alone and exposed standing there by yourself. You shoot him a quick, harried glance over your shoulder but he just crosses his arms over his chest and nudges his chin at the small congregation. When you turn back around, you’re more than a little surprised to find the other woman leaning towards you in obvious interest.
“I always wanted to be a seamstress some day.” She abruptly announces, startling you slightly. “My mother taught me when I was younger, but I never got a chance to really hone the skill. Is that really something you could arrange?”
You swallow your nerves, hearing Wriothesley’s reminder not to get your hopes up in the back of your mind, but it was so hard not to when she was looking at you like that. You wanted to help her. More than anything else, you just wanted to give them something more to live for.
“I believe we can. His grace and I have already reached out to a few businesses, and a few of them have expressed willingness to volunteer their services to the prison. I’m sure if everything goes well and word of mouth starts to spread, we could convince others to do the same as well.”
“I did always want to be a chef.” The larger brother admits somewhat sheepishly, and you smile. You couldn’t help it.
This was really working.
It doesn’t take long to have a full dialogue going after that. Even with the one or two stragglers still wary and uncertain about introducing any real changes to the system the overall reception seems to be resoundingly positive. You talk with them, discussing what they’d like to do, what they’d like to potentially see implemented, and through it all Wriothesley just hangs back against the wall, watching over everything like a silent sentry just at your back. He even stays true to his word and lets you be in charge even when tempers seem to flare up in disagreement every so often instead of snatching the reins from you at the first sign of trouble. All it takes is a sharp look from him or a low word of warning, and everyone grudgingly settles back down, which was not something you’d expected to relate so much with them about but you do. It almost feels like a strange sense of solidarity in a way, and you were immensely glad to have him on your side like this.
Everything goes so well, in fact, that by the time a real problem raises its head, you almost overlook it completely. The man in the far back corner hadn’t said much at all over the course of the last hour and some change, but you’d felt his burning gaze on you the whole time. He appeared to be the most opposed to the program you’d presented to the group, but you hadn’t been able to squeeze the reason out of him yet which is why you eventually defer to your hand typed forms. You’d thought it would be a good idea to have them put their thoughts down in writing in case they felt too shy to say it out loud, and you hoped your careful planning would pay off in this.
You’re in the process of handing out the papers to everyone along with the pencils you’d brought along, slowly making your way over to him last, and he tips his head back as if in challenge at your approach. You had a sneaking suspicion who he was, of course, but you still offer him a cheerful smile as you move closer.
“I know you haven’t said much today, but I hope you’ll share any thoughts you have on the form. It’s really helpful to have different perspectives on things like this.” You tell him, holding out the sheet.
“Can’t write.” He rumbles, making your hand falter.
“Oh.” You hadn’t even considered that being a possibility. “I - I’m sorry. Maybe we could see about starting up classes so you can - -“
“Don’t want em’”
You blink at him owlishly, trying to make sense of his surly attitude, but Wriothesley calls over from the other side of the room before you can think of something to say. “Watch yourself, George. I’m not going to give you another warning.”
Ah. So your suspicions were correct.
You start to pull back, decidedly unnerved by the way he clearly wants nothing at all to do with you, but then you see the look that flashes across his eyes. Like a street hardened dog that was ready to bite in retaliation. You almost hate yourself for it, but your heart irreparably softens and you turn your head to send Wriothesley a reassuring look. “It’s alright, your grace. I don’t mind.”
He begins to open his mouth to say something but you whip your head back around, speaking before he can further insert himself into the conversation.
“Please don’t worry about it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know not all of us have been given the same kind of opportunities in life. Where are you from, George?”
The grizzled man sends you a slow look, the muscles in his jaw working with what you think is probably irritation, but you refuse to back down or give up on him. He was still a person deserving of respect and dignity no matter how much he might hate you.
“Fleuve Cendre.” He says at length, and you feel a distant twang of understanding in the back of your mind. The underground sewer systems in the Court of Fontaine were not always the best place to grow up so it made sense, in a way.
“I see. Well, if you’re at all interested I can make every effort to arrange for someone to come teach you how to write, or maybe I could even do it myself. Does that sound like a good idea?”
He suddenly leans forward in his chair, getting right in your face, and it takes everything you have not to go scuttling back though you do give a startled jerk in surprise. “Not a chance! I don’t want your stinking charity, lady!” He practically spits at you, vitriolic and full of malice.
“Charity?” You incredulously echo him, but he reaches out to viciously grab your wrist before you can think of anything else to say.
“That’s right! You think I need you looking down on me or something? How about I tell you exactly where you can shove it instead!”
You open your mouth to say — what, you don’t know, but a shift of motion in your peripheral stops you in your tracks. Snapping your head up, you’re not the least bit surprised to find Wriothesley quickly closing the distance with long, purposeful strides, but it still horrifies you and your heart promptly jackhammers straight up into your throat.
“Wait!” You shriek, holding your uncaptured arm out as if to stop him. Like you even could. He’s like a solid wall moving towards you and you could already see how this was going to play out, your eyes going round as saucers seconds before a violent wrench on your arm takes you right off your feet.
In a sudden rush of movement that you can’t even begin to process or comprehend, you abruptly find yourself pinned to the front of George who’s shot up out of his seat. Wriothesley comes to an immediate halt, just short of being within arms reach, and you stare up at him in unseeing disbelief as George shuffles back to press himself into the corner, using you like a shield. You’re distantly aware of an eruption of chaos in the rest of the room, likely a result of everyone rushing to get out of the way, chairs loudly scraping and clattering against the floor, but you feel strangely numb to it all.
The only thing you can manage to think at that moment is that you were going to be in so much trouble once everything was said and done.
“Don’t touch me, you bastard aristocrat!”
“Wha — h - hold on a minute!” You squawk, feet kicking uselessly at the floor in a blind attempt to find some traction. It’s no use though, and your shoes just slip and slide against the papers you’d dropped in the shuffle.
“I thought we already went over this, George. You know taking hostages isn’t going to get you anywhere except straight into solitary.” Wriothesley intones, and the surprisingly calm, leveled quality of his voice surprises you slightly, prompting you to bring your head back up. But the look you find in his face, the icy heat curling in his eyes, is anything but tranquil, and your stomach twists in dread.
You’d never seen him look like that before … like he could really kill someone.
“I don’t want to hear it!” George snaps, nervously clutching you against him — as if you were going to stop anything! “I’ve had enough of this place, and I’ve had enough of all of you! Always looking down on me like I’m less than dirt!”
“No one is looking down on you.” Wriothesley says, clearly trying to reason with him. “Just calm down and let her go. I know you’re having a hard time adjusting, and I’m sure having your sentence extended didn’t help with that, but this is only going to make things worse for you in the long run. You can’t bargain your way out of this.”
“Maybe so, but I could kill her!”
“You what!” You shriek, nails sinking into the arm pinned across your front, but they both summarily ignore you.
“That’d show you not to mess with me!” George continues on. “I’m serious, you know! I’ll do it!”
“And why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?” Wriothesley shoots right back. “If you’re hoping to spend the rest of your life in Meropide you don’t have to do this to accomplish that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
“Dammit, I want out of here! I can’t stand this place! No sun, no fresh air, no sky! It feels like I’m going crazy down here!”
“Then let her go. You still have a chance to return to the surface someday and you’ll get to see the sky as much as you want then, but that’s not going to happen if you keep this up. If you extend your sentence much further, you’re just going to seal your own fate. Permanently.”
That actually seems to give him pause, and you hold your breath in anticipation of the pin dropping even when your chest strains and aches in protest. You almost didn’t dare to hope that he would actually listen to reason when you were viscerally aware of all the impotent rage and unrealized frustration coursing through his body, making him shake against you. It didn’t appear to be a bluff, at least not where you were standing. You think he really could kill you if pushed far enough, but … slowly, his hold on you eventually starts to relax.
“I don’t want to be trapped under the ocean for the rest of my life …” He murmurs, a brief glimpse of cognizance returning to him after that manic flash.
“Then hand the young lady over to me and let’s be done with it. I think this has gone on long enough, George.”
Carefully reaching out for you, Wriothesley takes a step forward. His ability to stay cool and collected even in a situation like this surprises you a great deal, of course, but you find some amount of comfort in his unflappable demeanor. It helps you stay calm, in as much as you’re able to at least, and a dull wave of relief washes over you when George reluctantly pushes you away from himself, shoving you straight into Wriothesley’s waiting arm.
You almost don’t believe it as his hand grabs around your waist and tightly gathers you up against him, angling you further from the inmate. It felt like you were dreaming. Numb to everything that had happened over the last few inexplicably short moments, you turn in his hold just in time to watch Wriothesley snag George’s wrist before he can pull it back all the way.
And just like that, he snaps the bone with one solid twist.
The sickening crack! that rings out makes your stomach lurch up into your throat.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Slamming Wriothesley’s office door open hard enough to make it bang against the interior wall, you storm inside so mad you could just scream!
He comes in behind you at a leisurely pace just a moment later, taking his time to close and lock it, but you’re a little too caught up in the absolutely blinding surge of anger you’re trying to wrestle with to question it. Seething viciously, you start to pace the perimeter of the room. It’s all you can think to do. You wanted to scream at him, kick him, slap him, spit at him! What was wrong with this man that he would ever think that kind of violence was okay?
“Are you alright?” He eventually asks you, just standing there in the doorway watching you stomp around his office as if it were a perfectly normal sight to see. That evenly tempered, almost blase tone of his voice just makes you see red though, and you finally round on him with a wordless shriek.
“Why did you do that to him?”
“He was dangerous.” Wriothesley says it like it should have been obvious. “I think he made that quite clear, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter! He’d already let me go, you didn’t need to hurt him like that! It was just excessive at that point, you damn brute!”
“That doesn’t mean he couldn't still hurt you. You’re not stupid, little miss. I know you’re aware of just how differently that could have played out if he hadn’t listened to me, and I wasn’t about to risk him changing his mind and having the means to lash out. You’re acting like I killed the poor guy.”
You couldn’t seem to process his logic and, with no other choice, you return to your fitful pacing. “I don’t understand you. It doesn’t even make any sense. You say you care about your inmates but then you turn around and do something like that?”
“I care about you too.”
Stopping dead in your tracks, you slowly turn to look back at him again. The chill that creeps over you is suffocating, threatening to choke you up on the spot. “No. Do not do that. Not right now!”
“But it’s true.”
“I don’t care if it’s true!” You shout, impulsively closing the distance so you can jab your finger into the center of his chest. “You broke that man’s wrist, your grace! That was uncalled for! If you cared about him, or the others, or me you wouldn’t have done something so — so unnecessarily violent! He was just … he was just scared, is all. I think.”
Wriothesley reaches up to carefully take your hand off him and you flinch at the contact but still let him do it because … because you don’t know why. You’re well aware you should be yanking out of his hold like he’d scalded you, skin crawling at just the touch of those rough worn fingers, but you can’t quite bring yourself to do that right now. Not when it felt like you were moments away from shattering to pieces right there in his office.
“You think?”
“I don’t know. Not really, but … he could have hurt me if he wanted to, right? But he didn’t. He only used me like a shield because you were coming, and he panicked. I can’t really blame him for that. I’d be scared too.”
“I bet.” He murmurs, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the backs of your loosely curled knuckles. Grimacing at the gesture, unable to reconcile it in your mind — this soft version of the duke and the brutal prison warden — and you quickly look away. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy with how I handled the situation. I probably did frighten you, and you have my sincerest apologies for that as well, little miss. But you have to understand that I was protecting you.”
“I didn’t ask to be protected!” You seethe. “Least of all like that!”
“Be that as it may, I still did what needed to be done. I already told you once, didn’t I? I’m your guard dog. You were in danger and I acted accordingly. It’s not fair of you to be so upset with me when I was only doing my job.”
“But there must have been another way - -“
“There wasn’t. Believing any different is just naive and childish. You need to let go of this little fantasy you have that everything can be solved peacefully if you’re just nice enough. That’s not how the real world works.”
You jerk your attention up with a low snarl, but he just looks at you with the same unreadable expression as always. He wasn’t the least bit sorry, nor did he feel any real regret for what he’d done. Not only that but he would have done it again without a second's hesitation. You could see it in his face, clear as day. He may as well have been saying it out loud for as little he tries to hide it.
“It doesn’t work with violence either.” You finally rattle out, shaking in his hold.
“I’d say my methods are a bit more effective than yours. You’re safe, aren’t you? If anything, you should be thanking me.”
Your pulse spikes as you wrench your hand free and slap him as hard as you can, popping him right across the mouth. Wriothesley doesn’t even flinch and that just makes you angrier. Going up on the tips of your toes to get as close to him as you’re able to, you hiss at him with every bit of vitriol you can muster. “Is that thanks enough for you, your grace?”
Terse silence descends over the room, interspersed only by your heavy breathing. At length, he finally draws a short, clipped breath.
“I’m going to give you one chance and one chance only to apologize for doing that. I do hope you make the right decision.”
Veins turning icy, you bring your hands up to shove at his chest and push yourself away. “You wouldn’t dare. Not right now. Not when I’m so mad at you I could just - -“
He’s on you in an instant.
For someone so big he certainly moves quick, and you barely have enough time to suck in a ragged, gasping breath of air as he roughly grabs under your arms and hauls you right up off your feet. The sudden rush of movement makes you nauseous, your stomach flipping end over end. Throwing your head back, you suck in a mouthful of air to scream.
Wriothesley abruptly drops you back down to the floor before you can follow through and the sudden impact makes sharp, splintering pain race up your legs. That split second hesitation on your part is all he needs to get a hand over your mouth and your eyes go big in wild terror as he all but drags you by the back of your jumper towards the chaise lounge against the far wall. You wrench against his hold like a trapped animal, desperate and mindless as you shriek behind his palm, but the sound comes out muffled. Distant. There’s nothing at all you can do to stop it as he pulls you over and plops down on the cushions before yanking you down to kneel between his feet.
You wince at the way your knees slam against the unforgiving ground but you don’t get a chance to fully process the hurt. He bends over you and reaches back to grab the back of your pants, using them to yank you up and brace you over his thigh. His hand stays locked around your mouth though, making it hard to breathe when you were sucking in quick, panicked gasps, one right after another as you frantically try to shove at him.
His hand abruptly cracks across your ass with enough force to leave you seeing stars, and you wordlessly shriek into his palm. Winded and lurching, you instinctively try to angle away from him but the way he’s got you trapped between his legs makes it impossible to get very far. He hits you again, right on the mark, and hot tears immediately rush up to flood your eyes. Wailing in pain and impotent frustration now, you blindly reach up to shove at his arm.
Wriothesley’s fingers just tighten around the lower half of your face though, securing his hold on you, while the other hand continues to rain down on your bottom in quick, blistering succession. Even through your pants it makes your toes curl achingly tight as you writhe there on the floor, rocking against his leg with each punishing blow.
You couldn’t believe him, doing this to you in a situation like this! It was one thing when you were being bratty or stubborn, or hardheaded, and you’d even come to rather enjoy those intimate sessions with him in which he’d gradually break you down piece by piece before building you back up into a whole, complete person again. It was strangely relaxing, comforting even. Therapeutic. But this was something else entirely. You were mad for a good reason. You’d hit him for a good reason! It wasn’t fair that he could spank your ass red and raw, but you couldn’t even slap him once without incurring his wrath.
So caught up in the tumultuous surge of emotions assaulting you all at once, you almost don’t realize when the tears start tracking down your face. They burn against your heated skin and pool in the seam where his hand is sealed over your face from the nose down, gathering there before eventually dribbling over his blunt knuckles. He has to feel it, has to know you’re crying, practically sobbing, but still he doesn’t stop. He just keeps spanking you, again and again, again, until the throbbing pain scorching across your defenseless backside seems to reach incomprehensible levels that have you struggling just to think through it.
And you try to, desperate to cling to your anger and your fear, the betrayal you’d felt when he broke that poor man’s wrist right in front of your very eyes with hardly any effort at all to show for it. You hadn’t thought him capable. Even now when he was lighting your ass up it seemed like an entirely inconceivable notion for him to be capable of that level of cruelty. But it’s next to impossible to hold onto any of those thoughts or feelings when you were so swept up in the pulsing thrum of hurt he’s inflicting on you and slowly, ever so slowly, your mind starts to go blank.
Evidently feeling you go lax against his knee in acceptance, Wriothesley’s voice starts to drift over you and it seamlessly penetrates the fog hanging over your head to dig straight into your brain. “I’m not sure who you think you are,” whap, whap, whap, whap, “But I have to say,” whap, whap, whap, whap, “I’m actually rather impressed you had the guts to do that,” whap, whap, whap, whap “I suppose that’s why I like you so much though,” whap, whap, whap, whap, “You're so damn bullheaded you just don’t know when to quit.”
Groaning deliriously into the meat of his hand, you mechanically bring your hand down to clutch his pant leg in a death grip while the other blindly stretches back as if to protect yourself from his strikes. He pauses above you as your trembling fingers creep across your bottom, drawing a clipped, mildly annoyed breath.
“Move your hand.”
You wail something that might have been a ‘no!’, incomprehensibly muffled, and he clicks his tongue at the petulance.
“Don’t test my patience with you any further, little girl. You have no idea just how much I can really make it hurt if you want to be cute.”
Noising a sound of surprised confusion, you hastily retract your hand in favor of shoving it up against his stomach and pushing at him with renewed determination, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. Leaning forward, he reaches down the front of your body to fumble with the buttons on your pants. You squeal a muffled protest and try to angle away again to no avail. It takes him a prolonged moment to get them with the use of only one hand, but eventually he has your slacks undone and he starts to roughly shove them down your quaking thighs.
“You know,” He says almost conversationally, as calm as ever while your internal panic was just ratcheting higher and higher. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, so let me explain something to you. There’s a right way and a wrong way to go about things, and somehow you always seem to consistently pick the wrong choice. I don’t mind so much that you’re upset with me. I still don’t think that was very fair of you, but you’re entitled to your own opinion. I’m certainly not trying to take that away from you.”
He’s finally got your pants bunched around your knees but, rather than spanking you over your panties next, he instead starts to yank those down too. A violent shudder tears through you at the implication, the suggestion, your blood running so hot for him it has you swaying there on the floor even as you give your head a weak shake. If he was skipping the usual buildup then he must have been rather upset with you indeed.
“But as always you get too carried away. You won’t stop until you push me enough to end up over my knee, getting your butt spanked like a child.” He swats your bare ass for emphasis, making you shriek and sob at the pulsing sting as much as the resulting jiggle it causes. “Do you have anything to say for yourself? Huh?”
You nod your head frantically, noising behind his hand, and Wriothesley gives your face a dull squeeze of warning.
“I’m going to take my hand away but I promise if you scream you’re going to find yourself getting hit with something much worse than a hairbrush, do you understand me?”
Another nod, even more wild than the last.
Slowly, his fingers loosen and then tentatively fall away, leaving you to gasp wretchedly at the flood of fresh air. You slump against him and try to catch your breath, wet little hiccups making your back bow. “I … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — shouldn’t have hit you!”
“I’d say that’s an understatement.”
Forcibly pulling yourself up even though it hurts to do so, you twist on your knees to peer up at him. Your lower lip promptly wobbles when you see the hard way he’s looking at you but you just sniffle and reach up to wipe at your tear stained face. “You made me so mad! And you never take me seriously! I tell you something and it seems like you always just brush me off!”
Wriothesley watches you shake and heave for a drawn out moment before sedately slouching down, elbows shifting forward to brace against his knees so he can lean over you. The gesture makes you feel so incredibly small and insignificant, a borderline hysterical sob bursting out of your mouth which you quickly cover with your hand. You screw your eyes shut, trying to calm down, but he just hovers over you like that in complete and utter silence until the shudders wracking through you get too uncontrollable and you start to sway dizzily on the floor.
His nearest hand finds your back and smooths over it in comforting circles, wrinkling your jumper in the process. Sucking in a thin, gasping breath, you instinctively rock forward as if to heave but all you do is cough like some sad, pathetic broken little thing.
“Calm down,” He murmurs, giving your trembling shoulders a firm pat. “You’re going to make yourself sick carrying on like that. Will you listen to me?”
Sniveling, you blink through the thick sheen of tears making your vision swim and nod your head with a faint whimper. His hand stills on your back, keeping you in place as he leans further down to your level and tips his head so he can see your face.
“I wasn’t brushing you off. I understand why that upset you and I’m nothing if not sympathetic. Really, I am. If you want the honest truth of it, I regretted it almost as soon as I did it. I’ll have to apologize to George later and have a real long talk with him about what happened, but I’m not going to apologize for protecting you. You’re under my charge regardless of if we’re in the city or your house, but especially when you’re here. If something happened to you on my watch, that would be a resounding failure on my part. Can you understand that much, at least?”
You hesitate and then nod your head again, not quite trusting yourself enough to speak yet. Wriothesley gives you an approving squeeze and another idle pat that makes you whimper softly. His hand was so big it felt like it was taking up almost the whole of your back …
“I didn’t mean to scare you … you know that, right?”
“Y - yes …”
“Good. Because that I will apologize for. It was unnecessary. I should have completely removed you from the situation first before acting but he just had me so mad, I wasn’t thinking straight, and … honestly, I probably owe you an apology for that too I had some reservations about letting him come to the meeting of course, given his track record, but I thought maybe it would help him adjust a little better if he had something from the overworld to keep him busy. Preoccupied.”
Gingerly, you shift on your knees so you’re knelt directly under him rather than braced up against his leg, and you lift your hands to hesitantly slide them across his strong jawline. Wriothesley let’s you do it, much to your thrumming relief, and you carefully tip his face towards you until just a scant breath separates his nose from yours.
“What’s going to happen to him now?”
He just looks at you, and your face slowly starts to crumple.
“Please don’t let him get into trouble.” You plead, unable to bear the thought of his sentence being extended because of you. “It was just a mistake and I wasn’t hurt. He didn’t do anything wrong, your grace! Not really. Please, please don’t punish him.”
Stiffly, he sighs out through his nose. “And there you go being naive again. I’m afraid there’s not much I can do to protect him at this point. He’s sealed his own fate.”
“But that’s … that’s terrible! If I hadn’t been there — if you hadn’t let me come here that never would have even happened! I’m the one at fault here, aren’t I? I’ll take the punishment in his stead! That would be fine, right?”
“Lovely girl - -“
Wriothesley reaches out with his other hand to cup your face and you try to pull away, a fresh wave of tears springing up in your eyes, but he holds you fast. Tipping his head, he seals his mouth over yours and swallows down the muffled wail you let out. Even when the rolling beads of moisture start to track down your damp face, he just kisses you and kisses you until you finally start to stir underneath him some indeterminable amount of time later.
You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting there on the floor but your legs are numb and prickly when you finally move, shifting forward to lean into him. Your breaths are still a little ragged through your nose but you start to kiss him back, tentatively slow at first and then with growing confidence. Growing hunger. The emptiness inside you is quickly filling up with a white hot, molten need, and you groan thickly into his mouth when you feel your pussy give a muted throb of interest. It matches the ever present sting across your ass, in a way, and you feel both in stunning high definition as you carefully raise up to meet him.
Gradually easing back when you find your balance and sit up straight, Wriothesley brings his hands around to cup your ribcage. He squeezes, rucking up your jumper and blouse in the process but, as always, he doesn’t try to relieve you of it. That he was still willing to go about this on your terms, at your pace, fills your chest with a strange helium feeling, and you try to follow after him when he eventually pulls back all the way, whining low in your throat at the loss.
“Come here, pretty girl.” He murmurs, tugging you up to stand and you do so with a great deal of haste even when your sore legs threaten to give out under you. Bracing a hand on his broad shoulder to steady yourself, you carefully step out of your sagging pants and underwear when he stoops down to pull them over your feet.
Carelessly tossing your clothes aside, he grabs around your middle again and easily tugs you into his lap. Your heart pounds a wild beat inside your chest when you realize he’s centering you over his leg, and you quickly scramble to get into position. There’s no denying the excitement you feel searing your veins now, the speed at which you’d come to love this particular activity surprising even you. It felt like you were irreversibly addicted to it, and you moan very softly when your bare cunt presses down into his thigh. Pelvis tipping upward, you steal a quick glance down at yourself, still amazed at how broad and thick his leg looks under you. It’s not exactly hard to imagine something else forcing your thighs into a wide spread around him but that still scares a little more than you were willing to admit.
Gently pulling you forward so that your cunt rocks down to settle squarely against his pant leg, Wriothesley gathers you right up against his chest and bends his head to yours again. You moan into the searing hot kiss and bring your hands up to clutch at him, the toes of your shoes bracing on the floor to give yourself leverage as you settle into a slow, mind numbing pace with him.
It truly feels like your brain is melting when the stilted friction on your pussy soon makes you tremble and shake for him, panting heavily into his mouth. You’re distantly aware of the stiff tension in his body but Wriothesley just lets you find your pleasure on him without trying to take advantage of your muddied, intoxicated state. His hands roam over your body in a continuous caress, pinching, squeezing, kneading with rough calloused fingers, but he doesn’t wander to your chest or between your legs. He’d only touched you there once, back in that cramped little alley, but thinking back on it when you were moving with him like this … maybe you should invite him to touch you there again? It would probably feel good, and grinding yourself on his leg was such a slow, tortuous process.
Or maybe you could try touching him?
Turning your head to suck in a much needed lungful of fresh air, you take a moment to steady your nerves. You’d never crossed this line before, never been brave enough to take the plunge but, oh, you were so curious and your pussy positively clenches at the thought of feeling him under your palm. You wanted to touch him. You needed to.
“Y - your grace …”
“What is it, pretty girl? What do you need?” He breathes into the scant pace separating you from him, head tipped back to look at your from this slightly elevated position.
An intense shudder works through you at the thought of actually doing it, of actually saying the words, and you loose a keening mewl as you stubbornly turn your head to look elsewhere. You couldn’t look at him and say it, you just couldn’t!
“Can … ahhn, would it be permissible for me to, um — t - touch you as well?”
His thick fingers give a muted little jolt of surprise where they’re squeezing around your waist, and you tightly screw your eyes shut when he leans in to kiss the side of your neck. “Oh, little miss. You don’t have to ask. You can touch me as much as you want.”
Trembling there on his lap, you hesitate to do it but finally gather enough courage to drag your hand down off his shoulder. Shyly watching the slow descent of it down his broad barrel chest, over his stomach, all the way down to the center of his lap. You give a tiny little jerk when you see the stiff outline pressing up against the interior, the motion of your hips inelegantly stuttering as you take in the shape of it, the size. It was indeed quite large, your heart nearly giving out entirely in your overwhelmed horror, but … but like this it wasn’t quite so bad. Not as scary as if you were perhaps looking at it straight on.
Timidly cautious, you press your fingers over the outline and Wriothesley breathes out a thick, heavy sound that is suspiciously reminiscent of a growl. It seems to vibrate through you, pulling a quiet whimper out of your throat, but you force yourself to stay focused. Your curiosity was a little too compelling to get sidetracked now, and even your mindless rutting against him slows to a complete standstill while you feel along the length of him, just familiarizing yourself with the press of it against your hand. Even through his slacks it seems heavy and it’s so incredibly warm that you feel a dull, sympathetic tremor deep inside your cunt.
Evidently realizing just how distracted you were, Wriothesley pulls back from your neck enough to look down at himself as well. “Is it so fascinating?”
“A little bit …”
He laughs, sounding mildly strained. “If you’re curious I’ll teach you about it, but I won’t make you do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. In this, at least, I’ll play by your rules.”
And he’d done such a good job respecting your boundaries thus far … perhaps it was alright to test the waters some. To give in to this primal urge coursing through your system, making you feel indescribably hot and mindless.
“Would it really fit inside me?”
The hushed noise he makes sounds so wounded it actually startles your attention up, and you take in his pained expression with great big eyes.
“W - what? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing. Please don’t start getting defensive, now of all times.” Grunting, Wriothesley grabs under your arms as he shifts back further against the lounge so he can rather gingerly recline back, pulling you right along with him. The careful motion stretches you out across his body to rest against his chest, prompting you to readjust the way you're straddling his thigh to keep your thrumming cunt pressed up tight against it. Letting out a shuddering exhale, he shifts underneath you just so before tipping his face down again. “If you say things like that you’re going to make this go crazy, and I’m not so sure you’re ready for that yet. Try rubbing it, like this.”
You can’t quite stop the squeak of surprise that bursts out of you when he reaches over to grab your stilled hand. Redirecting you to the center of the bulge, he manually squeezes your trembling fingers around him and your skin positively crawls with an eruption of goosebumps when you feel it pulse against your palm. Wide eyed and quaking, you slowly bring your gaze back down to watch him guide your hand up along the rigid length and then back down again. You’d never before seen anything quite like it, but there was a very real, very primitive part of your brain that abruptly clicks on at the sight of it.
“Will it hurt?”
“No.” He grunts, still dragging your hand up and down, up and down the length of him. “It feels good. Like when you rub that cute pussy all over my leg. You can squeeze it, if you want.”
Experimentally, you do just that and the responding twitch of Wriothesley’s cock has your cunt repeatedly clamping down on nothing, a harried, deeply frazzled whine rising in you. It was like you were cumming, but not really. You felt close, though. As if just touching him like this, feeling the hot, pulsing need of him in the palm of your hand was stoking your own fire. Building your own pleasure up into something that was very nearly palpable.
More confident this time, you give him another squeeze, and he makes a rumbling, needy sound in the back of his throat. Consumed with your own wanton need, you turn your head to look at him again and a distant thrill of surprise rushes through you when you find those deep sapphires watching you. Not your hand on him, but you.
“Am I really making you feel good, your grace?”
“Very much so.”
Smiling, you lean up to press your mouth to his. He watches you do it, accepts your kiss, and a stilted puff of air rattles out of him to dance over your lips. You’ve never seen him hold himself quite so stiffly before but he starts to kiss you back just a heartbeat later, slowly at first and then with more demanding force behind the motion. Just like every other time he pulls you into his pace with ease, soon dominating the exchange while his hand continues to stroke yours over his trapped cock. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling impatient like this, indescribably needy, and you wriggle yourself down on his leg in search of more friction. Wriothesley gladly obliges you, curling his leg up a little higher to press more firmly into your cunt to make you keen at the sensation.
As you start to ride him again, the hand that had remained carefully on your back this entire time starts to drag lower, tracing the curve of your waist and further still to smooth over your reddened bottom. You suck in a sharp breath at the sting but it just seems to make your pussy clench and drool even more obscenely. Rearing back against his hand, you give his length another tight squeeze to pull a low groan out of him.
“You are a real menace, pretty girl.” He softly chides you, pulling back just enough to look in your face. “For as prim and proper as you like to act, you’re certainly an insatiable little thing.”
You start to apologize for it, but then think better of it. “Do you like it, your grace?”
“More than I’d like to admit.”
Your breath catches at that and you lurch on top of him when a warning tremor tears through your shuddering body. “Will … will you bounce your leg against me?”
“Of course.” Eyelids drooping to attractive halfmast, Wriothesley presses his forehead against yours and tenderly nudges at your nose. “Shall I spank you while I do it? Something tells me you’d like that an awful lot.”
“Ooh … yes, your grace, please spank me.”
Another rumbling groan rises in him, eyes drifting shut as if in great pleasure. You don’t get a chance to linger on how positively devastating he looks like that because he presses his thigh up into you, sending you lurching with a faltering, deeply wounded sound. The motion of his leg jostles you slightly, prompting you to clutch at him all the more fervently — one latched around his cock and the other clinging to his neck — and you toss your head back with a high pitched squeal when he suddenly swats your ass without warning. You waver, hesitate for only a blink of the eye, and then you’re driving your cunt down to meet him with fast mounting urgency.
“Oohh, gods —“
Swat! Across the other cheek to make the meaty swell bounce.
A deeply flustered sound punches its way out of your mouth, hips swiveling desperately. “Ahhn, ahh! Y - your grace! Nggnh!”
Swat! The first cheek again, this time with a possessive squeeze afterward that makes your toes curl.
“I’d say I could never get tired of watching you bounce that pretty pussy on my leg, but I’d hate to discourage you from wanting to try anything else.”
Your tense fingers impulsively squeeze down on his cock, making his chest hitch, and you seethe through your teeth at the quickly cresting waves of ecstasy washing over you. You were close, so close.
“Please —“ Swat! Swat! First one cheek and then the next, in rapid succession. “Ooh! God! I - I want it, your grace! I want it!”
Swat!
“What do you want, lovely girl?” Wriothesley grunts, his own voice faltering now.
“I - I want this!” You give his length a desperate squeeze, so lightheaded and dizzy you barely even know what you’re saying anymore.
Swat!
“It’s already yours, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready for it, you’ll have it.”
The thought alone of taking him deep inside your body makes every single muscle in your shuddering frame lock up, and you lurch to a sudden standstill on top of him. Your mouth drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out when he just keeps bouncing his leg on your drooling cunt, quicker now. A little harder. You sway unsteadily as your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, chest heaving with the gasps you frantically try to suck in but you can’t quite seem to get enough air. It felt like you were smothering under the intense pressure, hanging right on the precipice.
Swat!
“Cum for me, cum all over my leg and let me see that pretty face you make.” He practically growls, grabbing a tight, pinching handful of your ass to really drive the sting home.
It’s that sharp, toe curling throb of pain that tips you over, and you cum with a gutted lurch. Wheezing, you arch against him so hard your spine aches in protest but you can’t stop it. Your hips judder wildly and your knees nearly give out from how hard it slams into you all at once, but he clutches you tight in his arms while you spasm and writhe, squealing in mindless delight. It’s all you can do just to keep your voice down, painfully aware that the two of you were not in the privacy of your flat, but you manage, somehow, to get through it without shrieking at the top of your lungs.
You’re so exhausted and drained by the time the tremors finally ebb and fade that you collapse on top of him with a deeply frazzled groan. Giving your bottom one final, lingering squeeze, Wriothesley drags his hand back up to rub across your back and a faint shudder ripples through you when you feel him bend close to place a brief kiss to the top of your head.
It was … really nice, actually, sharing such a quiet, intimate moment with him. It wouldn’t be hard to get used to it. In fact, you dully realize, you kind of already were.
“You’re such a good girl for me sometimes.” He murmurs into your hair, his voice warm with praise and affection alike. “It just makes me wonder why you can’t be so good all the time.”
“That would get boring.” You dazedly slur, making him chuckle.
“That’s true. There’s no fun in it without a little power struggle first.”
You hum a noncommittal sound, already half dozed off where you’re spread out on top of him when a muted twitch under your loosely curled palm makes you jolt. Blearily lifting your head from his chest, you glance down to find him still rock hard in his pants and your brows quickly draw together in confusion.
“You didn’t - -“
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll go away.”
“But - -“
“Hush. Just do as I say for once and let it go.” Reaching up to palm the back of your head, he forces your cheek back down to his chest and holds you there even when you weakly try to struggle out from under it. “You really aren’t making this easy on me, you know that? Saying all that nonsense and now this. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about, little miss. Not yet.”
Your mouth pulls in a pout even though he can’t see it. “Will you teach me more later?” It’s little more than a mouse squeak when you were so tired, so exhausted after everything that had transpired today.
Wriothesley seems to think on that for a moment before softly pressing another kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll teach you everything in due time. You just need to be patient. I don’t want you to get so caught up in the moment that you rush into something only to regret it later. As I said before, I’m a guarddog. I'm not interested in biting the hand holding my leash.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You aren’t sure when, exactly, you fell asleep, but you wake up on the lounge some time later, finding yourself blinking up at the ceiling of his office in a bit of a daze. You’re a little disoriented at first and then you remember where you were. Everything that had happened. The meeting with the inmates. That horrible incident with George. The sound slap you’d given Wriothesley right across his stupid smug mouth. The way you’d crawled into his lap and …
You bolt upright with a soul sucking gasp. Your instinctive panic is immediately interrupted, however, when you realize his coat is now pooled in your lap, and you blink down at it with owlish surprise. He’d given you his jacket while you slept?
“Ah, you’re finally awake. I was wondering how long you’d be out for.”
Startling, you twist around on the lounge to look over at the desk where you find Wriothesley reading over a small stack of paperwork in his hand while the other lifts a steaming cup of tea up to his mouth. You could smell it from where you were sitting, the rich aroma drawing you a little further out of your half asleep stupor and a bit more into reality. Archons, you felt like you were dying of thirst.
“You wouldn't happen to have an extra cup for me, would you?”
“Of course I do. Don’t be silly.” Setting his own back down after taking a sip, he sedately glances over at you from across the room. “I even grabbed some sandwiches and cookies for you from the cafeteria. I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up.”
You immediately realize that that was an understatement. You weren’t just hungry, you were famished!
But when you move to get up, pulling his coat off your lap, you abruptly come to a screeching halt. Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, you stare down at your bare legs in abject disbelief. “Where are my pants?”
“Don’t sound so alarmed. I put them somewhere safe.”
“Well, I’d like to have them back!” You snap, shooting daggers over at him.
Humming as if in thought, Wriothesley drops the paperwork on top of the desk and reclines back into his chair. “I don’t think so. Not just yet anyway. I’m not quite through with you yet.”
A shudder races up your stiffening spine, and you nervously gather his heavy jacket close to your chest, clutching at it. “W - what does that mean? I thought you said you’d let me decide when I was ready?”
He barks a quick laugh. “I don’t mean that. I’m talking about your punishment from earlier. We got a little sidetracked, didn’t we?”
“Oh.” Heaving a long suffering sigh, you roll your eyes and move to stand up. Keeping his coat held to your front, you slowly shuffle over to the desk to stand in front of it. “Is that really necessary? I understand why you had to do it, even if I don’t agree with your methods.”
Idly tapping his finger on the sturdy wood, he just silently studies you for a long moment. “It’s not exactly about agreeing with me.” He says at length. “I’m still waiting on an apology, for starters.”
You promptly shrink in on yourself. “You hit me all the time …”
“No, what I do is spank your bratty little bottom to sort you out. I don’t hit you across the face, and I never would unless you asked me to.”
“Why would I - -“
“Do not try to change the subject. I told you once before that I’m not so easily distracted, didn’t I?”
He tips his head to one side as if to further drive his point home, and you feel your cheeks start to warm. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”
“Ah, so you have been paying attention then. Good. I know firsthand just how smart you really are so I do expect you to start figuring things out, the more time we spend together. And I do hope that you’ll continue to share more with me.”
You hesitate at the first inkling that something was not quite right here. He was talking about more than just the slap, wasn’t he? But what else could there be that he wanted to talk about?
“I do enjoy spending time with his grace,” You say slowly, warily. “Even if he does make me feel uniquely harassed half of the time. And I’m sorry for hitting you. You’re right that there’s a difference between the two. I tried to hurt you out of anger, while you do it to —“
Wriothesley chuckles when you search for the word only to come up empty handed, the smile tugging at his mouth equally roguish and charming. “To correct you. I can’t deny that you can be a little frustrating sometimes, but I’m sure the same can be said of me. In fact, I know it can. But I don’t hit you in anger. Not when I’m nearly double your size and weight. To allow my self control to slip even slightly would be … reckless indeed, because I could seriously hurt you. I’m always careful to make sure I’m fully aware of what I’m doing and how hard I’m doing it before I ever put my hands on you, little miss. I hope you know that.”
Your back straightens when it suddenly hits you. That’s what he was worried about?
“Are you afraid I won’t want to see you anymore after the way you … broke George’s wrist earlier?”
A long stretch of quiet settles over the office, perfectly still and perfectly quiet.
“A little.” He says at last. “I couldn’t exactly blame you if that was the decision you came to, but I’d still be a bit — disappointed to lose you. A lot, actually. I enjoy our time together too.”
You swallow. Hard. “Your grace, I … I won’t deny that you scared me earlier, but it’s not like it was the first time. You’ve made me nervous and frightened, and happy, and sad, and so incredibly confused I could just tear my own hair out sometimes, but — I was more frightened for George than myself, if I’m being honest. I was scared you were going to hurt him.”
“And then I did.” He says simply, and you nod.
“Yes. Frankly, I was horrified. That’s why I got so mad at you. I never thought you’d actually be capable of something like that, and I guess I didn’t really know how to react. But you’ve never made me feel like I was truly in danger. I’ve never worried about you breaking my arm, or snapping me in half even though I’m sure you easily could. I’m not scared of you, your grace. I just … I don’t want to see you hurt anyone else, least of all because of me.”
He lets that settle for a drawn out beat, clearly turning everything over in his head, before decisively leaning forward to grab up the teapot sitting on a tray at the corner of the desk. “Well, I can’t exactly promise you that. Should the need ever arise again, I won’t hesitate to protect you. Especially if it’s one of my inmates trying to cause you harm. But with that being said,” He starts to pour out a second cup, also taken off the tray. Your eyes voraciously wander over to the little plate covered with a tin lid, knowing there were promised sandwiches and cookies hiding underneath, and your stomach churns in hunger. “I solemnly swear that from here on out I will do everything in my power to avoid it ever coming to that. If we can stop it from reaching that point then surely both of us will be satisfied. Does that sound like a reasonable compromise to you?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“Excellent. Then come sit on my lap and help yourself to some food and tea. I’m sure you’re starving.”
For once you only feel slightly hesitant to heed his command without needing to be told twice, and you eagerly shuffle around the desk to join him. You’re able to hide the nudity of your lower half behind his coat which you keep tucked around your waist even as you get settled on his legs. It was a seat you were quickly (perhaps even embarrassingly so) getting used to, and the thick arm that snakes around your middle to secure you in place was likewise becoming something comfortably familiar as well.
The first thing you reach for is the plate, stretching across the desk to pull it closer so you can peel away the lid and find out what’s inside. A handful of neatly sliced sandwiches of a few different varieties greets you, as well as a small pile of assorted biscuits. You don’t hesitate to snag one up and pop it into your mouth, humming in delight at the taste. Chuckling softly, Wriothesley gives you a brief squeeze around the middle as his other hand slides over to pick up the abandoned stack of papers again.
“Are you aware just how adorable you can be at times?”
Humming in agreement, you covetously go for a sandwich next. “His grace flatters me.”
“Brat.” Giving your tummy an affectionate pinch, he turns his attention to the papers. “Another question, if you would be kind enough to humor me. Are you aware that you’ve earned yourself a few fans here in the prison?”
You freeze in place with the dainty little triangle lifted half of the way to your waiting mouth. “I beg your pardon?”
“Belle, the woman at the meeting earlier, slipped this note into my mailbox some time ago. She apologizes for what happened with George, and she wishes you a speedy recovery with hopes that you’ll return soon to start your sewing classes. You’re welcome to read it for yourself if you’d like.”
Slowly, you lower the sandwich and reach out for the paper. You’re more than a little surprised to find it says exactly what he’s relayed to you. “Wha — but I don’t understand?” Dropping the sandwich altogether now, you numbly flip to the next page only to find a second letter written in two different but equally terrible sets of handwriting. Those brothers.
“Don’t pay them much mind.” He murmurs as you scan over the, frankly, perplexing note. “They’re trouble, but mostly harmless. I won’t go so far as to say they mean well, but …”
Thoroughly perplexed, you flip to the final page. This one is rather neat and tidy, and relievingly concise, but you can’t quite place who it would have come from. All it says is that they hoped you wouldn’t be scared off by what happened, and that they looked forward to the program being a resounding success. It was of course very flattering but rather unexpected. A bit confounding, if you were being honest.
“Who wrote this one?”
“His name is Gaspard. You probably didn’t notice, but he was making puppy dog eyes at you the whole time.”
Flustered heat promptly crawls up your neck to settle deep in your cheeks. “Has anyone ever told you that your sense of humor leaves much to be desired, your grace?”
“Oh, I’m actually being quite serious. I thought for sure if I was going to have to pry someone off you it was going to be him.”
Another teasing pinch at your waist accompanies that and you sigh out through your nose, trying very hard not to let his foolishness distract you. “May I ask what he’s serving time for? This handwriting looks very well practiced, and his spelling is perfect.”
With a quiet hum, Wriothesley leans to the side to brace his chin in the palm of his hand. “He’s in for embezzlement.”
“Embezzlement!” You squawk, beyond horrified. “B - b - but if it’s the man I’m thinking of, he was so polite and quiet! I thought he was just shy so I didn’t want to draw too much attention to him!”
“Those are the ones you have to watch out for the most.” He laughs. “You’ll learn that in due time. The ones like George are mostly all bark and no bite, unless you back them into a corner. Gaspard’s type is way more dangerous because you can never be quite sure what they’re thinking.”
More than just a bit ruffled, you defensively clutch the small stack of letters to your chest. “So then I suppose that would put you in the latter category?”
“Hm … I suppose it would.”
With a click of your tongue, you set the papers aside and primly return to your sandwich. “Regardless, I think it’s clear how we should proceed. We need to get a seamstress out to the prison as soon as possible for Belle, and I’m sure we can find a willing chef for those two troublemakers as well.” You pause with the little triangle almost up to your mouth again, hesitating a moment before slowly lowering it once more. “That is — if you’d still like to work with me going forward. I’m sure you probably have some reservations after what happened today, but I promise I’ll be more cautious next time and - -“
“Hush. I’m not going to take it away from you like a toy you’re not allowed to play with anymore. You’ll still have your little program and I’ll still work with you to help you implement it. You’ll just have to be a bit more closely supervised with it going forward.”
“… you are truly detestable sometimes.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Wriothesley thankfully lets you eat in peace after that, and your stomach is quite glad for it. You happily scarf down two sandwiches and another cookie to go with your cup of tea, but you quickly begin to feel full. Eventually, you find yourself leaning back against his chest with your head resting along his shoulder, and you just quietly watch him work through a different stack of papers, this one much more formidable than your measly pile. You were going to cherish them forever though, even had half a mind to go out and have them framed immediately, but that seemed a little excessive, even for you.
The intimate atmosphere and the close proximity with him almost has you dozing again, but the large hand idly rubbing over your tummy keeps you more or less grounded in reality, you sigh, very softly, when he eventually gives you an attention grabbing pinch some indeterminable amount of time later.
“You’re not falling asleep on me again, are you?”
“No, your grace. I am only resting.”
“Good.” He says rather amicably, setting the sheet in his hand down. “Because there’s still the matter of your punishment to go over.”
Groaning, you let your head loll back against his shoulder to look up at the ceiling. “You really never let anything go, do you?”
“It would be remiss of me if I did. More importantly though, I wanted to show you something. Do you remember what I said earlier, about getting spanked with something much worse than a hairbrush?”
You immediately lurch on top of him, skin crawling at just the thought as you try to jump up off his lap and escape, but Wriothesley just tightens his arm around you to keep you pinned even when you inelegantly flail. “Wait — that’s not fair, your grace, I — ow!”
The hard slam of your knee against his desk has you whimpering in pain, and he quickly takes advantage of that stunned moment to haul you back and secure you more firmly in place. “That’s what you get for jumping to conclusions. Let that be a lesson to you.” Sighing, he presses his mouth to the top of your head in a lingering kiss while you try to shake out the hurt from your leg. “Troublesome girl.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you right now!” You snip, still rubbing at your bruised knee. “And what were you even talking about? I don’t think I deserve to be struck with a stick or a measuring rod, or — or - -“
“You don’t, you’re right about that. But I want to show you what comes after the hairbrush, if you’ll let me. I’d like to think having that knowledge in the back of your mind might give you enough incentive to make better decisions in the future, but given how hard headed you are … maybe it won’t.”
Huffing, you petulantly cross your arms. “You only want to show me?” You didn’t trust it at all. Not one bit.
“I planned to actually strike you with it, of course. Otherwise it would just be an empty threat and you’d have no baseline to gauge how far you’re willing to go just to throw a fit over something. But how about this? I’ll make you a deal. You like when I do that, don’t you?”
You were loath to admit it out loud but you did indeed, and your pussy slowly clenches with interest. Damn him straight to the abyss and back. “I’m listening.”
“Good girl. I figured you would be.” Another kiss pressed to the top of your head, his breath displacing some of the flyaways there. “You get to choose then. Would you like me to round off your punishment with my hand and twenty strokes of the hairbrush, or would you prefer to take six from the mystery implement?”
Twisting around in his hold, you look up at him in abject shock. “Only six?”
“Only six.” He confirms.
“And you won’t tell me what it is first? Is it really that bad?”
“No, and no. It’s just a different kind of pain, is all. Something you aren’t used to. I strongly suspect if I told you beforehand, you’d be too frightened to take it on and would instead gladly subject your poor bottom to a much worse fate than it needs to suffer.” Drawing a stilted breath, Wriothesley slips one of his hands under the jacket to caress along your bare thigh, warming the skin under his palm. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve already been appropriately corrected. There’s no need to actually take you over my knee unless you leave me with no other choice. The second option is preferable for both of us, first and foremost because I intend for it to be a warning more than anything. The choice is yours though, little miss. I am but at your beck and call.”
You snort at that and pin him with a wry look. “Sure. I might believe that when pigs fly.” With a shake of your head, you turn back around so you can slump against him, listlessly picking at the fur trim on his jacket in your lap while you think it over. One was obviously the better sounding choice but … didn’t that mean it was a trap?
Big, burly arms squeezing around you, Wriothesley bends close to kiss your temple, your cheek, down to your neck. They’re soft and fleeting, decidedly, chaste, and yet they still make your pulse start to thrum a little faster. You really were regrettably weak for him. It just wasn’t fair.
“May I add an extra term onto our deal?”
“Let’s hear it.”
“If I choose the second option, will … will you play with me afterward?”
He seems to hesitate against you, no doubt catching onto your meaning. “I was planning on doing that anyway. I always make sure you get rewarded at the end, don’t I?” A lingering kiss pressed into your temple.
You were really starting to become hot and flustered again, and it shows in the way your voice strains slightly. “I don’t mean like that. I — I think I want you to touch me, your grace.”
This time he really does go still. A long beat of quiet punctuates the moment, and then he shifts against you, speaking across the side of your face. “Where do you want me to touch you, pretty girl? Between your legs?”
Just hearing him say it makes you shudder from your head straight down to your toes, and you fitfully twist on his lap so you can tip your head back to look at him. “Everywhere, sir. Between my legs and — my chest too. If you want.”
“Of course I want to, silly thing.” Breathing out a rather terse exhale, he tips his head to kiss your mouth but it is regretfully short lived, and you whine softly when he retreats again. “I need you to clarify something for me first though, so I know exactly what it is you’re comfortable with. Do you want to get completely undressed for me or would you rather I touch you through your shirt?”
“O - oh.” You hadn’t thought about it that far, and you shyly avert your gaze. Although you did want to feel his hands on your breasts, the thought of being completely nude with him was a daunting one indeed. It was silly, of course, but that seemed like something of a big step and a potentially awkward one at that. “I … I don’t know if I’m ready to get naked yet so — through my shirt?”
“Through your shirt it is.” He agrees, pressing his mouth to your cheek in a hard, reassuring kiss. It makes you squirm, just a little bit, how willing he is to humor you in this way, but you think that it probably means more to you than you even fully realize. “You’re a good girl, you know that?” He murmurs against your skin. “I’m so proud of you for being honest with me. I know that’s not always easy for you to do.”
“Enough already.” You huff in embarrassed fluster, making him chuckle.
“Don’t start getting cranky. I don’t want to have to really spank you if I don’t have to.” Finally, he pulls all the way back to give you some space, patting your leg under the jacket. “Alright. Stand up and put your hands on the desk for me. We’ll do this standing up.”
Suddenly confused, you hesitate just a moment before rocking forward with no shortage of hesitation. He didn’t often strike you while standing. Usually only when he was made to grab you to stop you from scuttling away and a chair or other wasn’t readily available …
You try not to think about that too hard though as you find your feet with his coat somewhat awkwardly clutched to your front still. He reaches around to take it from you and you reluctantly let it go, shivering when it falls away to leave you bared from the waist down. Shuffling forward a step, you then reach out and slowly place your hands palm down on the desk while he stands up behind you, pushing the chair further back to allow for some space.
Wriothesley presses up close behind you then, making a fresh shudder work down your spine as he leans over you to gently reposition your palms a little further apart. He reaches down to take your waist next so he can carefully bend you forward with your legs squared, nice and firmly rooted. You aren’t quite sure what to make of it all but his hands feel decidedly nice on you, and you just sigh very softly when he moves back. The following moment or two of rustling further leaves you stumped, especially when you catch a soft metallic click on the air, and you have to try very hard not to turn around and look. He seemed quite sure whatever it was would startle you a great deal but …
When he eventually comes up beside you again, you turn your head to look at the hand he holds out towards you. Your brows make a prompt, very expeditious trip up to your hairline.
“Wha — y - your belt, sir?” You warble out on a squeak, genuinely flabbergasted by this revelation.
He chuckles faintly, snapping your wide eyed attention up at him so fast it nearly makes your head spin. “That look on your face is exactly why I didn’t tell you outright but it sounds worse than it actually is. At least the way I’m going to do it is.”
“W - which would be?” You ask, nervously glancing at the folded over strip of leather with a great deal of fast mounting horror.
“We’ll start off slow and work our way up in intensity, but even by the end I won’t be using too much force. My goal isn’t to actually hurt you, just teach you. See, the thing about this is it covers a wider area. I can strike you across both cheeks in one swing, and the relative flexibility of the leather means it carries a sharper sting with it as well. I don’t think it’ll take much to have you dancing on your toes, so I probably won’t even end up using a fraction of my strength when all is said and done. Does all of that sound agreeable to you, little miss?”
You work to swallow down your nerves and almost choke on it. “I … I suppose so. But — if I really can’t take it, will you stop?”
“Of course I will. I have no interest in brutalizing you or anything of the sort. That being said though I’m confident that you’ll do just fine. Who knows? You might even enjoy it.”
A wholly mirthless laugh punches out of your throat. “I’m really not sure about that, your grace.”
“Then let’s find out.”
Transfixed, you follow the motion of the folded over belt when he lifts it in one hand and then slaps it down into the waiting palm of the other. You startle at the loud, meaty whap! and suddenly your blood turns to ice. You can feel yourself slipping under alarmingly fast, whatever the incomprehensible shroud was that blanketed your mind every time you ended up in these situations with him, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to do much to shield you from the full brunt of it in this particular instance.
Trying very hard not to shake when he steps behind you, you tip your face down to stare blankly down at the desk. The tension thrumming through your body is thick enough to suffocate and nauseatingly cloying. Just thinking about him hitting you with that was enough to make you sick …
“Oh, and just a word of advice.” He tacks on, standing about a step behind you by the sound of it. “Try to breathe through it as much as you can. That will help more than anything else.”
“… yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
His fingertips brush across your ass then, and you jolt so hard you almost come right up off the floor. Wriothesley just takes a moment to coo at you though, chiding you softly for being so jumpy, but it was a little hard not to be! You felt like you were going to vibrate right out of existence, and the heavy weight of nervous anticipation was not making it any better. You’re such a mess of nerves and sharp adrenaline that you barely even notice the way your skin prickles under his hand, still hot to the touch and tender from your earlier spanking, and you wince slightly as he rubs over your bottom. It seems like a cruel thing to do, getting you sensitized and warmed up for his belt like this.
“I’m going to start.” He finally warns you as his hand retreats, and you immediately brace for the deafening crack and the splintering pain to go with it.
To your flinching surprise, however, the belt just lightly swats across your bottom with a soft little pap! and you absolutely hate the way you still violently lurch, having expected much worse. Your cheeks immediately flood with heat as he laughs softly behind you at the big reaction.
“I told you we’d work our way up. That’s one. Count for me, pretty girl.”
You obediently open your mouth but you only make it so far as drawing a breath to respond when the belt slaps across your ass, a little harder this time. You notice the sting he’d mentioned immediately, as well as the insidious reach it has across the swell of both cheeks, but all it does is make you rock forward on your toes a bit. You’d never admit it out loud to him, but he was right. This wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it would be.
And that was precisely why you didn’t trust it.
“… two, sir.”
“Good girl. Your bottom looks mighty cute like this, by the way. I think I could get used to seeing you bent over my desk.”
You clench your teeth, half in annoyance and half to brace for the next hit. If they kept steadily increasing like that …
Whap!
This one subtly jerks you forward with the impact and you wheeze over the desk, trying and failing to process just how sharp the sting really is. It leaves you dizzy, a bit stunned in the aftermath as prickling fire welts up over the swell of your bottom. It has your toes curling in their shoes, skin crawling with needle pinpricks as you work to steady yourself. Okay, that was marginally worse than his hand but still not quite as bad as the hairbrush.
“Ooh … three, sir …”
“You’re doing very well so far. What do you think of it?”
You weren’t entirely sure you were properly equipped to answer that question at the moment, but after a short beat of consideration you finally say, “I see what you meant. It’s a different kind of pain, but it’s not terrible.”
“It could be.”
You snort. “I bet it could.”
Wriothesley shifts behind you making you instinctively brace for the next hit, but it never comes. Instead, he speaks again after a drawn out pause. “Do you really trust me not to get carried with it, and to know your pain threshold better than you do?”
That seemed like an odd question to ask after all this time, but you decide you can humor it as you readjust your feet with a quick shuffle. “I do, your grace. You push me sometimes but you’ve never actually crossed that line. Until you do, I trust you.”
“That’s very generous of you.” He murmurs, a note of humor in his voice now. “Incidentally, I think you should know that I trust you as well. I suppose that makes us even.”
A dull trickle of surprise washes over you, but before you can fully process what he’d said the next strike comes with a considerably louder crack and it startles an ‘oh!’ out of you. Rocking forward on your toes, seething, you gingerly shift your weight from one side to the other but it does absolutely nothing to dispel the throbbing strip across your backside. It really was insidious how it could catch the meatiest parts of your ass in a single blow, and you carefully try to stretch it out with a dramatic curve of your spine.
“That’s quite a show you're putting on for me right now, pretty girl.” Wriothesley drawls in a low tone that sounds like silk in your pounding ears. “Are you sure you don’t want to take your top off? I’m already seeing quite a lot …”
Whimpering faintly, you shyly squeeze your thighs together and straighten slightly. “Don’t be a pig …”
“My apologies. It’s so easy to forget my manners when you’re presenting such a cute pussy to me like that. I’ll be sure to mind myself.”
“Ooh … will you touch it, your grace?”
“Yes. Gladly. But only after we’re done.” He says. Then, much more softly, “It will be a reward for the both of us.”
You draw a steadying breath and force your constricting lungs to expand with it as you carefully resume the position he’d put you in, or something close to it. “Four, sir.”
“Good girl.”
This time you know the swing is coming because you can hear the displacement in the air, and it seems to catch you in a particularly vulnerable spot, because you dance up on your toes with a frazzled yelp. The sting of unshed tears in your eyes quickly joins the splintering sensation across your decidedly sore bottom, and you sniffle rather sadly at the hurt. You understood now why he’d set the count to six, and you were immensely glad for it.
“F - five, sir …”
Wriothesley’s hand abruptly finds your shuddering back and you jolt before stiffly relaxing into his touch. Gently, reassuringly, he drags that massive palm across you in slow, coaxing circles. “There, you’re almost done. I’ll let you decide when you’re ready for the last stroke.”
You can’t decide if that makes it better or worse, but you take a moment to collect yourself, just taking slow, deep breaths, just like he’d said to. It does help, a little bit, but the searing line across your ass is very hard to ignore. You were undoubtedly scared of what was coming and, yet, his steady presence at your side was a comforting one. You could do this. You knew you could. Not for him, but because of him.
Gingerly easing your body out of its defensive hunch, you carefully move back into position again. “I’m ready, sir.”
Your first sign that this was going to be awful is the fact that Wriothesley keeps his hand braced against your middle back and just shifts to the side. Your second is the sharp sound of it cutting through the air.
Whap!
Pain explodes across your entire body unlike ever before. You lurch with a wounded, faltering animal sound, unable to even scream, it was that bad! Your knees instantly turn knobbly and you practically collapse with a strained, gasping sob, but he’s right there to catch you. So lost in the swimming daze of blind agony, you barely register him holding you around the waist to keep you upright and somewhat steady, but the soft press of his mouth against your shoulder somehow still manages to catch your attention. It pulls you back into the physical world, bit by bit, at a sluggish pace, and the sound of his crooning voice soon penetrates the numbing fog to mist over you.
“— such a good girl, I’m so proud of you for taking that so well. You didn’t even scream, and I thought for sure you would on the last one. Do you have any idea how much strength that took? You’re such a precious thing.”
Groaning dizzily, you slowly start to straighten up under his helpful guidance, and you don’t protest when he gently steers you back towards the chair with a hiccuping mewl. You’re glad for it, in fact. You just wanted to crawl into his lap and cling to him for the rest of the day. Night? You weren’t even sure what time it was. How long had you fallen asleep for?
You feel well and truly delirious as he sits down and gets situated behind you before reaching back up to tug you into his lap, and you viciously seethe the moment your throbbing ass brushes his pants. Making a valiant effort to arch up off him and escape the pressure, you openly sob when he just pulls you right down. You writhe at the pain, twisting in his arms but then — you abruptly realize where his hands are headed.
Choking on a stuttering gasp, you tip your tear stained face down with a confused little whimper to watch his palms drag up the front of your body, further rucking and irreparably wrinkling your jumper in the process. They smooth over the curve of your breasts and then pause to give them a savory squeeze, and you shudder intensely at the sensation. You’d never been touched like this before. Not by anyone, and it surprises you how sensitive your chest is under the weight of his hands. Your nipples immediately spring up even under your clothes, and you fitfully turn your head to rest across his shoulder with a half strangled wail.
“These feel so good in my hands, pretty girl. Is this what you wanted me to do? Hm?”
Screwing your eyes shut against the onslaught of so many sensations all at once — the pain and the pleasure so horribly intermingled that you could hardly tell them apart anymore — you offer a quick, jerky nod. “Mhm!”
Wriothesley breathes out a terse sigh against the side of your head and nuzzles further into you while his hands keep fondling your breasts. “Good. They seem sensitive. There are a lot of fun things we could do with that information, you know. I have a few — toys you might be interested in later. Do you like having your pretty tits played with? You certainly look like you do …”
Whining low in your throat, you shudderingly arch to shove your chest further out, and he takes advantage of that to squish them up and together. A deeply frazzled moan rattles out of you when he jostles them for a brief moment before letting them go so that they bounce back into place. He groans, very softly, as he quickly cups around the swell of them again, just holding them in his palms for a moment while he bends close to kiss you.
You’re sinking alarmingly fast, much too fast to make any sense of it, and you clutch at his shirt in a fitful, twisting death grip. He doesn’t even seem to notice, just hungrily kissing you for a tortuously long stretch before eventually pulling back with a stilted exhale. Meaningfully, he sends his gaze lower and you follow his lead, slowly looking down at yourself just to find your tits straining up even through two shirts and a brassier. You issue a low, wounded sound, watching through the impossibly heavy fall of your lashes as he brings his hands up to delicately pluck at the stiffened buds. That alone is almost too much, both the sensation and the visual, but he really starts to tug on them.
“You like that, do you?” He chuckles at all your sensitive quivering. “I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m more of an ass man myself, but these are nice too. Very nice, indeed. They fit so nicely in my hands, almost like they were made for them. And your nipples … oh, sweet girl, are you going to cum just from having me play with them?”
That didn’t seem to be as much of a preposterous suggestion as you would have otherwise thought when you were currently wrestling with the thrumming tension that spikes through your body. You’d never felt quite so hot or overly sensitive, and you keen at the growing need threatening to swallow you whole.
Evidently catching on, Wriothesley drags one of his hands down across your front, over your belly and straight down to dip between your trembling thighs. You feel him experimentally touch over your slit for a brief moment, familiarizing himself with it, before pressing his fingers into meaty lips to spread them. You rock violently in his hold and instinctively curl your legs out wide even when they weakly twitch in the air, keeping them spread for him. You’re not sure what you were expecting in your punch drunk state of mind, but it shocks a flustered yelp out of you when he slips in to tease over your clit. It has you twitching, twisting and writhing against him for everything you’re worth. The calloused pad on the tip seems to catch at soft flesh even with the excessive slick coating you and he tauntingly nudges at the delicate little pleasure button, just drawing it back and forth, up and down for a moment, before starting to press down more firmly. You promptly go cross eyed, lurching in his lap with a gutted moan.
The direct contact felt so good … so good you could hardly even stand it, and it brings fresh tears to your eyes. You liked rubbing yourself on his thighs. Thought you’d liked that the most and that you couldn’t like anything else better — but this was overwhelming your already cotton stuffed head alarmingly quick, and the way he continues to pluck at one of your nipples did not seem to be helping you in the slightest. You were going to vibrate right off him if he kept that up!
“Y - your grace! Ooohhnnggh!”
“Do you enjoy that, little miss? Hm?” He nuzzles against the side of your head, pressing idle kisses to your temple again.
“Ahhnn … yes! I do, your grace! I - I feel like I’m gonna’ — oohh!”
With a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate against your back, Wriothesley reaches across to the other breast to give it a savory, pinching knead. Fitful and needy, you impulsively reach down with trembling hands to grab the hem of your jumper so you can yank it up to bunch under your chin. He obliges you by grabbing at your tit again, through just the thin layer of your blouse now, and you somehow manage to shake even harder when he digs his fingers in to tug at the brassier underneath. It’s hard to do indirectly like this and he jostles you slightly with the effort, but you still feel the exact moment your stiff teat slips out of the top of the cup and you just shake even harder.
“I bet you do. Such a sensitive little girl you are …” Pulling in a carefully tempered breath, he abandons that tit much to your blubbering disappointment and reaches over to do the same to the other. Pinching through fabric to grab at the lacy material underneath and nudge it down enough to leave both nipples cutting up directly into the fabric of your shirt. You writhe on top of him with a back bowing shudder and blindly grab at him, his arms, his shirt, the now rumpled collar of his button up, whining a low plea. “Hush. I’ve got you. Bring your hands up for me and wrap them around my neck. Think you can do that for me?”
Offering a stilted nod, you do as he’d asked without question or even much thought to the matter. Later you might wonder why you’re so obedient and pliable with him like this, but in the heat of the moment you find nothing but pleasure, and deep satisfaction at the rumbling noise of approval he gives you when your arms stretch up to curl over his shoulders in a loose hold. The position proves a bit awkward when you can’t get a very good grip on him, but the reason for it quickly makes itself known. Your tits lift under your shirt with the upward motion to jut further out, and his blocky hand quickly descends upon one, pinching the tightly coiled teat to leave you moaning in equal parts distress and delight.
“Ooh, isn’t that a lovely sound? You really are going to be the death of me … let me show you something nice now. You’ll like it, I promise.”
The blocky fingers on your clit slowly retreat and you hiss at the loss only to choke on it a heartbeat later when he firmly presses them over your slit. He gives them a sedate rub and your pelvis involuntarily jumps, pressing up into them with a juddering twitch, eager for more. Desperate for it.
“There, now move with me, pretty girl. Just like you do when you’re grinding this sweet pussy on my leg … that’s it, move your hips. Back and forth. Just follow the motion of my hand — see, you’ve got it. Keep going and don’t stop until you’re shaking for me.”
You suck in a thick, heavy gasp as you bring your swimming attention back down to look at the way you’re spread open on top of him. The wide stretch of your legs is shameful and a little embarrassing even now, but your cunt looks so small and dainty rubbing against his big hand while your thighs quack around it and you can’t quite bring yourself to care about it right now. Wheezing, you rock your pelvis up to follow the friction of his rough fingers before swiveling back and — you outright choke when your sore ass grinds down on him in the process. The faintly raised welts seem to crawl and sting with renewed fervor at the brush of his pants, the hard press of his cock digging up into you in search of the hot, wet warmth between your legs. Your pussy squeezes wildly at the sharp pain, drools yet more sticky slick to coat you in an obscene amount of liquid arousal, and you quickly do it again. Up against the firm pressure of his hand and then back again to rub your sore bottom on him.
It doesn’t take long for you to start quaking in earnest like this and you cling to him desperately as the tension in your body rapidly swells, threatening to bowl you right over if you weren’t careful. But as always Wriothesley’s hold on you is absolute, and you’re free to shake and twist as wildly as you want without having to worry about falling. The hand on your chest alternates between your breasts, squeezing, pinching, tugging at your nipples, each in turn, to leave them feeling raw and sensitized through your shirt while the other keeps guiding your pelvis through the stuttering motion. Maintaining it becomes more difficult with the steady locking of your muscles as warning tremors wrack through you, but he remains an ever steady presence around you and it’s so easy to get lost and swept up in his pace.
Your cunt tilts up against his hand and then your ass nudges back to make dull throbs of pain erupt across your bottom.
Up against his hand with a sticky glide that does absolutely nothing to stop his rough skin from dragging against petal soft folds, then back to feel the weight of him digging into sore flesh that burns at the friction against his slacks.
Up against his hand, back against his cock.
His hand, his cock.
Wriothesley’s hand and Wriothesley’s cock.
The coil snaps. Just like that.
Throwing your head back against his shoulder, you wail through your soul shattering release as quietly as you can manage. You seethe, you hiss, you groan, low and faltering. You squeal and you wheeze, bucking uncontrollably with a frantic desperation that he takes in stride. His hold on you doesn’t falter, and he neither grunts or flinches even when you spasm on top of him without heed. He’s like a solid wall underneath you, and he pets you through it all until you finally, at last, start to come down from it some moments later one jagged piece of you at a time.
Going boneless with a haggard noise of deep sated pleasure, you just lay there for a long while and let him caress over you to leave pleasantly warm tingles in the wake of his hands. It’s comfortable like that, there with him. Sitting in the stillness of his office in the buzzing afterglow of release, simply listening to each other's heartbeats for a long time. He was right to say this was something he could get used to, because you could too.
And strangely enough that thought doesn’t frighten you half as much as it probably would have at one time.
“You’re a very good girl for me, you know that?” Wriothesley says at last, finally interrupting the quiet.
Snuggling deeper into his body with a content little sigh, you tip your head back to look up at him from just a scant few millimeters away. “You’re very good to me as well, you’re grace. T - … thank you for that.”
A slow smile tugs at his mouth to accompany the almost wry quirk of his brow. “Oh, am I now? Well, you’re very welcome, of course, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t half expect a different sentiment.”
You frown at that, unable to stop it. “You are easily the most frustrating, blockheaded man I have ever met, and I won’t deny that, but you — you’re kind to me, aren’t you? In your own strange way.”
“I try to be.” He relents, his gaze drifting lower to fix upon your mouth. You can tell he’s thinking about kissing you again by the way his eyelids droop to attractive halfmast, but you reach up to cup the strong ridge of his jaw before he can follow through on it.
“Can I … be kind to you as well, sir?” You give your butt a pointed little wiggle down onto the hard length straining under you, and his brows draw together as if in great discomfort.
“As much as I would like that,” He intones rather thinly. “And for as much as I am tempted, I would rather teach you about that somewhere a bit more appropriate than in my office. At your home. In the comfort of your own bed, if you would permit it, sounds ideal to me.”
You hesitate to respond just a moment too long, still a little overwhelmed at the thought of sharing your bed with him despite the eager thrum you feel at the suggestion, and he takes the chance to gather you against him in a tight squeeze.
“There isn’t any rush, sweet girl. Whenever you’re ready, you will have me. I just want to ensure you receive the care and attention you deserve first and foremost, and I also want you to feel safe. Your bedroom will represent that final boundary and when you’re prepared to invite me into your life like that, that is when I will take you. That sounds fair enough, doesn’t it?”
You want to tell him you are ready, that you want him now, you’re sure of it. Your body and mind alike both seem to crave the intimacy of skin on skin contact with him, while your heart …
Oh, you simply couldn’t think about that right now.
“Yes, your grace.” You murmur instead of any number of other things you could have said to him, wanted to say to him. Needed to say. “That sounds fair.”
“Good.” Wriothesley gives you a reassuring pinch to make you squirm slightly in his arms. “Then I think with that settled it’s about time you and I considered making things somewhat official. Do you think you can stand to be seen with me in public in a non professional capacity for an hour or two?”
Going still against him, you frantically try to parse what he’s asking, what he’s getting at. Make it official? “What do you mean, my lord? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I’d like to take you out to dinner, little miss. On a date.”
Your face instantly lights up like a firework. A date? With the Duke of Meropide himself?
Oh, but you suddenly felt terribly faint.
“I … I think I’d like that, your grace. Thank you.”
“Wonderful. Then that is what we will do.”
⭐
Crossposted: here
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📖 Mein Tutor 📖
❤︎ Darawing Credits: @shkretart ❤︎
Synopsis: Reader makes a New Year’s resolution to be more productive, finding herself fascinated with language, she decides to hire an in person tutor to give her the run down on Deutsch. However, turns out that learning German isn’t the only thing on readers mind…or her tutor, König’s 🤭
TW: 18+, MDNI, heavy smut, fluff fluff fluff, MDom, age gap relationship (26/41), dirty talk, female pronouns used, fingering, p in v, eye contact during seggs, size kink, female reader, vanilla seggs
AN: This is a ✨one shot✨ all the goods are here and there aren’t any additional parts. I would say this is a “medium” burn lol, there’s quite a bit of background and dialogue before we get into ITTTT. I’m learning German at the moment and my tutor is really cute, so it made me think hmm…😂 Also, I do tend to write König as a softer character, so this won't be for you if you don't like fluff, but I'm going to try my hand at a more domineering version of him soon. I hope you guys like it!
Word Count: 5,412
❤︎Like & Reblogs Are Greatly Appreciated!❤︎
Enjoy! 💋
I’ve never really been one for New Year’s resolutions, but considering how chaotic my life was last year, I figured setting a goal or two for myself would probably do me some good. I’d been searching for new and productive ways to spend my free time for a while now, and discovered that I really enjoy learning new languages. Language has always been incredibly fascinating, but I never realized just how fascinating it could truly be until now. He’s retired, ex military, and practically everything about him is unknown, down to his name as he only goes by his former callsign which is König. He’s shrouded in mystery with just the right amount of danger — everything from the way he caries himself to the black ski mask he wears during our lessons is telling of his obscure and likely troublesome past. But behind this large secretive wall appears to be an overall happy man, one who chooses to spend his free time teaching people such as myself how to speak in his native tongue — German. He’s an incredible teacher, he’s taught me more than I ever thought was possible in two months. He makes our lessons enjoyable and fun, I’m almost always ready for our next lesson the minute one ends. I practically count down the days of each week, patiently awaiting 7pm on Friday nights when he graces my front door, barely able to walk through the door frame without bumping his head due to his unbelievably tall and brawny stature. I think about him more than I’d like to admit. The sweet praises that escape his lips at the end of each lesson, how the wrinkles around his stunning blue eyes crinkle up when he listens to me say a new word he’s taught me — I assume he’s smiling considering I can’t see anything other than his eyes. “Very good, schatz.” He says as he gives me a playful round of applause. There’s something about him that draws me in. I don’t really know what he looks like, but from what I can see, he’s perfect. Probably the tallest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, a muscular physique that never goes unnoticed even in loose fitting clothing, it’s damn near impossible for my mind not to wander off. I know he’s much older than me, and for all I know he could have an entire family with a wife and children. Considering how sweet he is, it wouldn’t be surprising at all. I’m not too sure if German is considered a language of love by many, or anyone at all, but he has a way of making it sound so sexy. I’m damn near hypnotized by the rough and rugged tone that coats each word he speaks. Even in English, his accent is absolutely endearing, it takes everything in me to keep my composure as my core heats and arousal slowly begins to glaze the soft pink cotton of my panties.
Our lesson is almost over for the evening, but I’m feeling a little bold…another thing I promised myself this year is that I won’t allow fear to control my life. I doubt I ever cross his mind. He probably doesn’t look at me or think of me in all the many ways I do with him given our age difference, but I’m old enough to know what I want. Tonight’s the night I start making it clear that I’m interested, and if it’s not reciprocated, at least I tried. He began packing away his notebook and heading towards the foyer when my eye caught a glimpse of a vintage bottle of red wine I’d bought earlier in the week. “Um,” I began hesitantly, my mind sorting through ways in which I could make him stay a little longer. I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the bottle of wine, along with two glasses from the cupboard above. “Any plans for this evening? I was thinking…maybe you’d like to have a glass of wine with me?” I blushed. The look in his eyes was reminiscent of a deer in headlights. Figures he’d be caught off guard, considering we’d never spent time together outside of our lessons. “Well, I don’t have any plans at all,” he laughed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, the wrinkles around his dazzling blue eyes crinkling up. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else you’d rather share that with? Looks like an expensive bottle, don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate you sharing this with the strange masked Austrian man who comes by to teach you German once a week.”
“Well, who said I had a boyfriend?” I giggled, my cheeks ablaze from slight embarrassment at his assumption. “I just assumed that a beautiful young woman such as yourself…” He began as we held each other’s gaze. “So is that a yes or no?” I smirked.
“Alright, wine it is.” He said hesitantly as he removed his boots. “I’ll invoice you for the extra time later.” He teased. We both took a seat on my sofa “Prost!” I smiled after I poured us both a glass, and raised my glass with him. “Sehr gut, Schatz!” He praised before raising the edge of his mask up to his nose and taking a sip. This is more of him than I’ve ever been able to see. His jaw line is strong and chiseled, peppered with an even layer of stubble. “Alright, you have to tell me,” I began. “Why do you wear the mask?”
He paused for a moment, thinking of an answer to a question he probably gets quite frequently. “There are quite a few reasons…” he sighed. “The military has and always will be a large part of my life, I suppose there’s some comfort in it for me. Maybe I just feel a little exposed without it because I’ve worn one almost every day of my life since I was a teenager.” He laughed. “Also, there’s the matter of safety…”
“Why would you need your mask for safety?”
He sighed, “It’s complicated, but there are situations you can sometimes get yourself into that cause you to make enemies out of people you wouldn’t really want to make enemies with.” He said. It hadn’t really occurred to me until just now that he’s more than likely had a hand in ending someone else’s life. It sounds silly, because he was in the military so I should have just assumed, but aside from the mask and his large, intimidating body, it’s kinda hard to picture him as some ruthless assassin. All of our interactions thus far have been so pleasant, and he’s never been anything other than a gentleman, there’s a part of me that wonders… “Are you okay?” I asked, a pang of immediate regret stirring within me as soon as the words left my lips. I guess I just can’t imagine having to do the things he probably had to do. I don’t think I’d be okay, I don’t know how I could cope with taking another life, or watching the life of someone else get taken. He cocked his head to the side, eyes slightly squinted as he let out a brief chuckle. “You know,” he began. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before…” he trailed off. “I would say…I wasn’t always okay, it was very hard in the beginning, but over time I’ve learned to be okay.” He beamed, a softness gleaming in his eyes, almost as if he was glad I asked. “I’m happy to hear that” I smiled.
I’d like to think I was able to gain his trust that night, something I know is probably a challenging task for many others. Since then, we’ve made it somewhat of a tradition to share a bottle of wine after each of our lessons. Sometimes he even cooks dinner and chefs up a few of his favourite Austrian dishes. Nothing makes me melt more than seeing how overjoyed he is that I’ve enjoyed something he made. Another two months have gone by, and it’s safe to say that he and I have been growing…closer, but be has yet to make an actual move. The ball is now in his court, so let’s see what he does with it. It's Saturday and I'm bored as hell. We spoke earlier and since we both aren’t doing anything, we decided maybe it would be a good idea to do something together, so I invited him over. This would be the first time we’d be spending time together where a lesson hasn’t taken place beforehand, so as excited as I am, I’m also feeling quite nervous. I made a small plater of appetizers for us to snack on while we do whatever it is we’re gonna be doing. Ultimately there’s no set plan, so I’m thinking we’ll probably end up watching a movie or two. My doorbell rang a few minutes later, and there he was holding a 6 pack of German beer and an extra large pizza. “You told me you enjoy pizza last time, so I figured I’d bring some for us to share.” He smiled.
“Great choice.” I giggled as I moved aside so he could come in. “I did half meat lovers, and half extra cheese with pineapples.” He said as he opened the box to display the pizza, the look in his eyes hinting at how proud he was for remembering the toppings I like. “Very simple order, but it’s something very few can seem to get right,” I laughed as he placed the pizza on the counter top. “Thank you, König.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his torso. He’s huge so a proper hug just doesn’t work, but no hug in this world compares to a König hug. Those big muscular arms wrapped around me, engulfing me into his strong chest. He always smell amazing, like fragrant musky oud and aftershave. “Natürlich, Schatz.“ he whispers as his hand roams over the back of my head, fingers gently playing in my hair. I could stay in his arms forever, I’ve genuinely never felt safer than I do right here. We haven’t really had a moment quite as intimate as this one. We’ve hugged many times before, but not like this. We pulled away and smiled at each other. I cleared my throat before heading over to my kitchen to grab plates and napkins. "So how has your day been so far?" He asked a he took a took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Honestly, it's been pretty boring thus far, I'm counting on you to entertain me" I teased.
"And how do you expect me to do that?" He smirked.
"That's your job to figure out, not mine." I winked.
"Alright, what's you opinion on horror movies?"
"Love 'em!"
"Paranormal or slasher?"
"Hmm, haven't watched a slasher in a while..." I said as I took a seat on the stool beside him, grabbing a slice of my half of the pizza.
"Okay, I'm gonna count down, we're both gonna say a slasher on three and then go from there."
"Alright."
"Eins, Zwei, Drei..."
"Saw marathon." We both said before proceeding to burst into laugher. "Well that was easy," He laughed. "Never would've pegged you for a Saw type of woman though."
"Hey...ya girl's got good taste alright?" I laughed as I took a bite of my slice. We moved everything to the couch and setup Netflix. Luckily for us, Netflix happens to have all of the saw movies available for streaming. I took a seat on the couch after figuring everything out with the TV. "Why are you so far away?" He asked. I sat frozen for a moment, not sure what to do, the blood rushing to my cheeks as I face him. One of his arms rested gently behind the couch, signalling for me to come closer. I smiled bashfully before sliding closer to him, his large robust arm swinging around me and nuzzling me into his side. I gently placed my hand on his chest, before looking up at him. He looked down at me, the wrinkles around his eyes doing that thing I love so much to give away that he's smiling. He gently rubbed my arm, lifting his mask up to his nose, as he placed his finger underneath my chin. He leaned in close, gently rubbing his nose against mine. "May I kiss you, Schatz?" He whispered.
"Ja." I breathed.
"Sehr gut..." He smiled, taking note of my Deutsch response, as he closed the gap between our lips, enrapturing me in a kiss so deep my body turned to jello. His tongue entered my mouth, taking the kiss to new heights. It was dripping with passion, riddled with fervour and yearning. It was hot. Sensual and inviting, I was practically speechless when he pulled away, a string of spit connecting our swollen lips from the brief make out session a few seconds prior. He pulled me back into his chest, gently placing a kiss on the top of my head. Seems like he’s doing something with that ball after all.
By the time we’d finished watching the movies, it was nearly 2am. We were both slowly beginning to doze off before König took notice of the time. “Schiße,” he groaned as he rubbed his eyes. “When did it get so late?”
“No idea.” I yawned as I gently rose from his chest. Ugh he’s so comfy, I really didn’t want to get up, but I didn’t want to push things too far along by suggesting that he spend the night, no matter how badly I wanted to, and fuck did I want to. That one kiss alone was more than enough to have me practically dripping through my panties and down my thighs. He’s such a phenomenal kisser. For a good hour throughout the first movie, I pretty much had to fight myself to keep my mind off of imagining those lips of his covering my entire body in wet gentle kisses. Feeling them enclosed around my nipples, sucking and nipping at them with his teeth while his large calloused hands roam about my body. Picturing him between my legs, his sweet, rough tongue lapping over my swollen nub and dipping between my folds, blue eyes piercing my gaze as he watches me writhe in pleasure beneath him. I would let him have me all over the house, on every piece of furniture, every corner and crevice, I want to be able to look anywhere in here and remember how hard he fucked me…but I don’t want to come off too eager. We got up from the couch and headed towards the front foyer. “I had a great time tonight.” I blushed. “I’d love to maybe do it again sometime.”
“I agree,” he said. “But maybe, only if you’d like to, I could take you out for dinner somewhere nice?”
“Yes,” I said a little two quickly. “I would love to.”
“What about after our next lesson this week?”
“That works for me.”
“Perfect.” He said as he finished putting on his shoes. “I’ll see you then, Schatz. Guten Nacht” he said, gently pulling me in for a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “Let me know when you make it in.” I said.
“Roger.” He smiled, playfully saluting me as he headed out the front door.
Sundays are what I like to call Self Care Days. I’ll normally do a full deep clean of the entire house, engage in some intensive skincare, play my favourite music, drink my favourite wine and eat my favourite foods. It wasn’t until I was finished washing off my clay face mask that I realized I was missing the wine and food. I quickly slipped into a pair of black leggings and a white hoodie, then grabbed my car keys and headed out to the grocery store a few minutes away to grab a bottle of Chardonnay and a few ingredients I’m missing to make lasagna. The supermarket is relatively empty today, which is quite surprising considering it’s a Sunday, but I have zero complaints. I definitely prefer it this way, there’s less anxiety surrounding finding the things you need as you can simply take your time. After grabbing my favourite jar of tomato sauce, ricotta cheese and big bottle of Chardonnay, I began walking off towards to the cash register. As I mindlessly drifted through the aisle towards the cashier, I caught a glimpse of someone familiar. My eyes trailed over the produce section of the grocery store and I saw him — König…but he wasn’t alone. Beside him, a beautiful statuesque blonde, gently rubbing his arm as a little boy around maybe around 3 or 4 years old sat nestled between his arm and chest. My heart practically sank and fell right out of my body and I froze dead in my tracks. No, nothing is set in stone between he and I, but what the hell is going on? Why spend any time at all with me outside of our lessons? Why kiss me the way he did or ask me out to dinner? It’s not like we sit and talk about German for hours over multiple glasses of wine, watch movies on opposite ends of my couch in complete silence, or conjugate verbs while he cooks me Käsespätzle. I’m no fool, I see the way he looks at me…but if he’s married, I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Once I’d gotten over the initial shock of what I’d seen, I was enraged. I decided the next course of action was going to be absolute pettiness. I began heading over in his direction, a gigantic phoney grin plastered across my face as I approach him and his family. “Oh wow, König!” I exclaimed. “Had no idea you and your family also shopped here too.” I said through nearly gritted teeth. “Yes, I’m surprised I haven’t run into you here before.” He smiled, seemingly oblivious to being caught. “I’m one of König’s students, nice to meet you.” I smiled as I turned to the blonde.
“Karina, likewise.” She smiled.
“She’s my Friday evening student, she’s progressing quite well!” He laughed.
“Ahhh…I’ve heard quite a bit about you actually.” She smirked.
“I’m sure you have…well I just wanted to come over and say hello. Take care” I said before I walked over to self checkout. As angry as I am, more than anything else, I feel foolish. Of course he has an entire family, and of course she’s beautiful. Good thing I grabbed the big bottle of wine today. The first thing I did when I got home, aside from pour myself a glass of wine, was cancel the rest of my lessons with König before blocking his number all together. I feel so disgusting and betrayed. Why wouldn’t he tell me about her? Was he hoping I’d be interested in being some sort of mistress? Considering this is something that was initiated by me on the basis of “I’m gonna get what I want this year”, this is a little embarrassing.
The thunderstorm brewing outside was the perfect addition to this mess of an evening. About 3 glasses of Chardonnay and 3 slices of pizza later, I still can’t get over seeing him with them. I just feel so stupid. I genuinely thought this could have been the beginning of something…special. As mad as I am, I cannot get over how amazing he looked with that baby in his arms. Considering how patient he is with me during our lessons, I just know he’s probably the most amazing father, but I have to just try to move on I guess. I got up to pour myself another glass of wine when my doorbell rang. Very strange seeing as it’s 10pm and I’m not expecting a visit from anyone other than a brutal hangover, but I’m not expecting that till tomorrow morning. I opened my phone to check my Ring camera before going towards the door. It’s him. What the hell is he doing here? Was today not enough? I walked over to the door, taking a very deep breath before proceeding to open. He’s soaking wet from head to toe. His white, crew next t-shirt sticking to his body, revealing a clearly defined chest and sculpted abs. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“You cancelled your lessons…and then I tried calling you and never got through. I thought maybe something happened to you.” He said.
“Really? König, please, spare me the pity party.”
“What? What are you talking about? What pity party?”
“Wasn’t it enough for me to have to see you with her? And then you act as if it’s not weird as hell for me to be interacting with your wife.” I spat. He stared at me for a moment before doing something I never thought he would do. He pulled his mask up and over his head. I stared at him, dumbfounded. I drank him in, assessing all of his features — he’s beautiful. He has a buzz cut, which is different than what I’d always pictured, and a scar the slits through his eyebrow that looks…pretty damn good if I’m being honest. His expression grew soft, mildly amused as he watched me stare at his maskless face. “Schatz,” he said. “That is my sister, Karina, and her 4 year old son Markus.” He laughed.
“Fuck…” I cursed under my breath.
“Can I come in please?” He asked. I nodded as I moved aside to let him through the front door. I really don’t know what’s worse, me assuming that the similarly large blonde hair blue eyed Austrian woman standing beside him was his wife, or the outburst I just had. I would crawl under a rock and live there for the rest of my life if I could, because I genuinely cannot handle the embarrassment. I walked over to the linen closet to grab him a towel to dry off. “Thank you,” he said as he put the towel to his face. “Now, what’s all of this about me having a wife?” He asked, smirking knowingly as he clearly already knows the answer. I’m not at all ready to have this conversation, but here goes. “I guess when I saw all three of you, I just assumed that was your wife and child.” I sighed. Looking back, especially now that I’ve seen his face, I definitely see the resemblance between him and Karina. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together after lessons…that kiss last night…I thought there was something between us.” I blushed.
He stepped closer to me. “Of course there is, I asked you out for a reason.” He laughed in mild disbelief. “But I do have a hard time understanding why you would be interested in me…You are so beautiful, too beautiful, but I’m so much older than you and all the things I’ve done —“
“König, I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is how I feel when I’m with you.”
He smiled as he raised his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek in his palm. My heart began to race at the sensation of his touch. “Why do you think she said she’s heard a lot about you?” He laughed. “I help her out with my nephew while her husband is deployed. Admittedly, you are all I can ever seem to think or talk about these days. I am happiest when I’m with you.” I never thought I’d hear him say these things, but God does it feel so good to hear. He leaned down and I leaned upward to close the gap between our lips. I never understood what people meant before when they said they felt a spark when they kissed someone, that is until he first kissed me. I never want it to end, but I also want more and I can tell he does too. He picks me up, effortlessly walking us both over to the kitchen before placing me on the countertop, his kiss growing hungrier and hungrier by the second. My hands sauntered about his torso through his damp shirt. He pulls away briefly to take it off before returning to my lips. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in closer between my thighs. A small moan escapes my lips as I feel his hardened length push up against my pussy through his grey sweatpants. Fuck, looks like he’s big all around. My pussy weeps at the thought of him splitting me in half with his big stiff rod. His hands slip beneath my oversized shirt, softly massaging and caressing my tits as we continue to kiss, his hips slowly grinding against my sopping wet heat through my panties. Christ. I could cum right here. The motion of his hips alone is enough to send me spiralling out into a fit of intense pleasure. I can’t wait to feel him fill me up, and see the look on his face as he slips into the slick mess he’s created. He begins to roll and pinch my nipples between his fingers as his lips move towards my jawline, slow soft kisses trailing down my neck as I whimper and moan, my sensitive nipples growing harder beneath his touch. I pull my shirt up over my head, allowing his lips access to my exposed chest. His lips continue to trail downward towards my breasts, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, while his hand continues to massage the other. “Oh, König…” I moan quietly as my head falls back, goosebumps slowly decorating my entire body as he takes his time catering to my nipples. “Your body is incredible,” he breathed as he came back up to meet my lips. “I love the way it reacts to me…” he said lowly, his hand trailing along my side until it reaches the hem of my panties. “Oh…I wanna taste you.” he whispered in my ear. I placed both feet on the countertop and leaned back onto my elbows, slowly sliding my panties off and down my legs, flicking them off to the side in one swift little kick. He fell to his knees, spreading my legs apart to admire my sticky wet folds. “Schiße, Schatz…” he moaned as he looked up at me, placing gentle kisses along my inner thighs. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He smirked as he planted slow purposeful kisses against my heat. He nuzzled his face between my folds, his tongue lapping gently at the arousal pouring from my tight cunt. “Ohhh…” I moaned out, my hand resting on his head as he picked up the pace, my clit throbbing uncontrollably as his tongue ferociously flicks against it. “Fuck, König…God, you’re gonna make me cum.” I whimpered, legs beginning to shake as his hands held on tight to my thighs, fingers digging into my plush flesh as I squirmed beneath his lips and tongue. He began sucking my clit while his tongue continued to flick against my swollen nub, my orgasm building as I watched him indulge in me, enjoying and savouring every ounce of my sweet juices. He came up for air, licking his lips as he took in every inch of my naked body. “I could eat your pussy all day, Schatz. Fuck, you taste even better than you look.” He praised.
“Now I want you to cum for me.” He said, slowly sliding two of his fingers inside me, his thumb rubbing swift circles against my clit. My back arches up off the counter as the room fills with the loud, obscene noises of me growing closer to succumbing to my orgasm.
He leans over me, fingers curling upward and into that delightful spongy spot inside me. He kisses me slowly as I cum all over his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. “Sehr Gut.” He smirks as he pulls away, my eyes immediately drawn to the large bulge in his sweatpants. He pulls them, along with his boxers, down, revealing his long, hard, uncut cock. Fuck…he might actually split me in two. He’s gotta be at least 9-10 inches with a fair amount of girth, and a thick vein that embellishes the side of his length. I sat up as he placed his hands on my hips. “Are you sure about this, Schatz? I don’t wanna hurt you…you’re so tight.” He said.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I said, gently taking his hardness in my hand, slowly stroking him as I held his gaze. “I want you, König.” I breathed as I positioned his thick leaky tip at my entrance. “I’ll be gentle.” He breathed against my lips before kissing me , slowly pushing forward. I leaned back onto my hands to allow him more room to go deeper, his hands resting on the counter on either side of me. “König,” I gasped as he went deeper, slowly thrusting in more of himself little by little. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, expression awash with concern as he takes a brief pause. “No. I want more,” I moaned. “I want it all.”
He smiled, “Gutes Mädchen.” He said, holding my gaze as he continued to push into me, my eyes widening at the delicious feel of his fullness. “Fuck.” I moaned.
“Mmm, look at you…” he smirked. “Schiße, you take me so fucking well.” He breathed, watching his fat cock slip in and out of me, letting out a guttural moan as he bottoms out. “Mein Got, you’re so fucking tight.” He said as his thrusts began to pick up pace. “So…big…” I moaned as he thrusted harder, eyes glued to mine, basking in my aroused expression as he continued to fuck me. “Harder.” I panted.
“You sure you can handle it, Schatz?” He asked.
“Yes. Please” I begged. He stood up, gently pulling me towards the edge of the countertop, placing my legs in the air, and wrapping one of his arms around both of my thighs before slamming into me repeatedly. “Oh my God.” I cried out, his thick tip kissing the sweet gummy edge of my cervix over and over. “This is what you wanted, ja?” He taunted.
“Y-yes.” I moaned, barely able to speak.
“Aw, what’s the matter, Schatz? Thought you could handle this?” He smirked, watching as my pussy gushes around this cock, dripping down it’s base. His free hand moved towards my clit, his thumb continuing with those hypnotizing circles as he mercilessly pounds my cunt, his face and chest glistening with sweat. I can feel myself about to come undone. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered. I’ve never been fucked this hard before, or taken anything nearly as big as him. I am completely overwhelmed with pleasure in the best way, and the look and his face let’s me know the feeling is mutual. I damn near explode all over his cock, coating majority of his length in my creaminess. He pulled out, I could tell his orgasm was about to follow mine. I climbed off of the counter top and got on my knees, licking my slick off of his shaft before wrapping my lips around the head of his cock. He grabbed hold of my hair and I began sliding my lips up and down his shaft. “Fuck…” he whimpered. “I’m gonna cum.” He moaned. I picked up the pace, sucking him vigorously. I continued until he couldn’t hold back anymore, shooting ropes of his hot, sticky cum down my throat. I held his gaze as I swallowed. “Fuck….” He exhaled, trying to catch his breath as I rose to my feet. He pulled me into him, kissing me hard as we both came down from our high. “That was incredible.” He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It was.” I blushed. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
He laughed. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Schatz, especially not after that.”
“Would you like to spend the night?” I asked sheepishly.
“I would love to.” He smiled as he gave me a kiss on the cheek, before scooping me up into his arms bridal style. “Let’s go take a shower, Ja?”
“Lead the way!” I laughed as he headed towards the stairs.
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mw3#cod x reader#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig smut#konig x reader#konig cod#cod mwii#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig fanfiction#konig#könig#könig x reader#könig mw2#könig smut#könig x you#mdni#18+ only#18+ content#18+ mdni#konig modern warfare#konig x you#könig x y/n#könig modern warfare#18+ minors dni#18+ post#cod
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❝ ANGEL
♡ gn!reader x gojo satoru
cw: hurt/ comfort, established relationship
synopsis: gojo is so unserious, but he loves you more than you’ll ever know
wc: 1400+
notes from mei!
hello guys it’s been so long! i’ve rewatched jjk AND WATCHED JJK 0 FINALLY and felt very inspired to write lol (i fully believe gojo is a ginormous piece of shit)
i’m very rusty but i hope u enjoy!
you’ve always known satoru was far different from what people portrayed. he’s so conceited that it’s painful, but you know it’s just because he has insecurities of his own that he feels the need to hide.
he’s not as much of a ladies man as people say—of course, he can have anyone he wants, but he's only ever wanted to be yours.
i’m your perfect match, satoru says, no one can compare!
he’s scared of never-ending cycles and repeated mistakes—of things he should be able to control but somehow can’t—frankly, satoru is the epitome of bullshit.
it’s only now you’ve realized that satoru is the most flawed human you’ll probably ever meet—he’s a wuss who never stops complaining, his mouth going on and on like a never-ending siren. his favourite hobby is to get on people’s nerves then treat himself to that expensive bakery downtown.
satoru is so excellent that his flaws are dimmed by the blinding lights of his perfections.
he can get away with just about anything work wise—but with you and your relationship, there’s a line he constantly loves to jump over, even when he knows you'll never let it slide.
“satoru come on,” you say, hand reaching for his, but as you draw closer you feel a slight resistance, unable to touch him. you draw your hand back, taken aback from his behaviour.
you sigh, quiet and drawn out. gojo feels a chill run through his body as immediate regret pumps through his veins.
"baby—"
"save it, satoru."
he bites his tongue, watching as your eyes glaze over. you turn away from him, crossing your arms as if you were giving yourself a much needed hug. it's silent in his... very large and luxurious penthouse living room and you're once again reminded of the social gap between you and satoru.
for a moment, you can hear the voices of everyone mocking your relationship—criticizing you, laughing at you for even thinking special grade sorcerer gojo satoru could have a soft spot for someone like you.
and you feel played. not by him, but by yourself for believing someone born from money and blessed with strength, could love someone like you—someone who came from nothing and had to work their way up and up, kissing ass and developing thick skin.
you don't think gojo will ever understand how privileged he is.
you also don't think he'll understand how bad he is for you.
"where do you think you're going?" he calls. you think carefully, sliding on your shoes as you undo the lock on his door.
"home."
it's been two days and as your tidying up your apartment, you hear a knock at your door.
you pause, already knowing exactly who it is.
a minute—maybe five passes as you don't hear another knock. you're unnerved because you still see the shadow of him through the very bottom of your door, stubborn as he always is.
you try not to breathe too loud or move too fast, but satoru's always a step ahead and as you're opening your window to escape through the emergency stairs, he's already there.
"that's cold, my love." he says, but it's missing his usual satoru-flare and you know he's not in usual mood.
you don't think you can stomach him being in front of you.
he's wearing his sunglasses, hair down with his hand making sure your window stays open. his other is stuffed in his pocket, casual and uncaring like he always is.
"that's rich coming from you."
satoru loves you.
and it's all he can think about as he looks at you.
he knows you're more hurt than angry, and it's taken him great restraint to not harass you—lovingly—over these past two days. and when he sees you, he realizes he definitely should’ve harassed you instead.
his eyes trace your frown, your posture that shuts him out. he wonders if he'll be able to fix his big mistake.
with you in front of him, gojo doesn't feel like he's the strongest anymore. all the words he prepared to serenade you back into his arms sounded like gibberish and no longer felt right.
"why are you here, satoru?" he doesn't miss the way your voice breaks, "why do you always do this to me?"
tears begin to clump in his your lashes, throat tightening as you stare at him in disbelief. the air is so tense. you feel like you've been stripped bare as a tear rolls down your cheek.
"you make me feel so loved," your voice shakes, "you lift me up so high and make me feel so proud to be me."
satoru wants to tell you that loving you feels so natural.
"but you're so mean," you cry. the tears are falling freely now and you're choking on your words. "you do all these—all these things, making me feel special and—and seen, only for you to neglect me and twist my words a week later, because you can't handle being treated the way you treat me!"
he wants to tell you that seeing you like this is eating him alive.
"you're so ignorant—are you kidding me? thinking i'm overreacting for getting mad th—that you cancelled on like, the third rescheduled date to take on a low-level mission? and when i confronted you about it, forgave you for it, you turn on your infinity when all i wanted to do was hug you?"
your arms fall to your side, sick of his face and the way he’s just standing there silent. "it wasn't even about the date. i feel like you're bored of me and everyone who said we wouldn't last—"
"don't finish that sentence." he interrupts, no longer able to bite his tongue. his lanky figure climbs through your window and you feel even more vulnerable now that he's in your space.
"i'll never get bored of you, you keep me on my toes too much." he lays his cards on the table, knowing this is the last chance he has to prove he loves you more than anything on this earth. "i know how harsh you are to yourself, so i celebrate your tiny achievements because i'm genuinely proud of everything you do. i'm aware that being the best at work doesn't mean i'll be the best boyfriend. i forget that sometimes...” you glare, “most times." he corrects.
satoru takes a careful step toward you. "i care about you—more than you know, i think. you don't deserve to be neglected at all, and you don't.." he inhales through his teeth, "you don't have to put up with me if you don't want to anymore. i know how hard i make it, and i know a sorry isn't going to make it better."
you don't think you've ever seen satoru look so small.
"i can't ask you to stay with me, but we both know how selfish i am, so i'll beg you to stay with me anyways."
he doesn't miss the quick upturn of your lips. but it disappears as fast as it came.
you break eye contact and he feels his world shatter.
"how are you going to fix this?"
"...by reminding you i'm your perfect match?" he squeaks.
you sigh, "you're so unserious."
lanky arms wrap around your figure, caging you against his chest. you close your eyes, naturally sinking into his embrace. "i won't blame you if you break up with me, but i'll just let you know i'll definitely drop dead and you'll be responsible for killing the strongest sorcerer in the universe."
"that doesn’t sound that bad. everyone would know me and fear me—you know how popular i’d be?”
he's silent for a good, long second. "that's cold, my love."
it's so childish, in the way that he speaks. but in a way, he just revealed more to you than his semi-serious little monologue could ever do.
satoru is such a wuss, but he's never had someone love him like you do and he malfunctions. he can't fathom the thought of losing you, but also can't stomach the fact he's not good for you.
but he's trying. you know he is just from the way his knuckles brush against your cheek during the early hours of the morning; you know he's trying when he sneaks off during work to join you on your lunch break.
you know he’s trying because his students say he seems so gentle when he looks at you.
you know he's trying because he's here right now, after showing you he’s not the strongest despite everyone (and himself) proclaiming he is.
your arms curl around him and satoru gets his answer.
he's home.
#angel by beabadoobee !#i was writing my debut speech for my best friend and i had the strongest urge to write for our beloved old man#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo fluff#gojou satoru x reader#gojo imagines#jujutsu kaisen gojo
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Request for metal bat/garou / flashy flash reaction after he made s/o cry with their word. Like really rude or angry that hurt s/o feeling
Oop- so a part two on the making reader cry series 🥱
Ik I took my time..was quite busy. BUT I HOPE Y’ALL HAD A NICE NEW YEARS EVE!!
When they make you cry Pt. 2
Included: Metal bat, Garou, flashy flash
Gn!reader
Requests are open!!
Metal bat
I Can’t imagine this guy ever being rude to you
Like he treats his little sister like royalty so I believe he’d be no less with you
But let’s say he had a REALLY REALLY bad day
And you just happen to want to tell him about your day because you saw something really funny
“Could you just shut up for once. Seriously.”
You try asking him what’s wrong but he keeps dismissing you and it makes you mad. Mad to the point where you’re crying from frustration.
He doesn’t notice your tears at first but once he does he immediately regrets it. 
He’d look at you all worried and wouldn’t know how to stop making you cry so he stands there next to you not knowing what to do with his hands. Should he wipe your tears? Pull you into a hug? Damn zenko never taught him this stuff.
“Please don’t cry- I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry!”
Thinks he’s the biggest jerk and asshole for making you cry and won’t forgive himself.
Will explain to you that he had a bad day and apologize for lashing out on you.
Will give you the best treatment afterwards and spoil you rotten to make you feel better
Garou
Getting into feisty arguments and fights with this guy was not rare in your relationship. You’d sometimes even go days without speaking.
But this time was different. You both got into a fight which escalated a LOT. Garou’s self control got out of hand and he said some things that hurt you like nothing ever did. It felt like he stabbed right into your heart.
Of course you started to cry. Was that really the way he thought about you?
He realized himself that what he said was a bit too much when massaging his temples out of frustration, “ah shit..look Y/N forget what I said.”
But that would just make you more upset. How could he simply take back something this severe?
He couldn’t stand seeing you cry in front of him. You really were one of his only weaknesses.
He’d pull you into a tight hug and wouldn’t let go even if you demanded to.
“Not letting ya go..y’know I love you right?”
You both are too stubborn to admit one of you was in the wrong but he still apologizes in his own way.
Lots of physical affection. He will make sure not to lash out on you like that again
Flashy flash
While he tends to avoid unnecessary conflict especially with his lover, he simply won’t stand still if something bothers him - even if it’s you.
Sometimes you could just be a little too much for him, a little too overbearing.
And Flashy flash was one to bluntly say what was on his mind. There was no need for sugar coating.
So when he said that you were being too much on him, it came off harsher than intended.
You were immediately drawing to conclusions, thinking that he wanted to break up with you. It was only natural for tears to fall down your cheeks.
Flashy flash certainly got surprised. This was the first time he’s ever seen you in such a vulnerable state. The first time he’s seen you cry.
Without a word he’d immediately wrap his arms around you, something rather unusual for him to do even as your boyfriend.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’d mutter a little apology and let you cry yourself out.
Little words would be spoken to eachother but you’d both understand what the other felt. And you’d both try to better yourselves for the other.
#flashy flash#flashy flash x reader#one punch man#garou#headcanons#garou x reader#garou opm#metal bat x y/n#metal bat x reader#metal bat#opm headcanons#opm#opm garou#genos x reader
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Scenic Route
Summary: Road trip entertainment dries up fast, but Soonyoung has one more idea to help you pass the time.
▸ Pairing: Soonyoung x F!reader
▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp / established relationship
If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.
▸ Warnings: unsafe driving, oral (m, f receiving), piv, (light) breath play, creampie
▸ Word Count: 2.1k
▸ A/N: Wishing the happiest of birthdays to my lovely friend @onlymingyus! I hope you enjoy this slice of debauchery cake!
@shuadotcom is my beta and my world <3
Love you both sm!
“I’m bored.”
“You’re bored? You’re not even driving,” Soonyoung scoffs, gaze fixed on the road ahead.
The problem with road trips is that between the rest stops and attractions, there are too many dead zones with little to look at in between. You’ve read, slept, listened to an audiobook, and even after another nap, you and Soonyoung still haven’t arrived at your destination for the night.
“Yeah, I’m not driving or doing anything else. My phone has no bars,” you pout as you put your screen to sleep again, silently praying for the millionth time for better service.
Soonyoung’s been with you long enough to know when you’re on the cusp of boredom-induced crankiness, so he racks his brain for ideas as he reaches over to squeeze your thigh comfortingly. “If you’re so bored, why don’t you get off and then go back to sleep?”
You’re sure that Soonyoung can feel your eyes boring holes into the side of his head. He can’t hide the way the sides of his lips quirk up, but he makes it a point not to return your stare. “You’re serious?”
His free hand moves from your leg to gesture at the steering wheel instead. “Unless you want to switch?”
Ahead of you, there’s only an endless stretch of road and no other cars for what seems like miles. Getting back into the driver’s seat would be the only thing more boring than your current predicament. So getting off….that actually might be the best idea Soonyoung’s had all day.
But upright in the passenger’s seat isn’t the most ideal position. Sure, you could draw your legs up onto the seat and open yourself wide to make room for your fingers – it’s just not that comfortable. Finally, an even better idea dawns on you.
“What if I gave you road head?”
When Soonyoung finally does dare to glance at you, it’s with a mix of excitement and worry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he draws the bottom one between his teeth thoughtfully. “You wanna? Will that work for you?”
You’ve sucked Soonyoung off in plenty of locations – the woods, a manmade hot spring, his parents’ house, a department store dressing room – but never in the car. His biggest issue is usually with keeping quiet and for once, that’s not a factor. So why not?
“It’s something fun to do, like you were saying. Come on, turn on cruise control.”
Soonyoung fiddles with the controls on the steering wheel and adjusts in his seat, giving you enough room to work his cock out of his pants. It’s not the smoothest, but the elastic waistband of his sweats are forgiving enough to work with.
You waste no time, gathering saliva on your tongue and engulfing half of his cock in the heat of your mouth. Soonyoung hisses and fidgets with nowhere to go. When all he does is cuss and you feel him getting firmer, you figure it’s safe enough to keep going.
With his arms just above you gripping the wheel, you can’t bob your head with the vigor that you usually would. Pushing yourself to lean a little further into Soonyoung’s lap, you hollow your cheeks and hold yourself there, delighting in the way he twitches against your tongue. Soonyoung makes a sound that’s somewhere between a yelp and a groan; it’s all the confirmation you need to proceed.
Alternating between swiping your tongue around his length and throating as much as you can proves to be a winning combination. It’s barely any time at all before the familiar saltiness of his precum hits your tongue. Having Soonyoung unravel beneath you is always arousing, but every time you get a taste of his essence, it instantly doubles your excitement.
It’s starting to feel uncomfortably damp between your thighs and you squeeze them for what’s honestly not enough relief, but you will yourself to at least finish him off before you find another position that will let you sink your fingers into your core.
Just as you’re starting to get lost in Soonyoung, he swears again and you feel the car veer to the right. His palm rests against the back of your hand when you try to assess; not forceful or scared, simply reassuring. You slow your ministrations down, letting him rest against the flat of your tongue as you await an explanation.
When the car rolls to a smooth stop, Soonyoung lifts you back up and throws the gear in park. He’s pulled into a lookout spot between a thicket of trees, the front of the vehicle facing the rolling waves of the sea. It’s a gorgeous view that belongs on a postcard. You turn to tell Soonyoung as much, appreciating the romantic touch, but the words die in your throat as you watch his eyes indulgently fall over your curves.
“I need more than just your perfect mouth, baby girl. Let’s have some more fun.”
If you don’t tell him “no”, Soonyoung just takes. And when you don’t stop him now, that’s all the signal he needs. He twists off the ignition and hastily unbuckles your seatbelt, all but shoving you into the back before he ejects himself from the driver’s seat.
Soonyoung is great at eating pussy, so you certainly never require an excuse from him if he wants to do just that. Nonetheless, he provides an explanation of “since we don’t have lube” as he kneels on the ground in front of the car, settling between your unclothed legs as they dangle haphazardly off the side of the seat.
You’d no plans to argue anyway, but any sense of uncertainty went out the window the moment his tongue drags up your entrance and lush lips kiss your clit. The sensation plunges you into a pit of need with Soonyoung every single time, whether you’re ready for it or not. Then, when he pushes the soft muscle into your dewy entrance, your legs reflexively snap shut, only blocked by his shoulders.
Soonyoung lets you trap him there, relaxing his jaw so he can sloppily mouth at your swollen lips, tongue still working into you as deep as he can get it. You can’t hold off your orgasm for very long when he’s like this, eager and voracious. Soonyoung knows it too – and when you start to spasm around him he pushes deeper and sucks as his nose nudges against your clit.
Your hands fly to his hair when you feel him groan and nuzzle into you. Soonyoung reaches up to take your hands instead, weaving your fingers together so he can anchor you as the flame in your stomach bursts into a fireball. It feels like the wind’s been knocked out of you as your body temperature spikes and you fall to pieces on Soonyoung’s tongue. He lets you ride the feeling out on his face, content to forgo oxygen if it means breathing only you in instead.
It feels like your climax lasts forever, though it’s clear that Soonyoung’s been (impatiently?) waiting for you to reach a plane of calm bliss when he rises and his bottoms are pulled just below his ass to expose his cock, hard and weeping from the tip. You crane your neck to get a better look, but Soonyoung does one better and climbs right on top of you, caging you on your back between his knees.
You call to him and Soonyoung singsongs your name back, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. At the last second, you turn your head and force him to meet your lips, giggling at the taste of yourself on him. “Love you,” you whisper.
Soonyoung pulls back just enough to study you, showering you with affection with his eyes before he repeats, “Love you too, baby.”
He scooches forward and then he’s pushing inside, cock pulsing as your walls mold around him. You gasp along with him, holding onto his forearms as he starts to move. Soonyoung looks so good like this: chin tucked into his chest and brows tight as “fuck yes”s and more “love yous” tumble from his lips. Taking in the sight helps you to appreciate the slight burn that comes with his cock stretching you open, as is always the case when you’re both too excited to bother going any slower.
What helps the most, though, is the way Soonyoung mumbles out praises when he begins to thrust with real intent.
“So perfect for me, made for me.” “You always feel so good, princess.” “Taking this dick like a fucking pro.” No matter how vulgar it sounds, the praise feels like a weighted blanket, wrapping you up in threads made of need and adoration.
The distant sound of tires on gravel threatens to pull you from the headspace that is only Soonyoung, a moan dissipating in your throat before you can breathe it out. He’d ignored the way the car felt like a sauna and how cramped this all was, but the threat of being caught finally gets him to pause.
Soonyoung grouses as he pulls himself from you, twisting around awkwardly to bat your legs until you pull them closer so he can slam the car door closed. With your quarters at their tightest yet, he yanks you toward him by your hips and then rocks you back with your knees folded into your chest.
This time when Soonyoung sinks into you, it’s so much deeper. He sets a breakneck pace, pupils blown as he watches you whine at the feeling while he smacks his hips into your ass. The tires you heard earlier are less distant now, but Soonyoung won’t let you worry about it further.
He presses his entire body into you, your combined weight forcing out a punched exhale as he grinds his hips against you feverishly. The tip of Soonyoung’s cock is prodding at the knot forming in your belly. Your mouth falls open, but he shushes you and makes sure to fully relax atop you, stopping you from taking in enough air to make more noise.
Soonyoung controls everything from your orgasms to every breath you dare to take in. The reminder tugs sharply at the knot as your eyes roll back and flutter shut, succumbing to the pleasure bullying its way through your body.
“Ssh, ssh,” he murmurs above you, voice shaky with his own end quickly approaching. “You can cum like this, can’t you? Don’t wanna get caught.” All you can do is nod as he grinds deep, rhythm faltering as he grits out, “So, so, so good for me, baby girl.”
Soonyoung shifts just barely, but the change is enough to press into your aching clit. The friction surprises you, knot snapping as blood rushes in your ears and your climax rips through your limbs. You’re too wrapped up in each other to see it, but you can hear the way your cum oozes out and pools at your entrance to form a ring around your abused hole. It’s lewd, perverse in a way that would have you drawing in a breath if Soonyoung would allow it.
The way your cavernous walls shrink around and pull Soonyoung’s cock inward slows his movement, but not his intensity. Feeling you gush around him and watching you cum silently, lungs at his mercy, goes straight to his balls. They grow tighter when he finally eases off of you to thrust at one more angle, the anticipation making him tingle.
You gasp deeply and whimper, “Soonyoung” pitifully when you’re finally allowed to breathe once again. You feel pleasantly warm all over, if not a little achy, and smile up at him, dopey.
The sight of you fucked out is what does Soonyoung in at last, gritting out more praise as he stills and hot cum floods your cunt.
You stay together like that for a few minutes, panting and sweaty as your skin sticks together uncomfortably. When Soonyoung finally does move, you sigh with relief as you extend your legs, the movement soothing even if you can’t rest them down properly with the limited space.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Soonyoung frets, grimacing at his own sweat. “Paper towels are in the trunk, I think. That other car left – let me go back there so I can clean you up.”
“S’ok,” you mumble, basking in twilight.
Soonyoung loves you all of the time, but especially in moments like this when all you feel is the warmth of paradise.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he admits softly.
“Love you too.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re passed out with your hood pulled up and cinched together under your chin, head leaning against the window.
Soonyoung peers at you, smiling contentedly at knowing he’s the cause. “Can’t wait to get to the damn hotel,” he says aloud to himself. “Got some more fun for you there, baby.”
#svthub#kvanity#hoshi x reader#soonyoung x reader#svt reader#seventeen x reader#hoshi smut#soonyoung smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#hoshi fic#soonyoung fic#svt fic#seventeen fic
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Be Still My Bleeding Heart.
Yan Zhongli x God Reader.
[The First Contract index]
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance o'clock.
Word count: 2k.
“I’ve heard you’ve been frequenting the Stone Gate.”
Zhongli’s way of speaking is best compared to a geode. Seemingly insignificant upon initial viewing, but once cracked open, you’ll find yourself enthralled by the contents within. There’s so much to dissect and digest. You’ve become fluent in his language throughout the centuries. It wasn’t always a necessary skill. He matured with each passing millennia, his mannerisms aging like a fine wine, though they became no easier to swallow.
Gone were the days of him using brute force to tackle his way through every challenge waiting before him. He’s patient with enough cunning to match.
You almost miss how simple it once was to get a read on your husband. It requires a great deal more effort now, a resource you’d prefer to expend anywhere else than on him.
“I have,” you don’t see the point in lying. “Do you take issue with the fact?”
“That remains to be seen.”
You’d sigh, but even that feels like you’d be giving him too much. You keep your lips pursed to rectify this. He could be so obstinate about the most trivial details. That element of himself has remained consistent since time immemorial. All you wanted was to take a pleasant stroll through Yuehai Pavilion before returning to your usual activities, yet it seems that’s asking for too much.
Zhongli was waiting when you ascended the steps, his hands folded behind his back, warm amber eyes rivaling the sunset in its intensity. They softened for a mere instant, whatever non-issue you were inevitably about to get reprimanded over temporarily slipping his mind. Sickeningly sweet affection poured forth like vaults of honey, suffocating you in thick layers. You weighed the merits of turning around and venturing elsewhere, then remembered this fabled ‘elsewhere’ doesn’t exist.
He might be testing mortal life, but that doesn’t make Liyue any less of his domain than it was when the Yakshas were greater in number and the adepti gathered for banquets at the Guili Assembly. He could follow you anywhere, you can’t control that. You can, however, control how bad of a mood he’ll be in when he finds you.
Presently, Zhongli places an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, the gesture that was meant to comfort you worse than the spears chaining Osial down to an abyssal depth.
“I hope this isn’t a consequence of us living amongst the people of the Harbor.”
In the same way you are attuned to him, Zhongli is an uncontested expert in all things concerning you. His fervor is born from ardor whereas yours stems from a place of self-preservation. There is no side of you he hasn’t seen, no angle he hasn’t committed to memory with the zeal of a religious fanatic. His seemingly infinite reservoir of knowledge frightens you. There are times when you wonder if he knows you better than you know yourself.
This is further evidence of the possibility.
“… What do you mean by that?”
Zhongli raises an eyebrow. “My heart, please, don’t play dense. We both know you’re anything but. Something’s been troubling you ever since we’ve taken up residence here. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy adjustment, but if this is proving too detrimental for your wellbeing, I’ll have to take appropriate measures.”
You place your hands on the railing in front of you, leaning forward ever so slightly. The wind catches in your hair, carrying the familiar scent of the ocean and dinner being cooked by households awaiting the return of their loved ones. The day draws to a close. You hear laughter, the sound of children playing; two boys struggling to keep up with a little girl who goads them on. This lively scene cannot be found atop Mt. Hulao or any other secluded area you’d be held prisoner in if he thinks it best.
“You take on everyone’s burdens,” Zhongli disregards the view in favor of examining your side profile. You know which one he finds more picturesque. “I adore and fear that trait of yours. I knew there’d be no avoiding it, as it’s embedded in your nature, but I didn’t anticipate you getting this attached.”
“You’re exaggerating the severity of things.”
“Am I?” There’s a slight challenge in his voice you can’t bring yourself to match. “I heard you requested Xiao’s assistance in finding a little girl’s lost doll. An expedition that took multiple days of our Conqueror of Demons’ time.”
“Children are Liyue’s future — I’m doing my part to ensure their happiness.”
“Last week, I found you lecturing a gentleman who voiced dislike of Xinyan’s music. It took you an hour for you to notice my presence. Another hour to let him leave.”
“It was a civil discussion, not a lecture. I left room for him to interject if he had anything worthwhile to say. It isn’t my fault he became tongue-tied when his brutish behavior was confronted.”
“You recently asked me to reshape a mountain range so that Qiqi would have easier passage on her herb-collecting journeys.”
“Are you not the one who once promised me you’d ‘shift the sun’s placement in the sky’ if I ever found it unsatisfactory?”
Zhongli coughs into his gloved hand to hide his embarrassment. “I… was young then. My prose reflects that.”
“2,500 hardly qualifies as young, old man.”
“It does for beings like us. Now,” he seems eager to move on from the subject, “The examples I listed are the mildest. You’re spreading yourself thin, concerning yourself with matters beyond your control. I’ve seen what it did to you in the past. As your husband, I must ensure that doesn’t happen again.”
There’s something else at play here, yet you’ll leave that detail to be uncovered later.
“If I’m understanding this correctly, you’re criticizing me for caring about the people who you spent centuries shedding blood — yours and others — over.”
You don’t bother hiding the bitterness on your tongue. He’s worse than a thorn in your side, he’s a knife, jabbed in so deep that pulling it out is no longer an option. You have to live with the blade’s intrusion and adjust accordingly to the pain. It’s obvious to you that he’s been stewing on this for a while, the trips to the Stone Gate must’ve been the final nail in the coffin. You’ll both argue circles around each other until the heart of the issue is addressed.
The specifics of the contract you signed many, many years ago stipulate you may not leave Liyue’s borders unless a particular list of requirements is met. It isn’t like Zhongli is actively looking to punish you — he said so many times himself — which is why he becomes extra stifling when he thinks you’re pushing your limits. Or his limits, to be precise. The God of Contracts takes these matters very seriously.
Eventually finding you can’t take the silence any longer, you come right out and say it. “It’s true that I can get a bit too… involved when it comes to helping mortals. I see the solution right in front of me and wish those involved could see it too. That’s why I was seeking out a fellow god who is better at handling these situations with the appropriate nuance.”
His face gives away nothing when he speaks. The same cannot be said for the low timbre his voice takes on.
“And what god other than myself might my dearest spouse be seeking the audience of?”
“Barbatos,” you reply without hesitation. Something cold runs through the air between you. “He’s lived amongst mortals for so long. I might have some issues with his carefree temperament, but he knows how to guide others in that human form of his. Perhaps ‘guide’ isn’t the right word. He offers just enough for them to reach the solutions themselves. I want to learn from him.”
In a split second, his diamond-shaped pupils thin into slits, reminiscent of his draconic form. It’s gone in the time it takes you to blink. He sighs, his gaze finally breaking off from you. You feel his hand settle on the small of your back in what can only be described as a possessive gesture. Zhongli rarely touched you in public for the sake of social decency. This revelation must’ve been enough for him to discard the propriety he associates himself with in the current era.
You can tell he’s thinking and you let him. While he chews on the truth, your eyelashes flutter shut, blocking out the sensory stimuli you normally adore. Memories come and go like the ocean’s waves brushing up against the shoreline of your beloved Yaoguang Shoal. Had things gone differently, you’re confident you would’ve learned the lessons you’re currently seeking out on your own. The centuries you were forced to spend separated from mortals, incapable of answering their many desperate prayers, built an intimidating wall.
You’d either need to scale it or tear it down in its entirety — you’re not going to let your husband add to its height.
“He’s a whimsical spirit, so our paths never managed to cross,” you look up at the stony countenance of Zhongli, who weighs your every word on an internal scale. Judgment could be in your future dependingly. “I’ll stop making my trips there. You have my word.”
“You can continue to do so as long as I am present,” his earrings catch the dimming sunray’s when he turns his head in your direction. “I’m not the unreasonable man you try to make me out to be, [First]. Let this be proof of that.”
No, he’s probably worse. Hiding his domineering tendencies beneath a thin veneer of amicability. You keep the thought to yourself. You’ve already pushed him far today by admitting what you did. Limits were meant to be teased, not breached. No one knows this like you do.
“I accept the terms of this contract.”
Seemingly content with this, he nods, his hand detaching from you while he does so. The vortex of tension surrounding you dissipates in an instant. You could relax your posture, but you don’t, a frown working its way onto your face. Encountering Venti by chance really would’ve been ideal, even if it was a long shot. Understanding the hearts of others was one thing, granting them the same vision is another.
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Zhongli muses. It’s a tactic he loves utilizing. Giving vague statements or suggestions so you have no choice but to ask for him to elaborate. An intelligent tactic from a conniving god.
You take the bait, uncaring of how his hook will sink into your flesh.
“Hm?”
“Taking on everyone’s burdens,” he clarifies. “Whatever should I do with you?”
You make a face. He really could do anything he wanted to you — the gap in your divine power is that sizable. It’s by his mercy and self-proclaimed “love” alone that he puts up with your near-constant ambivalence. Not wanting to linger on this uncomfortable topic, you turn on your heels, preparing to descend the steps and return to Liyue Harbor’s heart. If you’re fortunate, maybe he’ll get distracted and start a conversation on architecture or preferably anything else.
This turned out to be a stroll you wish you didn’t take.
“Treat me to dinner, preferably. I made a balm for some burns Xiangling recently sustained. I’ll give it to her while we’re in the area.”
It doesn’t take much effort for him to catch up to you with those absurdly long legs of his.
“Ah. Well, it’s a date then.”
Zhongli observes with silent amusement how you scrunch your nose up yet don’t voice your dissent. You flutter around from person to person, inquiring after so and so’s health, or if a sibling safely made it to Inazuma, dutifully recording the knowledge for later use. Your husband knows how you dislike your association with The God of Love title the mortals mistakenly assigned to you many moons ago — still, he can’t help but find it fitting.
How could he not notice that you overflow with love for anyone who isn’t him?
#has it really been over a year since i've written for the first contract ??? Wtf???#zhongli x reader#yandere zhongli x reader#yandere genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere x reader#yandere#first contract#my stuff
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peter moments part three!
pairing: peter parker x reader
w/c: 1918
a/n: hi i hope u guys r having a great new year so far :) i kept this in the drafts for weeks and im throwing it out here now. school is back up so im sad again but i hope u guys r all well <3 enjoy!
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
you not knowing your own boyfriend is new york’s friendly neighborhood spider-man has to be the funniest thing ever to peter.
it started sophomore year when you and peter had teensy crushes on each other. you and he often had study dates at one another’s. however, this usually ended up with you falling asleep halfway and him having to pull an all-nighter to teach you the topics of your exam.
peter is hard at work at your desk, preparing for the calc midterm you two had the next day. while you were supposed to be studying, you found comfort on your bed, watching youtube videos of crazy spider boy sightings in queens instead. it wasn’t your fault anyways; the viral footage of the superhero is all that everyone’s talking about recently.
“pete,” you called out. he doesn’t budge when you call his name, still scribbling math formulas you don’t even want to attempt to understand.
“peterrr,” you singsonged. he drops his pencil and sniffles, turning your swivel chair around to face you, “what’s up?”
“y-yea i’m fine” he answers with a reassuring smile. you don’t know what it is about him recently but you can tell something is off with him; he’s leaving school early, arriving late, and completely exhausted for your study nights, and he seems to be on edge whenever you’re around.
you usually berated him, advising him to take some of the load off and spend some more time for himself, even supporting his decision in quitting band. although, you think your guidance has something to do with your feelings of loneliness and detachment away from peter.
“okayyy,” you draw out unconvinced, “well, have you seen that new clip of the weird spider thingy? it’s crazy! look at it,” you shove your phone in his face. you don’t notice the way he smiles at you in secret, peter thinks it’s adorable how excited and easily distracted you get. but he knows it's going to be the death of him when you call at 3 am asking him to explain the concept of derivatives for your shared calc exam.
he’s hesitant to look away from your face. you’re in such awe when you stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at your screen, he thinks you’re the prettiest.
when his attention does fall on your phone, he’s quick to realize what clip of his alter ego is playing and abruptly grabs the device, shutting it off. “hey! what are y-” “you know that’s all fake right? it’s all done on a computer?” “what? no, it’s not. look at him!”
“i’m looking and it seems like it’s all cgi to me.” peter’s doing anything he can to deter you in the wrong direction, anything he can grasp.
“well cgi or not, i think he’s so hot,” you defend. “i mean, can you believe it? with his bare hands! how much does that car weigh? has to be like a few thousand pounds, right? and the speed it's going at? oh my god, he’s so strong.” you gush.
you miss the way peter’s face glows like fire. he’s red, really red. all blushing and trying to control his breathing. you think he’s hot? him? and strong too?
it’s times like these when peter struggles to compose himself and resists telling you the truth. he takes a deep breath, pinches his nose bridges, and opens his mouth, “actually, y/n/n, um”
you cut him off, grabbing your phone back, “it’s so crazy. i heard he’s out every night fighting bad guys and everything. i hope he has someone taking care of him too.”
peter stands there, mouth open, unsure of what to do next. he realizes you’re right, telling you would be selfish, and he can’t risk putting you in danger.
he purses his lips in disappointment and looks back at you. you’re in your previous position, laying down with one leg over the other while you hold your phone close up watching spider-man do backflips for new york citizens. you don’t have a single care in the world. and peter would like to keep it that way.
so he bites his tongue and goes back to studying.
—
a few days later, you and peter arrive back to your room after school.
“thanks for staying up all night with me the other day. i really didn’t know what was going on calc,” you graciously thank him. peter was running on a two-hour power nap before he took that midterm with you, but it was worth it when you came rushing to him, squealing with excitement. you tackled him with a big hug, showing him your exam with a b- written in red marker proudly.
“of course,” he blushes. peter always makes time for you, even if it gets too inconvenient for him.
he makes his way into your room dropping his bag by your door and walks over to your bed to rest, “i’m really proud of you, you know? that test was hard and ms. warren didn’t even curve-” peter stops dead in his tracks when he sees what’s laying on your bed.
a miniature spider-man plush decorates your comfy mattress.
“what’s wrong?” you come up behind him. you cleaned your room this morning knowing you and peter would be hanging out later on so it shouldn’t be too messy.
peter laughs, “you uh, you sleep with that thing?” pointing to your beloved plush. you quickly grab it in its defense, “yea, so what?” you have an adorably angry look on your face which peter knows all too well.
he smiles at you, “n-nothing. it’s cute.”
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
it only got worse as time went on.
you rush through harry’s front door; his lavish loft that his father bought for him to keep the two of them separated, was often used for your friend group to hang out at. your friends, harry, mj, ned, betty, and peter were all waiting for you to arrive, and you were running late due to an unexpected emergency stop.
“oh my god, finally. we’re starving, where were you?” ned groans. you might’ve kept them waiting with the pizza you promised to bring. peter quickly stands up from the couch and walks towards you, grabbing the large boxes from your hands. he spares you a sweet smile with a kiss on the cheek and whispers a soft greeting to you.
now that peter had the courage to properly ask you to be his girlfriend a couple of months ago, you would think he has the guts to tell you the truth. however, he always decided against it, opting to keep spider-man under the radar when it came to you. it certainly got more difficult when he’d come to your place with a limp and sweaty hair all while you would ask countless questions asking if he was feeling okay or if he ate earlier that day. you’re just a curious person by nature.
“i know, i’m sorry i’m late, buuut…” you leave a dramatic pause. “i was out getting these!”
your friends watch you stumble taking your shoes off and holding it in front of them. all you receive are blank stares and confused faces in return.
mj’s the first to speak up, “crocs?”
“no, not the crocs,” you walk up closer with your shoes on display, “the spider-man jibbits!”
your squealing captures peter’s attention when he drops the pizza boxes off on the kitchen counter.
“wait- that’s why you came late? to buy your little jibbits?” harry remarks. “they’re not just any other jibbits, harry, they’re spider-” “yea spider-man, i know.”
ned piques “h-hold on, you do know that-” peter rushes behind you, shaking his head, waving his hands frantically, urging his best friend to shut up silently.
“that uh, peter is… and he, uhm i-” ned visibly gulps, “i have to use the bathroom.” he hurriedly runs off to what you assume is the restroom and you look at your friends and peter weirdly.
“what’s his problem?” you throw your shoes by the front door and wash your hands, grabbing a plate to put a slice of pizza on top. peter stands there, wide-eyed with flushed cheeks and chest heaving, a tell-tale sign he’s nervous or stressed. everyone on the couch stares back at peter while he stares at wherever ned ran off to.
you offer him your slice of pizza, “are you okay?” while nodding his head peter gulps too, “mhm.” he gives you an awkward smile and grabs his pizza from you as you take the back of your hand placing it against his neck and then on his forehead. “you’re getting kinda warm, pete. you should drink some more water. i’ll get it for you.”
you go back into the kitchen, fetching him a glass of water while he sits back down on the couch beside his friends.
“she doesn’t know yet?” mj whispers. “how does she not know?” “even i know you’re spider-man, and that’s saying something” betty teases.
“it’s,” peter sighs, “it’s complicated.”
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
at this point, your friends began to bet how much longer it would take for you to catch on. they even love fueling your obsession with spider-man, sending tiktoks, edits, and new footage of the superhero.
it’s a few days after christmas and you and your friends found themselves lounging at harry’s sitting together near the christmas tree.
“okay y/n,” harry sets his gift in front of you, “your turn.”
this year, you and your friends decided on doing a fun secret santa for each other. you were sad in finding out that you and peter didn’t receive each other, but that didn’t stop you guys from getting personalized gifts for one another. you and your boyfriend are fully clad in matching pj's with santa hats on top of your heads.
“hmmm” you ponder. “is it… keys to a new car? orrr a new phone? ooh! or the new louboutin shoes they released last week?” you hold your present close to you and tap against it while a million ideas rush through your head. harry’s dad is rich; your imagination is unlimited. you once saw harry gift a laptop once for a guy he barely knew.
“it’s even better.”
you hum in response, carefully digging out the tissue to pull out his mysterious gift. your fingers feel something soft, and you slowly lift it out of the bag.
“oh my god! no way!” his gift leaves you gasping and jumping in your seat. you hold out your christmas present out in front of you.
everyone stares at you in puzzlement, “socks?” mj questions.
“only the best socks ever!” you squeal enthusiastically. peter looks at harry dumbfounded, only to find him mischievously smirking back at him. “i’ve gotta go put these on,” you run away excitedly with your gift like a little kid. peter shakes his head in disapproval towards him, your friends giggling at harry’s antics.
“you better tell her soon man, or someone might think she’s spider-man’s girlfriend, instead.”
“n-no! are you kidding? she can’t know, she’d freak-"
moments later you come back out squealing, showing off your clad feet completely decked out in your brand new spider-man socks.
#m’s clubhouse! 🎧#m writes ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#peter parker#peter parker x y/n#mcu!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#spider-man#spiderman#spiderman x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker blurb#peter parker oneshot#peter parker fic#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland peter parker#peter parker angst#peter parker writing#college peter parker#marvel
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1963 - Part 1
a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.
Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!
Warnings: mentions of infertility
Words: 3.8K
Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask
“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”
“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.
“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”
Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.
“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”
“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”
“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”
Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.
“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.
“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”
“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”
“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“
“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”
“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”
“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”
“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”
“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”
“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.
“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”
“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”
“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”
Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”
“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”
“Yes, dear.”
“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”
“Yes, dear.”
Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.
**
Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.
At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.
At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.
And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…
“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”
“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”
“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”
“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”
“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”
“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”
“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”
“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”
“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”
“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”
“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”
“Did you already sign up for a course?”
“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”
“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”
“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”
“Oh? For what?”
“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”
“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”
“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”
“Okay, have a good day, dear.”
Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.
The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.
“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.
“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”
“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”
“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”
“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“
“You called my doctor about something like that?”
“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”
“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”
“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”
“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”
“Really?” He asked, elated.
“Yes, dear.”
Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.
After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.
Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.
When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.
She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.
What was she going to do?
**
“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”
“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.
“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”
“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.
“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”
“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”
“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”
“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”
“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”
“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”
“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”
“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”
“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”
“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”
“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”
“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”
“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”
“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.
**
Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.
When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.
“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”
“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.
“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”
“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”
“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”
“Yep. You working for your father?”
“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”
“Likewise, Mr…”
“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”
“Right, of course.”
“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”
“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”
“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.
As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.
It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.
“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”
“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”
“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”
“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.
Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?
She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?
#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles y/n#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#harry styles#harry styles x oc#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles fic rec#1963
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Hello!! I love your blog and writing style, it’s so amazing. Idk if you’re accepting requests right now or at all? But if you are, I’d love to see how you play around with the idea of a “the boys react to” style prompt with Billy, Steve, and Eddie where they each smoke with Reader for her first time and she’s not that great at doing it herself so they individually teach her how to do a shotgun, and then of course things get spicy ;) if you’re not interested just ignore but I keep thinking about how it would play out with each of them and I think you are so good at doing those (the lap stories and daddy stories are imprinted on my brain at this point I’ve read them so much over the last few days lol) and I think you’d come up with something amazing :)
Hello lovely!! Thank you so much for the kind words I'm so glad you've been enjoying my blog!!! I'm a stoner so I really like this prompt, it may be a little less saucy than some of the others bc its lazy high sex but I hope you enjoy it!! also tell me why I wanna elaborate on the Steve one so bad with Eddie joining in too...
warnings: 18+, fem!reader, weed smoking, fingering, grinding, tit play, blowjobs, hickeys.
Billy:
“Just breathe it in like this, sweetheart,” Billy croons at you, bringing the spliff up to his plump lips and staring at you through his eyelashes as he draws a breath in. You watch him open his mouth as the smoke trickles out of his throat, expertly controlling the smoke that wisps out before exhaling it all into a foggy haze around your face. “See? Not so hard is it?” Billy teases as you nod along innocently, his tongue flitting against his lip as he hands the joint back to you, making sure to brush his hand against yours as he did. He watches your eyes flicker at his touch for a moment, your legs shifting as you try to act unassuming. Billy loved this little routine of getting a girl high, particularly an innocent first timer, then lowering her inhibitions until she let him do whatever he wanted to her. He watches with a smirk as you choke and cough out the smoke you tried to inhale, tearing up slightly from the burn in your throat. He lets out a low chuckle, tutting at you as he takes the joint back off of you. “Here, let me help you out a bit darling.” He coos mockingly, taking another deep draw himself. He nods his head at you and you raise your brows as you realise what he wants, opening your mouth shyly as he leans in until your lips are almost touching. Your eyes flutter shut as he exhales the smoke between your lips, and you find that this time you can inhale it much more easily without feeling the need to cough. You smile in excitement at Billy as you exhale, who smirks and tells you how good you did, making your head sing from his praise. You think you must be feeling the effects already. Billy smokes some more and can’t help but watch the man in fascination at how hot he looks while doing it. His eyes are on you as he slouches into the sofa, head tilting back as he lazily smokes, an amused smirk on his face as he watches you stare.
“You liking the view there, pretty thing?” Billy coos, chuckling as you try to shake your head and play innocent. With a lick of his lips Billy leans towards you again, tilting your chin to ready you as he draws in some more smoke before blowing it slowly into your mouth. Billy doesn’t move his face away this time and you feel your heart start to race as his lips almost touch yours as you breathe out. You bite your lip nervously as his eyes burn into yours, before moving to look at your pouted lips. He raises his hand to your face, his thumb brushing your lips, parting them slightly as he watches hungrily. You let out a breathy whine at his movements and Billy chuckles darkly at your neediness, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you now. His thumb is quickly replaced with his lips and his hand snakes around to hold the back of your neck to hold you still as he sloppily kisses you. You kiss back just as eagerly, wrapping your hands around his neck as he deepens the kiss with a growl, his arms snaking down your body to grab your waist. He wastes no time in pulling you into his lap, groaning at the gasp you let out when he sits you down on his cock that’s already half hard and straining in his pants. Billy kisses you heatedly again as his hands roam your body, settling on your hips and gently rocking you against him. You gasp and moan shyly as his dick pushes against you, making Billy chuckle in your neck as he sucks a mark into your skin. He grabs the remaining spliff from beside him, lighting it again while you continue to grind on him. You instinctively move your head closer to his, waiting for him with your parted lips eager for him to share the smoke with you. Billy takes your jaw in his hand, fingers squeezing your cheeks as he exhales into your mouth again, his eyes darker this time. As you exhale into the air, you feel Billy’s lips begin to kiss down your neck, earning a breathy gasp of pleasure from you. You feel brave and high enough to take a drag yourself as the pleasure consumes you, moaning as he bites down on your neck again before mindlessly breathing some in. This time you manage to do it with only a slight burn and no coughing, which you thank the lord for as Billy starts to pull down your top, his lips now on your cleavage. All of Billy’s actions cloud your mind, his hand that’s slowly reaching under your skirt, the other that is delicately moving your bra out of the way and his lips that are still on your breasts, now taking your hard nipple into his mouth. You moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you feel his big hand find your panties, whining as he rubs at the wet spot that’s formed in them.
“Fuck, you’re already soaked baby,” Billy growls around your nipple, moving your panties to the side so he can stroke your throbbing clit with his thumb. “You gonna let daddy take care of you?” He grunts, groaning when you nod frantically on top of him, begging him to take care of you. “Good girl.” Billy growls as he slips a finger into your slick heat, groaning to himself as he feels how tightly you're squeezing this finger. You’re going to feel so perfect wrapped around his cock.
Steve:
Now Steve was no expert when it comes to smoking weed, he’d only had his first joint after befriending Eddie. So when you told him you wanted to try it out with him, he was a little nervous about getting it all right. Luckily for him, when he’d gone to pick up and told Eddie what it was for Eddie offered to roll them for him, saving him the embarrassment of doing it terribly in front of you. But now as he sparked up the joint he realised he had a different embarrassing problem, which was him coughing sharply as the smoke comes out of his mouth. You let out a small giggle at this, passing him his can of drink and checking that he’s okay.
“Sorry, I’m still not completely used to that,” He mumbles with an embarrassed smile, cheeks pink as you continue to giggle and shake your head at him. He puts his hand out towards you to pass you the joint but notices your hesitation as you tentatively reach out for it. “Hey, if you’re nervous to smoke it there’s this thing that Eddie did with me my first time, made it much easier to get high.” He tells you kindly, raising his brows to ask if you’d like to try it that way first. You nod back at him gratefully and Steve chuckles, this time taking his time as he inhales less weed than before. He gently runs a thumb over your lip, motioning with his eyes for you to open your mouth slightly, which you happily oblige to. You feel your cheeks begin to burn as Steve’s gorgeous face comes inches from yours, his soft lips a fraction away from touching yours as he blows the smoke from his mouth into yours. His eyes stay on yours the whole time and you feel as though you’re going to melt into a puddle under his gaze, your heart hammering in your chest so loud you’re scared he can hear it. Steve gets lost in your eyes as he watches you inhale the smoke and then blow it back out into his face, marvelling in the beauty of you for a moment until he remembers he has to smoke more for you. He copies his actions, his jaw tightening as he blows into your mouth again, desperately wanting to just close the gap and kiss your soft lips. The look in your eyes is almost sensual now, eyes lidded and dreamy, and it makes Steve question if that’s what you actually want as well. You breathe the next bit out shakily, panting slightly as you keep looking at him with those needy eyes. He leans closer to you, heart pounding as you instinctively lean in to him too, his eyes asking you for permission before he gently presses his lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you softly, groaning against your lips when your hands wrap around his neck to play with his luscious hair. His hands delicately find the small of your back as the kiss deepens, his big palms on your skin making you feel even safer in his arms. Steve pulls away to moan, panting against your lips as you smile at each other shyly.
“God I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Steve mutters dreamily, a coy smile playing on his lips that you roll your eyes at, grabbing him by the collar of his stupid polo shirt to kiss him again. This time Steve gently pushes you to lay on your back, not once letting his lips move from yours as he lowers himself over you, his thumb stroking soft circles into the exposed skin of your hip where your top had ridden up. He pulls away panting, eyes full of needy desire and lust as he presses soft kisses down your neck, groaning when he hears your sweet moans slip out at his movements. His hands find your body desperately, raising your top up to caress your waist, slowly stroking up your ribs as he nears your tits. His mouth on your collarbone lowers, breath catching in his throat as he gets to eye level with your cleavage, looking up into your eyes hungrily. “Can I make you feel good baby?” He whispers to you almost pleadingly, sending a shiver down your spine as he carefully slips his hands higher up your top when you nod desperately at him, gasping out a moan when his warm hands gently cup your tits. Steves eyes roll back finally getting to have his hands on your tits, thinking about the countless times he’d just wanted to rip off your clothes and bury his face in them. Now they were his to play with as he saw fit, and that had Steve whining, revering in the beauty of you before him moaning to his touch. He kisses you more fervently this time, propping himself on his shoulders so that he can press his body against yours as he deepens the kiss. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hardness pressing against you in his pants, sending a surge of pleasure into your belly that makes you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist to get him even closer to you. Steve groans at this, kissing down your neck as his hands meet your breasts again earning a breathy moan from you. Steve was really gunna have to give his thanks to Eddie after this.
Eddie:
Eddie was taken aback at first when you told him you wanted to try smoking, since you’d been friends with him for so long and never taking him up on the offer before. But he was more than happy to oblige and invited you over to his to chill and smoke. He lit the joint and told you to watch him as he brought it up to his lips, demeanour relaxed as he breathed it into his lungs and then back out again.
“Think you can try doing that?” He asks you softly, not wanting to push you into it if you decided you weren’t ready. But with a wide grin you nod and gently take it from between his fingers, bringing it up to your own lips. “Remember to breathe it into your throat, not just your mouth” He tells you as you suck on the joint, only to immediately cough and splutter it all back out. Your throat burned as Eddie passed you a glass of water he’d kept on hand for you, as this always happened with first time smokers.
“How the hell do you smoke that without coughing?” You ask after gulping down some water, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and then rubbing the soreness of your throat.
“It just takes a bit of practise, you get used to it” He tells you with a wink, his cheeks going slightly pink as you intently watch him smoke and try to copy his actions, only to cough sharply again.
“There’s something else we could try that would help a bit?” He asks nervously, trailing off when you begin nodding, anything to help you get high. “Um, basically if I inhale it into my mouth and then uh… pass it directly into yours, it makes the burn far less harsh” He says shakily, wanting to squeeze his eyes shut and prepare for you to hit him for even suggesting that.
“Okay, show me.” You respond quickly, already having leaned closer to Eddie’s face. His cheeks burn more at your closeness, in awe you’ve actually just agreed to this. He takes a deep draw of the joint before leaning his face into yours, lips almost touching yours as he motions for you to open yours slightly. You do and then you feel Eddie slowly blow the smoke into your mouth, much more easily being able to breathe it down your throat this time before blowing it into Eddie’s still close face. “I did it!” You exclaim excitedly, smiling widely at the boy who had a goofy smile of his own on his face. Eddie doesn’t respond, he only keeps staring at you dreamily, and you feel heat begin to creep up your neck at the closeness of him. “Can you do it again?” You say to him gently, swallowing as Eddie repeats the motions of inhaling and bringing his mouth up to yours, only this time your lips gently touch as the smoke is passed between the two of you. You’re both silent as you exhale, watching each other intently for the others reaction to what just happened. When neither of you make the motion to move away, Eddie crashes his lips into yours in a moment of bravery, and you instantly melt into the kiss. He moans into your mouth as you deepen the kiss, his big hand coming up to caress your jaw while the other finds it’s way to your waist. He pulls away from you breathless, a blissful smirk on his face.
“Fuck, if this is what smoking with you gets me I’d have insisted we do it a lot earlier.” Eddie chuckles, his cheeks pink and his eyes adoring as he looks down at you. You chuckle back before pulling him back into a kiss by the front of his shirt, more passionate this time as you carefully push on his chest to have him lay back, your lips still connected. Eddie whines against your lips, pleasantly shocked by your dominance as you straddle his lap and kiss him harder. The effect the weed has already had on you fuels your passion for each other, and you can’t help but to grind on Eddie through his jeans, desperate to feel him now that all your feelings for each other were finally culminating. Eddie moans loudly, mouth agape as he looks up in disbelief at the sight of you grinding against him, his hands flying to your hips to grind you harder against him. “Shit. Fuck.” Is all Eddie can manage to mutter as his wet dreams come true in front of him, still in half a mind that he was just dreaming this. You kiss him again in a passionate clash of lips and teeth and Eddie melts, knowing in this moment he would let you do absolutely anything to him. One of your soft hands meets the straining bulge in his trousers, earning a choked moan from Eddie as you tease his cock with gentle rubs. His cheeks are pink and he is panting heavily as you lower yourself down his body with a smirk, Eddie stuttering as you start to unbutton his pants. He can’t believe his eyes when you pull his cock out of his pants, watching the flicker of desire in your eyes as you see his sizeable cock dripping precum for you.
“You want me to make you feel good Eddie?” You ask him teasingly, making the boy whine as you continue to tease his cock with slow strokes. He nods frantically, more turned on than he thinks he’s ever been in his life as he watches you meet his eyes and lower your head to his dick, softly wrapping your mouth around it as you keep up your slow strokes. Eddie moans, brows furrowed and his head falling back in pleasure as you start to suck him off teasingly. It’s gunna be a long night for Eddie.
#Eddie Munson x reader#Billy Hargrove x reader#Steve Harrington x reader#Stranger things imagines#stranger things fanfiction#Eddie Munson smut#Billy Hargrove smut#Steve Harrington smut#Eddie Munson x you#Steve Harrington x you#Billy Hargrove x you
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"mornings with you"
written for day 29/30 of september for @jegulus-microfic with the prompts "permanent/draw"
565 words
Regulus had already gotten up by the time James had awoken. His side of the bed was cold and made, just like typical Reg.
Feet quietly sounding on the hardwood floor, James walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where he knew that Reg would be. He came up behind him and hugged his hands around Regulus' waist, fingers brushing the James tattooed right above his waistline, in between his hips. It was another permanent, not so subtle reminder that he was James’ and nobody else's.
A while ago, Regulus had asked James to draw his name out for him on a little piece of paper. James didn’t question it, happily complying with whatever his husband wanted. But later, when Regulus came home with a new tattoo, James probably should have. Seeing James in black ink in that perfect sight had James drooling.
It was all that James could do to shag him right then and there in their living room with Teddy, who they were babysitting for the afternoon, napping in the guest bedroom. However, James had enough self-control to wait until Sirius and Remus came and picked Teds up and they had left the driveway. Then, it was all over for him.
“Good morning love,” James drawled, voice heavy with sleep. It was a noise that made Regulus weak in the knees.
“‘Morning.” Regulus replied. He handed one cup of coffee to James, loaded with creamer and then kept the other one for himself, black. “Hey, Sirius called earlier this morning and he needs to watch Teddy again today. He should be over to drop him off in a couple hours. I already set up his crib, we just need to Teddy-proof the rest of the house.”
James laughed. “”Kay love. And you're not gonna come home after work with another surprise like you did last time right?” He added, referring to the tattoo.
It was Regulus’ turn to laugh. “Not unless you want me too, love.”
James smirked. “Well, if you make any plans on a whim, call Sirius and Remus to pick Teddy up when you're done, so that way I don’t have to wait.”
“Wait for what exactly?” Regulus asked, feigning innocence.
Rolling his eyes, James said with total confidence, “Wait to fuck you upon every surface of this house. You don’t know how fuckable you looked with that tattoo. With my name, right there, just begging, pleading, for something. I think I’d take you first on the couch, start soft, then move-”
“James.” Regulus cut through his sex fantasy with a stern look. “Don’t start that this morning. I have to get to work and I really don’t want to be late because you're acting like a teenager who can’t control himself.”
“It’s not my fault that you look like, well you, every day.”
Regulus smiled and left to go to take a shower and get to work. Just as he was leaving the kitchen he called out to James. “Jamie! Teddy-proof the house while I’m getting ready please!”
“I can’t join you today?”
Of course James would want to join Regulus in the shower, even though he just got onto him for not having self control. But alas, Regulus wasn't going to complain if James wasn’t.
“Fine. But only because I love you.”
James hurried after Regulus, not wanting to waste any moment of his time.
well well, its the end of the month and the last day of september microfics! we made (i missed a couple days whoops, but i have a life lol) hope you guys enjoyed reading these!! i enjoyed writing them! i wont stick to any one specific ship next month, it'll be a whenever i want to type of thing lol. have a great rest of your saturday lovelies, take care. <33
-a.s.
#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jeggy#regulus x james#james x regulus#married jegulus#jegulus fluff#jegulus fic#jegulus microfic#draw#permanent#addisonstars
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Floyd x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU
Prompt: Soulmates can’t make each other feel pain
Today was as normal as NRC could get. Y/n had spent most of the day watching Grimm, Ace, and Deuce try to avoid studying, helped Ruggie drag Leona to class, and was even able to avoid Crowley asking for more favors.
Now that history class was over, it was time to take the long trek back to Ramshackle. Hopefully this time they’d be able to make it home before sunset. Since the dorm has been abandoned, the road wasn’t well lit and was honestly pretty creepy to walk alone.
As Y/N passed through the main walkway, they heard a familiar laugh, followed by someone asking for more time. Not being able to control their curiosity, they poked their head around the shrubs. After seeing the two near-identical mops of blue hair, with a random student sandwiched between, it was easy to realize what happened.
While Azul was doing better about his contracts, he insisted his restaurant and lounge needed to be staffed in some way. Now instead of placing restrictions on students’ powers in exchange for deals, they would agree to ‘volunteer’.
No clue why this student thought they’d be able to hide and run from the twin eels though. Y/N knew better than anyone that when those two had their eyes set on something or someone, they’d end up getting it.
As the three slowly got closer to the hiding spot, Y/N moved next to the nearest statue. Silently hoping that they’d be able to hide well enough and stay out of sight, particularly Floyd’s.
Y/N had no clue why that eel gained an obsession with squeezing them. Originally it seemed to just be Floyd's form of cruel and unusual entertainment, but now it was on another level. Each time they tan into each other, Floyd would chase Y/N around until something else came up. Until it was time for Azul ordering him to leave, classes started, or Y/N was just lucky at finding a good hiding spot, Floyd stopped for nothing.
Now that the trio was directly in front of the statue, Y/N couldn't help but hold their breath, scared that even the smallest noise would draw attention. Apparently hopeful thinking jinxed them, because right as they were about to exit the walkway, Grimm came bustling in yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Hey, Y/N! Whatcha doing behind the statues? Oh! Is there a hidden can of tuna back there?” Yelled the blue ball of fur as he hurried over.
As soon as Floyd heard the name and saw where Grimm ran to, he shoved the escapee into Jade’s arms and rushed right over.
“There’s my favorite Shrimpy! Why’d you hide from me?” He excalimed while leaning over and showing his usual big grin.
“Oh, well…I just saw the both of you were busy and figured it would be best to leave you be. Can’t have you be late when working for Azul!” Y/N stated with a nervous chuckle, still hoping they’d be able to escape without being used as a living stress ball.
“Speaking of which, man! Look at the time! Grimm and I have a lot to study and need to get back to the dorm. Nice seeing you, talk to you later!” Trying to end the conversation on that note, Y/N grabbed their furry companion and went to run past Floyd to safety.
Unfortunately, the universe continued to work against them. Their foot caught on one of the shrubs roots and all they saw was the ground getting closer. Right before impact though, everything stopped. Quickly realizing that Floyd wrapped his hand around their waist and was the only thing keeping them up. With this realization, Y/N felt their face slowly getting warmer with each second.
“Now, now Shrimpy! Gotta be careful and watch where you step. Could’ve squashed your little friend here.” Floyd said with a smile as he grabbed Grim by the collar and moved him out of reach. Grim wasn’t one to stick around when things were going south, so he started running as soon as he could. All Y/N could hear was him yelling something about meeting up at Ramshackle.
Before they could think of a way to get out of Floyd’s arms, he started to speak. “Well Shrimpy, guess you owe me now since I saved you and your little pet. Good news is I already know what I want!”, each word made his usual grin get bigger and bigger, only making Y/N’s stomach sink lower and lower.
While Floyd had never been able to ‘squeeze’ them yet, he kept saying how he wanted to. Normally, a tight hug wouldn’t be a big concern, but with how the students who’ve been through it have complained about backaches and rumors of a few broken arms, Y/N was pretty much terrified of what they knew was coming.
With their eyes squeezed shut and hoping for a quick recovery, Y/N just hoped that Floyd would be a little reasonable and try not to break any bones. However, even though the hug felt a little tighter than necessary, it didn't hurt.
After another minute of the hug, Y/N finally worked up enough courage to talk, "Um, Floyd? I think the squeeze is done now. Could you put me down?", they asked with a small smile. Hoping that asking nicely would help.
Unfortunately, Floyd seemed far too happy as is and just shook his head in response, "No way Shrimpy! You're the first one to like being squeezed. If anything, makes me think I should squeeze you even tighter." He stated blankly.
This argument would’ve continued for awhile, if it weren’t for Jade walking up. Y/N realized that they’d been so wrapped up in dealing with Floyd, that Jade had been able to take the student to Octavinelle and come back.
“Now Floyd, you know not to play too hard with your toys. Might be best to put Y/N down before you cause bruising.” Jade said with his usual fake smile
However, instead of listening to his brother and letting Y/N go, Floyd just held on even tighter. “But Jade, Shrimpy doesn’t mind it! If they did, they’d be like all the other fishies and yell for help!”
That comment made Jade reanalyze exactly what was going on, and once he pieced it together he let his rare genuine smile come to show.
"Well, it looks like I have wonderful news for our next phone call with Mom and Dad. They'll be so happy to hear about how one of us finally found their soulmate." Jade stated while eyeing Y/N with a half joking and half serious look, before turning around and walking away.
"Wait, soulmate? That's actually a thing? Jade come back here and explain!" Y/N yelled out as Jade disappeared into the building once more.
"Awww, don't worry Shrimpy! I'll take good care of ya!" Floyd stated with a happy sigh, back to squeezing his new found soulmate and loving how they only sighed and accepted the hug.
-———————The End—————————
#twisted wonderland x reader#floyd x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x gn reader#twst x reader#floyd#twst floyd#disney twst#soulmate au
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Hey could you write Percy with a fem s/o who’s emo? Like she is seen blasting her headphones with Slipknot and other bands all the time. Also her maybe having split dyed hair too? I think that would be so cool ngl.
Percy with an Emo Reader
Once an emo, always an emo🫡 I really like this, it’s different from the other requests I get😍😍
Hope I did you justice, it’s been a while since I’ve entered emo territory💔 I played my rock playlist just to write this lmao💀💀💀 not proofread
I love this idea SO MUCH
When people see you, they don’t expect you to be dating the one and only Percy jackson
Dressed head to toe in mostly black, wearing a Slipknot band tee while rock and metal music blares out from your headphones is the last thing some people expect to see at camp
So imagine their surprise when they see Percy holding and kissing your hand, sending a cheesy smile your way while you playfully roll your eyes
You guys are just so different from each other that most people wouldn’t guess that you guys are a couple
You’re dressed in dark clothing while Percy has a little more color in his wardrobe. you’re the black cat and he’s the golden retriever in the relationship 😖
But your differences is honestly what makes you both closer!
Percy could honestly care less on what people think of your relationship
He knows that as long as you’re happy doing what you do then he’s definitely happy as well
Though sometimes you might grow a bit self conscious of how you guys look like to others, Percy is quick to get rid of those thoughts with a soft kiss on your cheek
He understands your concerns, understands why you might be a bit more hesitant to be around him while out in public, but he makes sure to not let those fears control your guys relationship
His confidence gives you confidence💔💔
Moving on, when Percy first met you, it was definitely a really cool experience for him
He thought you were the coolest person, and he still thinks so!
You’ve shown him a whole new range of music he never would have thought he would listen to
The loud drums and guitars hurt his ears at first but he soon found himself enjoying the tracks you recommended to him from different bands
Omg you guys totally give each other song recommendations
His personal favorite rock band you’ve shown him so far lowkey might be sleeping with sirens💀🔥🔥
He also likes all the rock band tshirts you have
They’re different from what he would usually wear, so this dude steals some of your shirts
The thing is that he can’t really hide that he steals your shirts so you’ll just randomly see him one day wearing your slipnot shirt, the black a stark contrast against all the orange camp shirts
If you also wear an accessories, just know if something goes missing, Percy is MOST LIKELY wearing it
OMG AND YOUR HAIR
Percy LOVES your hair
Especially if you dye it different colors throughout the year! I feel like dyed hair is automatically more fun to play with, so you know this dude is gonna have fun with your hair
I can imagine him trying to run his fingers through your hair only for it to get stuck a second later, your head pulled back as he keeps trying to get his fingers through it
Since you most likely dye and bleach your hair often, it’s lowkey fried and damaged, so unfortunately running his fingers through your hair might be a little hard💀💀💀💀 and painful💀
Percy might even wanna dye his hair to match with you teehee
You would paint his nails black when you crash in his cabin for a night (he learns to paint his own nails when you’re not around :,D)
Omg you might even draw some heavy eyeliner on him or add black eyeshadow under his eyes because he probably asked you to😭😭
If you have an piercings, whether it be face piercings or body piercings, Percy’s immediately asking if they hurt and to what extent.
“What’s this piercing called? An industrial? Damn, did it hurt?”
“It hurt like a bitch.”
“Oh wow ok, haha not getting that one!😀”
Honestly Percy slowly adds some of your stuff into his life, your band tees becoming a permanent clothing piece in his own closet
And you’re just happy that he’s so interested in your interests, seeing as it’s made such an impact in your life!
A small thought, you would totally get along with Thalia
You both might share some of the same music interests and immediately bond over it
You guys are lowkey besties
Ending this, Percy would totally let you throw him into a mosh pit if you both were to go to a concert together
#Percy jackson x reader#pjo x reader#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#Percy pjo x reader#Percy jackson and the olympians#pjo x you#pjo headcanons#pjo#Percy jackson#percy jackson headcanons#x reader#headcanons#pjo fandom
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Congrats on the follower milestone! If you're still taking orders, may I please have switches Gwen and Hobie (Gwen as the original lee) with pears and/or oranges?? They've become somewhat of a comfort duo for me, hehe :)<
Fruit(s): Pears, Oranges
Love these two! Writing for them is always fun, though all the spider scrimblos have a vice grip on my brain. Hobie gives off such asshole switch vibes, I can’t even- Went a little overboard with this one, but I have no regrets. (UvU) Back on topic, thank you for ordering your fruits, and I hope you Enjoy!
Switches: Gwen, Hobie
Summary: Gwen is struggling with her self-image, the negative thoughts creeping in as she stresses out. Hobie has the perfect way to help, and while it cheers her up, things don’t exactly go how he expects them to.
Warnings: poor self-image/esteem topic! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!
Gwen stared up at the ceiling of Hobie’s inner houseboat, letting her thoughts drift. They weren’t going anywhere good.
She had failed so much as-of-late. Her dad discovering her secret identity, the anomalies getting out of control, the Spot’s wave of leftover destruction, everything with Miles… Even though none of those were truly her fault, it really felt that way; her mind took those feelings as grim, guilty facts. Growing tired of his bedroom ceiling, Gwen grabbed a pillow, burying her teary face in it. Maybe smothering herself in her sorrows would help…
Hobie slunk into the room, his cheeky smile falling the moment he saw Gwen’s sulking form. The punk sat on the edge of his bed, the old mattress sinking in with his weight. He poked the pillow, making Gwen huff. “Hey…what’s goin’ on, Gwendy?”
The girl groaned into the soft object, shrugging. “‘M fine…” The muffled lie was barely audible, but Hobie’s keen hearing caught it clear as day. So, so much was running through her mind, but she couldn’t burden her friend with those thoughts. Best to figure it out herself…probably.
Damn it, Gwen… A large, calloused hand rested on her stomach, one finger drawing small circles around the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “Not buyin’ that, sweetheart. You need some cheerin’ up?”
Small giggles slipped past her guarded lips, muffled by the pillow. As much as she wanted to deal with everything herself, some comfort would be nice. Especially the kind Hobie was suggesting… Gwen mumbled an “mm-hm” into the fabric, not pushing him away. That was all the lanky teen needed to get started.
Hobie lightly tickled her stomach, his fingers doing figure-eights against her shirt. The other teen’s feet started to drum on the bed, muffled giggles making their way to his ears. It was adorable, the way she let him cheer her up with the silly touch. It was clear the tickles were helping. “Aww, Gwenny, all ya had to do was ask.”
To anyone outside their inner circle, this might’ve seemed strange. She just let him tickle her like that? Yeah, she did; that girl was practically melting. In the midst of her bleak thoughts, a little fluff and silliness was like heaven. Tickling in general made her happy, but the gentle stuff from someone she cared about to cheer her up? Immediate serotonin release.
As much as he loved her muffled giggles, he was after a bigger reaction. The punk climbed further onto her bed, sitting on her thighs so she couldn’t kick him. Hobie grabbed the pillow, tugging it away from her face. The bright red cheeks and wobbly smile he was greeted with made him snicker. “Hey, girlie. No hidin’ those giggles; they’re too cute for jus’ the pillow ta hear.”
She whined through the adorable sound, half-heartedly batting at his hands. “H-Hohohobie! Quhihit teheasing!” To be honest, she loved the teases, but her cheeks were red enough without the cheeky words. “Sorry, but ya too cute to not tease. ‘M sure you’ll survive.” He slipped a finger under her shirt, scratching at her navel with a smug grin.
Gwen squealed, shooting upwards and shoving at his hand. “H-HOHOhohobiehe! You prihihick! Dohon’t do thahat!”
So, of course, he kept doing that.
Pushing her shoulder back down to the mattress, Hobie slid her shirt up, scribbling all around her poor belly button. Gwen practically screeched, her feet kicking out behind the anarchist as she frantically shoved at him. “G-KYAAAH! YOUHUHU DIHIHICK! NAHAHAHA!”
That got a snort out of the older spider, his cool rings sending goosebumps across her skin as he “tormented” her. “Heard of a giggle button, but I never knew ya could have a “lose your damn mind” button. I’ll be sure to remember that one.”
The rougher tickles, while unexpected, were still helping, They helped to drown out the rest of her sour thoughts, replacing the sticky guilt with bright, raucous laughter and giddy glee. Gwen was about at her limit though, his evil fingers pulling squeak after squeal from her wobbly lips. “H-HOBS! IHI CAHAHAN’T- QUIT!”
He huffed, not wanting to go too far. The punk switched from pokes to rubs, patting and massaging her buzzing tum to try and dull the ticklish aftershocks. The girl huffed and giggled, recovering from the brief, yet effective goofiness. “Th-thahanks Hobs. I needed thahat.”
The punk laid down beside her, grabbing the pillow from earlier and smacking her with it. “Any time, Gwendy. Just gotta ask.”
Gwen yelped when the fluffy thing smacked her face, her spider sense warning her just a second too late; her subconscious apparently didn’t deem pillows a threat. She was about to hit him back when she realized she had a great opportunity to be a shit. Even though she loved it, payback could be given…heheh.
Pouncing out of nowhere, she wrestled with her friend, eventually managing to pin him to the bed. While he was a bit stronger, she had caught him by surprise, throwing him off his game. Gwen playfully wiggled her fingers in front of him, smirking. “TIme for a taste of your own medicine, Hobie~”
Before he could protest, five nimble fingers dug into his belly while the other pinned his arms above his head. Hobie didn’t care to hold anything in, just letting the giggles flow as he squirmed. It was apparently the wrong day for him to wear a crop top. “B-buhut yohou liked ihihit!”
She snickered, letting her acrylic nails drag across his midsection. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you back.” Gwen gave his hips a squeeze, giggling as the punk snorted. “Besides, you like it just as much.”
Hobie took the extra effort to flip her off, making the other teen squawk. She was right, of course; he was barely fighting back, enjoying the turnabout. Scorned and feeling brave, Gwen leaned her head down, blowing a sudden raspberry on his navel. That did it.
“G-GWEHEHEN! WHAHA’ THE FAHAHACK?!” She snorted at his words, sitting back up with a smirk. “You flipped me off, you jerk! Totally deserved.” She went back to his hips, appreciating his low-waisted jeans as she traced little shapes onto his upper hips. “Loving your outfit, by the way. Very ler-friendly.”
He groaned, bucking his hips as more little snorts decorated his laugh. His hips always had him sounding like a piglet. “Sh- snrk shuhuhut uhup! Thaha’ wahahasn’t on puhuhurpose!”
She was about to tease him again, but a low whirr sounded in the room, a few knick-knacks slowly floating up in the room; one of their friends was visiting Hobie’s dimension.
“Damn it. You’re lucky, Hobs.” She pinched his side one last time before climbing off him, going to greet whoever just arrived. It was probably Pav, coming over for one of their unprompted game nights.
Hobie giggled off the rest of the adrenaline, rubbing his exposed belly and staring up at the ceiling. He had trained those shits too well…
Taking a deep breath, the punk hauled himself out of the bed, grabbing his guitar from the corner before leaving the bedroom. Hobie hadn’t planned on getting tickled, though he was glad he helped Gwen cheer up. Even if it was a bit unconventional. Then again, what was normal about any of them? He greeted Pav, a smile still on his face as he grabbed out Clue for their game night.
#kasey's fruit shop#atsv tickle#switch!gwen#switch!hobie#lee!gwen#ler!hobie#lee!hobie#ler!gwen#sfw tickling community#tickle fic#tickle#fruit shop event#across the spiderverse tickle#ticklish!hobie#ticklish!gwen#tickle fluff#hurt to comfort tickle#atsv#atsv hobie brown#atsv gwen
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