#this may just be a coincidence and it probably is but like. it's making me have thoughts anyway

[bonetrousledbones]

Have you checked out UT Yellow yet? It's really fun and hits in the feels over and over. And I'm curious who your favorite character would be.

i have not! sadly for some reason i'm just not super interested in fangames so i honestly haven't looked into it much :( that star guy's design is pretty sick though i'll give it that

[crimsonscloud]

alright maybe it's the hyperfixation talking but can we talk about how the end scene of the incredible hulk reminds me of the end scene in wandavision:

cabin in a forest/mountain area

tea being brewed

ominous power usage (wanda reading the darkhold, bruce inducing a hulk out through meditation)

dramatic glowing eyes (wanda hearing her sons, bruce's days without incident counter dropping to zero)

[ghostfacd]

YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before

part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)

ynuser :)

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user1 im loving the aesthetic

user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE

user3 put them toes awayyyy

rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)

➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her

➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??

user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.

user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on

When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.

The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.

The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.

He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.

You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.

“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.

“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”

Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”

And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.

tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !

ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA

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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE

user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other

user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔

➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me

user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car

➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW

sean.kauf photo dumpy

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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬

➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓

user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..

user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!

➥ user17 REAL SHIIT

tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other

➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD

user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean

➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom

user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg

ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!

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user21 this took the cake.

user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market

user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR

user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹

user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE

tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)

➥ user26 I CHOKED

➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN

[notherpuppet]

I know they’re probably not going to go into this (which i understand, there’s only so much time in an episode and they’re telling a different story) but I think about Al’s background a LOT. Get ready if ur in the mood for a read.

To be a mixed Black person in America is a…bizarre experience. You come to realize that due to the coincidence of your genetic makeup, white folks may divulge information that they keep so closely guarded from the ears of “more obvious-looking” black folks. Im gonna bring it back to Alastor, but lemme give some personal context. I’m mixed with Filipino, so I’m pretty obviously not white, yet my ambiguous ethnic makeup in a predominantly white suburbia seemed to make white peers and people feel much more at ease in relaying their criticisms or prejudices of black people to me. I would hear someone feel comfy enough to spew vitriolic racist shit with me, then toe the line like a circus acrobat when around someone a few shades darker in skin tone and a few coils curlier in hair texture. It was constantly infuriating and holding my tongue was a practice to both investigate someone’s true nature and preserve my own safety. I did abandon that method of navigating life in America, and experienced the switch-up white folks made when I started ‘broadcasting’ my blackness. (E.G. beyonce pre vs. post Lemonade). The criticisms and prejudice confessions just came less often, til I saw them being caged up completely after white peers experienced backlash from me. After they realized “OH this bitch is a n*****!?”

Now this is from someone who is brown, but i also wanna talk about my white-passing cousin with a similar racial makeup as Al, who is from the south and oh BOY. (Let’s call him J for this post’s purposes). J’s navigation though simple daily life is such a constant contradictory experience, of which he is still working through in therapy. I think of one moment when he was manager at retail gig and his boss told him that whenever a Black customer enters, it’s policy to give them “exceptionally attentive customer service”. Essentially, “follow that n***** around”. This is just one modern incident of when J would hear the quiet part out loud, despite his Blackness, because his appearance was white enough to make white folks drop their guard. Eventually, my cousin and I took to the same direction where we used our advantage of disarming white folks against them when the time came. We would keep note and record of racism and unlock a sort of “this you?” when the opportunity to expose that person’s true nature came. It’s pretty vengeful thinking ngl, but it is really REALLY hard to resist exposing an asshole rather than attempting to teach an asshole to change their ways. Especially given that such an attempt is an ARDUOUS uphill battle. The experience of KNOWING the truth about what someone thinks of your people, and being opened to opportunities and information that you would not have access to if the chance of your genetics was only slightly different is bIZARRE, horrific, and fuel for constant inner turmoil. (It sucks y’all)

Now back to Alastor; to have been a mixed person in the Deep South in 1930s America—it’s not too difficult for me to imagine how traumatic and convoluted that experience must have been. Especially when legally and socially, things were so much more Black and White. And when you’re on the line in between that, when society does not prepare a place for your existence, it can be SO isolating. You may consider the absurdity of such an arbitrary method of determining class, status, and/or caste much earlier in life than peers, which only further isolates you. You hold a resentment of society now that you know exactly how the other side is operating to ensure your oppression.

And then I think of Al’s weird ass moral code. How he arrived in Hell and (according to Mimzy) began killing overlords with reckless abandon. This is someone who likely had to develop the cunning to navigate 1930s Deep South America as a mixed, murdering, psychopath without getting caught by authorities who are already gunning for you. And now he is in Hell where the rules of society have gone up in smoke and he can fully embrace his rage, resentment, and vengeance. A desire to burn down the powerful people of the world can be accommodated and ANY previous inhibitions can finally be released. The morality of rising above someone by cutting them down (instead of developing emotional/spiritual healing) has become the easier and satisfying option. Finally the opportunity to show the power-secure villains of the world how easily you can tear them down when nothing is holding you back any longer.

TLDR; The trauma of racism in America is pretty sufficient cannon fodder for a severe psychotic break, the development of socially debilitating behaviors and isolation, and a quest for profound vengeance. So maybe that can explain some of the enigma that is Alastor.

And this is just ONE facet of Al. I didn’t even get to bring up the isolation that comes with being an aroace nonbeliever in the 1930s Deep South. Like FUCK. I’m a mixed, aroace nonbeliever from a modern day conservative town and yall….what a weird experience for sure lol but anyway lemme get back to my life. Whole point of this was—-WHAT AN INTERESTING FUCKEN CHARACTER TO THINK ABOUT

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story

Okay, say it with me: FOIL!

You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.

Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.

Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.

This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.

Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...

We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:

His wife is no longer alive.

He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.

He is divorced.

So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉

From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?

Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.

If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌

Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:

The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).

Other things to consider...

How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?

My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).

It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.

The Garden

I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?

Do you recognize this guy?

That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?

And also the way this is phrased:

Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔

In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.

The Consequences of War

This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.

No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.

My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.

[bibluebutterfly]

Okay so I’m taking a risk here by talking about StaticMoth (as some fans will come at your throat if it’s mentioned), but let’s do it since I discovered something interesting.

The main thing being, I noticed that throughout these last few months, there has been a steady rise in StaticMoth fanart (which would make sense as StaticMoth has gotten a lot more shippers since the Instas were confirmed as noncanon), with Viv herself liking the more comedic/wholesome pieces.

Then upon closer inspection (aka, seeing one specific artist pop up constantly and finally deciding to check her profile), I realized that the Animation Director for Hazbin and Helluva has a LOT of their own StaticMoth fanart, with Viv even sometimes commenting on it.

So I’m now beginning to suspect that StaticMoth will NOT be as abusive as we were initially led to believe.

Check it out

(Smiles is the animation director for Hazbin and Joel is Val’s VA, just to be clear) that, and if you check this account you’ll see that they are all a BIG VoxVal fans, and Smiles also mentions how she worked with them a LOT in the show.

Now call me crazy, but I don’t think this woman, or any of them would ship StaticMoth as hard as they do if one was abusive and the other wanted to get away from them. And since the art that Viv likes is actually really sweet at times, I think that StaticMoth will actually be a functional couple.

I mean they also get a playmat and the only couples who get playmats are the canon functional/going to be functional couples (ie. Chaggie, Stolitz, M&M, and Fizzarozzie)

Also while I’m at it I may as well mention that they WERE included in her Valentines post. And in that gif, we have Vox is smiling evily at Val while he isn’t looking. That doesn’t really scream “abuse!!” to me.

Ironically, the last time I saw behavior like this from the team (Viv liking fan art, animators and storyboard artists making their own cute fan art, playmats before canon, etc), it was about Fizzarozzie, and they turned out to be the healthiest couple on the show.

Coincidence? I think not. (Art below is done by Hunter B, a storyboard revisionist and Vivziepop herself)

Now don’t get me wrong, I DONT think that they will be in any way healthy, but I don’t think it will be abusive. Or if it turns out Val does hit Vox to the point of breaking his screen, I think Vox will in return rip his arm out. If they’re abusive, it will be on both ends.

And since Vox has been appearing more in trailers and promos than Val, I think he will be the bigger, more prominent character. And it has been confirmed by many that Vox will very much be as bad as Val. He’s the most powerful the the Vees, and is clearly the head of the group. At the very least, I highly, HIGHLY doubt he will be the uwu babygirl that some fans think.

I think StaticMoth will have a “evil couple” vibe where they probably aren’t head over heels, (their one true loves will almost definitely be money and themselves), but they have a blast bringing other people down together. They will be equally awful, we’ll hate them, but we will LOVE to hate them.

Or I’m dead wrong, and this post will age like milk.

[hispg]

Love

Pairings: Fuckboy! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: Maybe he loves everything about you, or maybe he hates you. Yet he always looks for you when he needs you.

That must mean something, right?

Wc:2.6k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, masturbation( m receiving), reverse cowgirl, smoking during sex, mentions of weed and alcohol, slightly praise/degradation, toxic relationship, light angst, finger riding.

An: I should have posted this a few days ago, but recently I've been feeling quite insecure about my writing.Even so, I decided to post it.

Also as a thank you to the 600 followers! Seriously! Last month I had 200, and now I've basically tripled that!I feel very grateful and happy that each and every one of you takes the time to read what I write! Leaving a comment or reblogging, the likes also motivate me a lot! That's very special to me.

If all goes well, tomorrow I'll post 2 pieces of smut, one related to Leon being your childhood friend (more cute and awkward? Idk), and the other will be with breeding kink (🤨). It'll be kind of a thank you to the 600 followers.

Thanks again! 💖💖💕

He loves the way your body lies on the floor, he loves the way you breathe. The breathless smile you give him every time you've just had sex.

Or even the way you let yourself be so exposed to him, lying completely naked, without a shred of shame.

He may love all this about you, but he doesn't love you. If that makes any sense.

Maybe he's too fucked up to be thinking like that, or maybe he's blaming it on the weed. Even if he was quite lucid.

He already knew he'd be leaving soon, it was always like that. Sex without commitment, just for fun. He insisted on muttering these phrases to himself every time he was with you.

You made him feel so alive that he even forgot that it wasn't supposed to mean anything, it was just another fling.

If it was just one more, why did he keep coming back to you? Why was it that every time he wanted to talk late at night he called you, at the very least it had to mean something. Or maybe it was just a coincidence of fate?

He can't say, to be quite honest. He was probably just thinking too much, maybe he just liked you for the affection you gave him, which frankly he adored.

Maybe he'd fallen under that spell.

"Are you leaving?" You ask in a whisper, offering the same sweet smile as always.

"Soon, doll." He says in a whisper, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

It seems you've managed to take his mind off his own thoughts, and now he's looking you up and down with a thoughtful expression.

After a few seconds he responds with a nod, taking a cigarette from his pack and lighting it.

Gestures like that weren't common from him, but it was different with you. And frankly, it made your heart flutter every time.

You knew you shouldn't feel anything for him, you always did. But who says the heart obeys reason?

"Can't you sleep here?" You asked in a purr, laying your head on his lap and lightly kissing his thighs.

He sighed, taking a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from your face.

"You know I won't." The answer was always the same, he didn't even try to disguise it every time you asked.

It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he didn't want to. And he wouldn't give in so easily.

Nobody said you couldn't make him have a reason to stay, or that you couldn't induce him to say yes for once.

"Don't look at me like that." He mutters, giving you a weak sideways smile.

He knew that look, he knew all the tricks you played on him. And hell if he said he didn't like every one of the things that you do for him.

You still didn't stop, kissing and kneading his inner thighs, watching him as you did it. Letting him stare into your gentle eyes as you tried to persuade him with your antics.

"You're so fucking dirty…" He says under his breath, taking another drag on his cigarette.

He didn't stop looking at you for a second, his hand coming up to stroke your hair, making it clear that you wanted him to continue, and that you had his permission to do whatever you wanted.

He didn't care, in any case if you questioned him about his softer attitudes, he would just say it was the effect of the weed.

Even if it was just a lie to disguise his pride.

Even if you didn't notice, but his expression was always so gentle with you, even if it wasn't such a lived change, but it was there.

And he couldn't hide it any longer from the moment you nibbled and licked his thighs, making him shudder at the sensation that began to arise in his body. The goosebumps that appeared in his every pore.

"I wanted you to stay…" You say softly, as if it were something just for you.

He even pretended not to hear, but there was no way he couldn't have heard. Your sweet voice echoing so close to him. A plea that perhaps if you asked for more, so slyly, there was a good chance he would give in.

It wasn't long before you were kissing all over his chest, letting your hand rest on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze and stroking it with your thumb. You already knew how sensitive he was to certain touches, and you always took advantage of that.

"Doll, you're going to kill me like this…" He murmured, looking at you with another one of his gallant smiles, the one that made you weak in the knees.

"I want to make you happy…" You whispered slyly, running your hands down to his bare midriff.

Your lips found his neck, licking and nibbling, making a point of letting him feel your teeth on his skin.

He couldn't help himself, letting out a soft moan as you had your way with him, it was strangely satisfying that you knew exactly what to do when it came to touching him.

"You do, babydoll, you do." He says softly, reaching down to give your ass a gentle squeeze, as well as a playful slap on your exposed flesh.

You then giggle at him, taking the opportunity to grip the erect base of his cock, giving him wet kisses on his shoulders. You even dared to kiss his nipple piercings, letting your tongue hover on the cold metal, feeling the icy surface on your hot muscle, making you smile against his skin.

Just watching the way he sighed and squirmed against your lips, you could feel your pussy starting to get wet, clit throbbing at the thought of having him with you once again.

His reddened tip was already leaking pre-cum, the liquid sticking to him and your fingers, helping with the impurity of those wet noises.

As soon as you started moving your hand up and down, his grip on your ass became stronger, making you gasp slightly at the act.

You continued with the movements, the wet sounds mixed with low moans and grunts filling your ears.

"You have good hands, don't you?" He said with a smile, sliding his hand down your ass again.

His other hand still held tightly to his cigarette, taking deep puffs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You could feel his body squirming with your touches, his hips moving against your hand for any other kind of friction you could give.

"I bet you're soaking wet, aren't you?" He asks in a cocky way, giving you his usual smug smile.

He knew how turned on you got just by pleasuring him, by having his throbbing cock in your fingers, or even the permission he gave you so that you could pleasure him in any way you wanted.

And then just to make sure he knew what he was talking about, his fingers slid down to the wet surface of your pussy, his fingers playing with your slick, making you moan against his skin.

"Tight little hole wanting attention, isn't it?" He taunts, putting his fingers so deep inside you.

The next thing he saw was you sticking out your tongue, licking the trail of precome dripping from his puffy red tip. The act made him curve his fingers inside you, moving in and out without much effort.

"You're so tasty…" You murmured softly, giving his tip a kiss.

This caused him to smile a little, rubbing his thumb against your clit in a circular motion.

"I want to see you ride, go on, sit down." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

You felt it when he withdrew his fingers from you, resting his hand on the cold floor, just waiting for you to do what he wanted.

And obviously you weren't going to say no.

And you obeyed like a good girl, sitting on his hand as you felt his fingers sinking into you.

"Ah- Shit…" You murmured, feeling your thighs twitch a little as you moved up and down.

He knew your weak points so well that it made you angry, he knew how to make you shudder with just his fingers.

"Such a beautiful little thing, fucking perfect." He grunted, playing with one of your nipples. Rolling and sliding between his fingers, squeezing and pinching.

All this so he could see you moaning and rolling your eyes as you rode his fingers.

You were so beautiful, the way you let yourself be so exposed to him, the way you trusted him with your eyes closed. That should be worrying, but he found it so exciting.

Your breasts jiggling as you moved up and down on his fingers, making a mess of his hand, which by the way was already honeyed with your juices.

"Hmh-, so good," You moaned, leaning on the floor for support as Leon watched your every move.

You moaned and whimpered his name, biting your lip as you stared at his erect member. God, he knew you were dying for him to make you deep-throat him, and don't get him wrong, he wanted it just as much as you did.

Just the thought of his cock buried in your tight throat was more than enough to make his cock throb and twitch, he could feel his blood pulsing to his lower body.

But now, now he wanted you. He wanted to watch as you rode him, as you moaned and begged him to curl his fingers and reach your sweet spots with every movement.

He didn't waste much time and pulled you close to him, sliding his free hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into a hot kiss.

His mouth meeting yours, the way you kissed him so eagerly and sloppily was enough to make him moan and grunt against your lips, his fingers moving in sync with your bouncing.

Your spongy, wet walls pulled him in, accommodating his fingers, you were so wet that he had no trouble sliding in and out of you.

He could do this all day, watch you moaning and whimpering his name, pulling your lips together to try and suppress the dirty noises coming out of you.

And it didn't work at all.

His smile only widened when he heard you whimpering loudly, biting your lip as you rolled your eyes, your orgasm washing over you as you drowned in that pleasure.

"Good girl. Good girl." He whispers, watching as you cream in his fists, your sweet furrow dripping through his fingers.

"Fuck…Oh…" You murmur, stopping your movements, but he hasn't stopped fisting you for a minute.

His skillful fingers caressing your spongy walls, making you look at him slyly.

"Leon… It's too much…" You cry out, pouting at him.

All he does is look at you with amusement in his eyes, leaning down to kiss your nipple, giving your sensitive part a gentle nibble.

"I hope you still have enough breath to give me a good ride." He says with a provocative and seductive tone, smiling cheekily at you.

And well, how can you deny him that? How can you say no when he looks at you like that?

You were incapable of denying such a good proposition.

"Yes… You know I will…" You say slyly, watching as he takes his fingers out of you.

He soon adjusted himself on the floor, spreading his legs and leaving room for you to sit on top of him.

Without any shame, he fisted his own cock, looking at you and biting his lip. His veins pulsed in his cock, which by then was begging for some attention.

The sight was enough to make your cunt throb, your body burning and aching, clamoring for him. And it wouldn't take you long to do what he wanted.

And once again he watched, saw you sit on his lap, your back turned to him as you gave him a view of your plump ass, making him salivate at the sight.

With one hand he held the cigarette, and with the other he instinctively placed it on your hips, kneading the soft skin. He watched as your tight pussy swallowed him, slowly, centimeter by centimeter. Sinking into his lap until he had it all at once.

He watched his cock disappear into your wet folds, and felt when your warmth enveloped him in such a sweet way.

"Fuck, you take me so well doll." Leon grunted, pressing his fingers into the softness of your hips.

"Hm - I'm so full…" You moaned, holding onto his knees as you began to grind slowly.

He smiled sideways, taking one last drag on his cigarette before throwing it on the floor, turning his full attention to you.

The next thing you felt was a warm slap on your ass cheeks, making you swallow and let out a whimper, understanding that he was asking you to increase the pace.

"Good girl." He purred, holding both your cheeks as he just sat there and felt you bounce on his cock.

The view was almost divine, your ass completely on display. He was lost in it, so lost that he could only focus on your moans, on the way you swallowed him completely, his cock appearing and disappearing with every bounce you made.

And there he went, losing all sense and just following the primal instinct to just fuck you, as if it were the last time. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust.

"Leon- mhmm-," You even try to babble, but nothing but incoherent phrases come out of your lips.

Your pussy was so full, so stuffed, that you couldn't even breathe. You'd forgotten how deep he could get into you, how well he could fuck you if he wanted to.

His grunts mixed with your moans filled the room, nothing more than your voices amid the dirty sound of bodies slamming against each other, clashing violently.

If Leon was being honest, he never controlled himself with you, was never able to hold back when it came to you.

His cock twitching as he felt you tighten around him, he grunted so loudly in frustration, he almost couldn't hold back his load.

"I'm going to come inside, you hear?" He says, he wasn't really asking, just warning you what he was going to do.

"Please," You manage to let out a sly little cry, feeling him slap your ass, another one of his requests.

He wanted you to go faster, and you could never deny him that.

Your hips rolling up and down, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you called his name, you even felt that sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Your bodies covered in sweat, heavy breaths coming out in gasps, neither of you could even speak a single word.

You couldn't hold it in any longer, your orgasm flooded you once again, your fluids gushing out, your walls squeezing his length.

And that was the last straw for him, with a loud grunt and a swear word you couldn't identify, he came, thick ropes of cum painting your walls.

Leon just gave you a playful smack on the ass, appreciating you for what you had given him.He knew it had been stupid to cum inside, but he couldn't help himself.

Now all that was left was to wait, he was just waiting until you fell asleep, while you swore that this time it would be different, or that this time he would have some kind of feeling.

But you were dead wrong.

And then he would leave again, break you into a thousand pieces without even looking back.

But then, he would come into your arms, to glue each broken piece together, only to break it again later.

After all, isn't that what love is all about?

[harunayuuka2060]

Leona: *doesn't feel like napping ever since he takes over the "pregnancy" for MC*

Leona: *taking a stroll with Ruggie following him behind*

Ruggie: Have I told you that you're acting like MC?

Leona: Huh? Why?

Ruggie: They used to take a stroll like this. I guess they were already pregnant with Prince Liora at that time.

Leona: ...

Leona: I thought they were just away because they didn't like staying in the palace.

Ruggie: Yeah. That one too.

Leona: ...

Leona: Somehow, carrying my daughter in my heart makes me feel at ease.

Ruggie: Oh?

Leona: Yeah. But she doesn't like me sleeping in the afternoon.

Ruggie: Shishishi!

MC's sister: Prince Leona?

Leona and Ruggie: ...

Leona: Tch. *doesn't hide his disdain*

MC's sister: ...

MC's sister: Sorry. I didn't mean to block your path.

Ruggie: You're still in Sunset Savannah, huh?

MC's sister: *feels embarrassed that Ruggie stated it* I tried going to different countries but was not welcomed, so I have returned here.

Ruggie: *goes to whisper to Leona* It's because of the influence of Al Asim. I think they have banned her or something.

Leona: Ah. I see.

MC's sister: B-By the way, how's MC doing?

Leona: None of your business.

MC's sister: !!!

Leona: *the way he glares is somehow similar to MC's*

MC's sister: *is frightened* I-I'll get going now! I-I apologize for ruining your time, Your Royal Highness! *then immediately runs away*

Ruggie: Wow, you scared her off.

Leona: Hmph. It doesn't matter. My day's now ruined. Let's go back.

Ruggie: Okay.

Cheka: Unca! Unca! What will you name my baby niece when she comes out?

Leona: I'm not telling.

Falena: *chuckles* Why? Ah. Are you hoping that you and MC will be thinking the same name for your child?

Leona: I know it was probably a coincidence, but you may never know.

Cheka: *giggles* Unca is so sweet!

Leona: Shut up, kid.

MC: ...

Leona: *has joined them in the bath*

MC: ...

Leona: *avoiding their gaze because he realized late that he's being rude for joining in*

MC: ...

MC: What is it, Leona?

Leona: Nothing. I'm getting out now-

MC: It's fine. You can stay.

Leona: *has a surprised look on his face* *slowly sits back down*

MC: I'm guessing he doesn't realize that he's smiling stupidly.

Leona: ...

Leona: The others are asking if we have decided on a name for our daughter.

MC: You can decide on one. It won't be a problem for me.

Leona: ...

Leona: I would like to name our daughter "Aoife"- *clutches on his chest when he felt a sudden pain*

MC: ...

MC: It seems she likes the name you've given her.

Leona: That's great and all... But why is she doing this to me?

MC: She must be fond of you. *this reminds them of how Liora used to do the same*

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[starsainzjr]

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Lando Norris x director!reader Faceclaim: Gemma Chan

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yourusername posted a story

f1wags

Liked by 419,303 others

f1wags Meet YN YLN! YN is a successful Hollywood director and producer with movies like Barbie (producer), Boston Strangler (director), and Little Women (director) under her belt. Earlier this afternoon in a Tweet, a fan working as a makeup artist on an undisclosed movie set claimed to see McLaren driver Lando Norris on set with a bouquet of sunflowers.

An hour later YN posted a a picture of a bouquet of sunflowers to her Instagram story with the caption "Pleasant surprise at lunch 🥰" (pictured above). Could it just be a coincidence? Sure. But we may soon have a new WAG in the paddock!

View all 20,389 comments

marissa.lancaster4 Hi! I'm the fan that posted that Tweet. Because of the NDAs that I have signed as a part of my employment I cannot say what movie I am working on nor who the director is. But I can confirm after speaking with several of my coworkers that it was Lando I saw on set earlier today.

f1wags Please DM me if you have any more information that you can share!

mickieslaren Am I the only one that gets a bit weirded out by how we treat celebrities' love lives like this? Maybe Lando was visiting a friend or something. Either way it's none of our business what he was doing on set

landoslove It is a bit odd but, then again, both Lando and YN live in the public eye. There are always going to be little things like this that get scrutinized mickieslaren I just wish they could have a bit of privacy is all landoslove That makes sense. But this is out of our control

nowinsnorris YN is literally so stunning. Lando has some serious game if this is true

landoslove He's trying so hard to beat the norizz allegations

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by florencepugh, americaferrara, simuliu and 509,201 others

yourusername Halfway through filming! I have a never ending supply of sunsets and sunflowers 🌅🌻

View all 99,394 comments

florencepugh Come to my hotel room I have a mini champagne bottle I can't get rid of by myself

yourusername I'm omw simuliu Am I invited? florencepugh Sure we need someone to supervise I suppose

americaferrara Go do incredible things! Cannot wait to get my eyes on this once its done

yourusername There's a bucket of popcorn with your name on it!

landoslove Sunflowers she says? 👀

nowinsnorris She's not as slick as she thinks she is

haveyougotpubesyet No bc I'm confident Lando would follow YN around like a lost puppy in the paddock

landoslove I cannot wait for this to get proven real mickieslaren Or we could just leave them alone and let them live their lives haveyougotpubesyet We're not harming them, just having meaningless fun trying to connect invisible dots landoslove Yeah. We're not, like, cyber bullying them or anything mickieslaren I'm just saying it probably can't feel great to have random people poking around in your love life

landonorris Santa Monica, California

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 782,293 others

landonorris Ready to rock 🤘🏎

View all 102,394 comments

oscarpiastri We really need a McLaren emoji

landonorris 🍑? oscarpiastri I'm taking your phone away landonorris 😨

carlossainz55 Welcome back to the real world

landonorris I don't like it I wanna go back charles_leclerc We have the easiest lives ever get it together. Both of you landonorris Yes, father. Carlos come get your teammate carlossainz55 Nah, this could get fun

landoslove SANTA MONICA

landoslove YN just posted from Santa Monica

nowinsnorris This is me not getting my hopes up buuuuut YN is a director and she lives in California... landoslove Lalalalala I can't hear anything lalalalala

yourusername The Outback

Liked by simuliu, florencepugh, americaferrara and 600,338 others

yourusername Out of the studio for the back half! So unbelievably happy to be back in Australia 🦘🌏

View all 102,383 comments

simuliu Yeah yeah pretty pictures can you come kill the spider in my room now please?

simuliu YN I'm serious, I've been texting you for 30 minutes I know you're seeing these simuliu YN IM NO LONGER ASKING yourusername @/florencepugh do you hear anything? florencepugh Nope. All quiet. Not a peep simuliu Very funny. When I die who are you going to get to finish your movie? yourusername I am on my way to humanely get the scary spider out of your room and put it outside simuliu Hurry up it's staring at me florencepugh With how many eyes?

nowinsnorris I'm already in love with her. I might love her more than I love Lando

landoslove YN YLN - Daniel Ricciardo team up 👀

ynsaction I've never been one to gatekeep but if these F1 delulus keep coming near my wife I will actually lose my mind

yn.florence No literally! She is a feminist icon who has said multiple times in interviews that she's not looking for a partner and focusing on directing and producing. Pls stop shoving her into a WAG box ynsaction I'll always welcome more YN fans but every other word in these comments is about Lando Norris. I'm about to scream landoslove Hi, sorry isn't feminism about women being able to do whatever they want? YN is allowed to change her mind if she met the right person yn.florence If you'd been paying attention you'd know the last interview she made her wishes clear in was a week ago which, according to the calendar, is after people started trying to tie her to Nowins or whatever his name is

landonorris Australia

Liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 799,397 others

landonorris Good to be back! We'll continue to work and push and get stronger as the season goes on. Thanks for having me, Australia! 🦘

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oscarpiastri The garage used to be so quiet

landonorris You missed me, admit it

carlossainz55 Bit rusty there, mate

landonorris Says the man who got his third consecutive P4 finish. You ever gonna bump up to the podium? carlossainz55 At least I finished in the points charles_leclerc Guys I cannot keep doing this please

landoslove My boy is back and better than ever

haveyougotpubesyet He looked so happy to be back!

nowinsnorris I'm gonna have to change my username this year, aren't I?

landoslove YES YOU ARE norizz481 Here's hoping I get to change mine too landoslove YOU'RE BOTH GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE USERNAMES I'M SPEAKING IT INTO THE UNIVERSE

yourusername Perth, Australia

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, americaferrara and 600,495 others

yourusername A week and a half left of filming and I cannot wait to celebrate all we've accomplished with these two! Behind the scenes dump coming soon 😉

View all 110,387 comments

americaferrara Congrats all of you! So so unbelievably proud

yourusername Wish you could've been along with us on this ride! See you soon my love

florencepugh My favorite project in a long time! Let's finish this out strong!

simuliu No not that picture 😭

yourusername Listen, it's too good not to share with the world simuliu I'm a superhero, I don't need this kind of harassment yourusername Cope

ynsaction This one is going to be so so good I'm physically vibrating I need it

yn.florence Mother! She's going to win yet another Oscar for this one, I can feel it

ynsaction Our girl don't need no child race car driver

nowinsnorris I'm becoming such a huge fan of YN. She and Lando would be perfect for each other

landoslove Shhhhh you'll scare the fragile film girlies ynsaction God, the f1 delulus are back. I was hoping we got rid of them yn.florence I don't think we're that lucky

f1wags Perth, Australia

Liked by 421,871 others

f1wags Picture taken of Lando this morning in Perth, Australia coming out of a florist shop. Not pictured is a bouquet of sunflowers. This is the second time this month that Lando has been spotted with a bouquet of sunflowers.

Lando has been linked to director YN YLN who is wrapping up her new film in Perth. Only time will tell if YN posts some sunflowers in the coming days 👀

View all 19,878 comments

haveyougotpubesyet He is the definition of boyfriend material I swear to god

landoslove Getting closer and closer to beating the norizz allegations

landoslove IS HE BRINGING HER SWEETS TOO??? This boy is going to be the death of me

nowinsnorris What do I need to do to get myself a Lando

mickieslaren Just reminding everyone that Lando does in fact have sisters who were in attendance at the race this weekend and may also enjoy getting sunflowers from their brother

landoslove Jesus, take your negativity away from us who are trying to have fun mickieslaren Yeah it's fun for you now but what about Lando who is trying to go about his day without having some delusional fangirl losing their mind over him buying sunflowers? If you were really a fan of his you would let him live his life landoslove He's a celebrity! His fans are just trying to connect to him mickieslaren When I hear that Lando has gotten a restraining order against a fan I will not be surprised when you suddenly get very quiet

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by americaferrara, florencepugh, landonorris and 671,209 others

yourusername This is where the fun begins 🎞 Three months of editing coming up

View all 105,448 comments

florencepugh Im omw with more coffee

yourusername I love you

americaferrara Ahh keep the Excedrin close by

yourusername There's a whole bottle in the corner

simuliu I hope you're making me look good

yourusername Yes, I'm including the scene where the spider crawled up your arm and you screamed like a baby simuliu You're definitely my favorite director, I love working with you yourusername You are also definitely the star of this movie and have more screen time than Flo simuliu Hey, I will always be willing to have less screen time than Flo

ynsaction YES I have been missing YN editing content so bad recently

ynsaction She is such a mood when she's editing she gets so unhinged

landoslove Unhinged YN editing plus Lando being generally unhinged 👀 ynsaction Jesus give it a rest already

yn.florence I, for one, am chasing to focus on incoming unhinged YN posts

nowinsnorris LANDO'S IN THE LIKES EVERYONE

landonorris China

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 801,387 others

landonorris So close to a podium finish! We'll make adjustments as needed and push on. See you in Miami!

View all 208,218 comments

oscarpiastri So my days of quiet garage are definitely over?

landonorris You're stuck with me forever, mate carlossainz55 Good luck, Oscar landonorris WOW

landonorris @/charles_leclerc your teammate is being mean to me

charles_leclerc You think I have control over him?

ynsaction Not YN in the likes I had such high hopes

landoslove Genuine question; why are you against her finding someone she likes to be with? ynsaction I'm not against her finding someone she likes to be with, I'm against all Lando's fans trying to shove her into a WAG box when she's spoken so much about not wanting a partner at the moment. Especially when it was as soon as a month ago landoslove Okay, that's valid. But we're not trying to shove her into a box. This is just harmless shipping. I'm sure you do it with fictional characters you like ynsaction YN is an idol to me. I'm protective over her, I'm sorry if I've been bitchy landoslove I've been bitchy too, I apologize as well

mickieslaren I still don't like pushing into celebrity love lives

yourusername Miami, Florida

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, landonorris and 622,118 others

yourusername First time out of the studio since editing started. Thank you @/f1 for hosting me!

View all 200,377 comments

f1 Anything for our favorite director!

florencepugh Did you see The Guy???? 👀

yourusername It's not too late to make the movie about Simu simuliu YES... I mean, yeah did you see The Guy???? 👀 yourusername You're both blacklisted from my film sets

mclaren Give us a heads up next time you come! We'll set you up in the garage!

yourusername Oh that would be incredible! Thank you so so much!

ynsaction She always looks so adorable I am in love with her

yn.florence Mother is Mothering

ynsaction all hail

haveyougotpubesyet McLaren sipping after her too now

ynsaction Who wouldn't simp after her tbh

landoslove Just soft launch already

landoslove Florence and Simu chirping her about seeing The Guy I'm DYING

nowinsnorris The Guy is 100% Lando. It has to be at this point

lando.jpg

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourusername and 379,177 others

lando.jpg Hangin'

Comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc You caught me so off guard

carlossainz55 Best picture in the middle tbh

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Monaco

Liked by landonorris, florencepugh, simuliu, and 801,836 others

yourusername Beautiful day in Monaco made even more beautiful by this wonderful boy! Congratulations, @/landonorris I'm so proud of you!

Comments on this post have been limited

florencepugh THE GUY. SHE PULLED THE GUY.

simuliu YESSSS NO MORE LATE NIGHTS DRUNK TALKING ABOUT HIM

yourusername Way to call me out, guys, thanks for that. You do remember I'm technically your boss right? florencepugh Movie wrapped, love. You can't tell us what to do anymore simuliu At least until we sign on for another one of your projects

landonorris Awww you drunk talked about me 🥰

yourusername I'll chase you

landonorris Monaco

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 781,003 others

landonorris I have the best date for the party @/yourusername

Comments on this post have been limited

yourusername Best weekend ever

landonorris Only because you were here

oscarpiastri Here's hoping the garage will be quiet again

landonorris No shot but nice try yourusername I'll do my best to keep him quiet for you oscarpiastri YN is my new favorite

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 241,966 others

lando.jpg You have a movie coming out tomorrow. I am so incredibly proud of you @/yourusername. Everything we've been through together, I cannot believe what a kind, strong, beautiful woman you are. I love you, I can't wait to see what you're going to do next

Comments on this post have been limited

yourusername I love you so so much, darling. Thank you for being there through everything

lando.jpg My dream woman

florencepugh Yes!!!! Drinks on Simu at the afterparty!

simuliu Drinks on me!!!

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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

[pxuvalentinx]

May I please req gentle Heian era sukuna as our husband? 🙏

a/n: omg is this me working on requests?? i'll try to work down the list over the next few days (i hope). i am terribly sick so i have time and hopefully also the motivation sob. ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST<33 i wasn't too sure if you wanted both sfw and nsfw or only sfw...SO I DID BOTH...but seperated them so dw! i also didn't notice that you didn't specifically ask for headcanons..but i hope that's okay too! i hope you're having a lovely day anon! SFW - I think he would act like such a tsundere. Acting like nothing affects him when truly his heart is jumping out of his chest, because of his wife. - He probably wouldn't be a man of many words, and more of small gestures that he thinks you don't notice. Like getting you a kimono in your favorite color, or in a design you talked about ages ago, or planting your favorite flowers in the garden. - Obviously he'd pretend that it was all a coincidence, and he didn't do it on purpose, or remembered the specific things you said. - Fight me over this, but I believe he would get so clingy when he's sleepy high. His 4 arms all wrapped around you while he babbles incoherent stuff. His arms would pull you even tighter if you tried to move away. - Sukuna would always make sure that you're pretty and all dolled up for him, whenever you're walking through the halls of his estate. And even if the two of you were only in his (and also yours) chambers, he'd find great enjoyment in seeing your hair and makeup all done. - As much as he loved to make teasing remarks about you, when you showed genuine insecurities or felt bad, he would certainly try his best to cheer you up or make you feel better about whatever you're insecure about - in his, well, own way. NSFW!!!! - Bathtub sex is a MUST. Two hands on your hips and two on your chest, gently sliding you up and down his dicks. There was this stupid grin on his face the whole time. - Sukuna certainly knows how to get you riled up, if it's only gentle breast groping, or one of his hands sliding up and down your ass, maybe even slipping under your panties and letting the fabric rub against your cunt. - I just know this man loves to wake you up with one of his dicks fully shoved in your cunt. Cooing at you and shushing you while his hand covered your mouth. He wasn't rough or animalistic as usual, slow and sensual thrusts woke you up. - You've lost track of how many times he's fucked you on his throne while calling you his queen, soft kisses along your neck. - He obviously loved fucking your throat like it was just a toy, but sometimes just leaning back and letting you do your job, felt better than anything else in the world. Praises are falling from his lips about how good you're doing and how good it feels. His sharp nails were massaging your scalp.

[literallydontknowdontcare]

I’m literally BEGGING a Vanessa x fem!reader where Vanessa gets jelly and it ends up in rough/angry sex

You DO Own Me

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem Reader

PLUS this request: “Can we get Vanessa fucking y/n roughly? Like pulling hair, biting neck and scratching back type of rough?”

a/n: yessir 😜 merged this request with another anon as they coincide… sorry for the delay in fics. I am still sick but that not my excuse: my excuse is I'm lazy lol. This may be shit, sorry ;')

Content/Warnings: Top/Rough Vanessa, Bottom sub reader, smut, choking, strap use [r receiving], rough sex, not proofread/edited, Vanessas kind of an asshole but that's hot

w/c: 2024

The ride home was silent. Well, not completely. Though Vanessa was extremely unimpressed, her lips pressed together and her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, you were having the time of your life. Under the influence of alcohol, you were giddy and chatty, oblivious to your girlfriend's simmering anger beside you.

“And I literally told Mike that he was insane for thinking those robots cut him in his sleep, but of COURSE he decided to ignore me and continued to take those pills. I mean, really? The poor man is half asleep most of the time!”, you huff, recalling your last shift. “What do you think?”, you turn to Vanessa, your half dazed, half-blushed face informing her that you really did have no idea that she was mad.

“Mm”, she replied, uninterested. You, again, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “I know! Maybe I should replace them with some melatonin gummies.. He probably wouldn’t notice”, you giggle, rolling down the front window to breathe. Fanning yourself, the alcohol making you overheated, you gaze at the stars outside in awe. The outdoors really does hit differently when you’re drunk. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was seconds from snapping. Pulling into the driveway of your shared home and parking her personal vehicle beside her cop car, she immediately stepped outside as soon as the gas turned off and slammed the door shut, ignoring your own door and walking to the front of the house. You frown, beginning to zone back in.

“Maybe she just forgot”, you think, in reference to her not racing to open your door or offering to carry you inside as she usually would. Stumbling out of the car, you follow behind her into the house. “Vanessa?”, you ask aloud, wondering where she disappeared to in the span of two seconds. Pausing, you try to listen for any footsteps around the house for any indication of her location. Nothing. “Vanessa? Baby?”, you repeat, concerned now. Half limping, you shrug off your jacket and kick off your heels, wandering around the house. Finally, in the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs office light getting turned on.

Sprinting up the stairs, going as fast as your tipsy body would allow you to, you head for the office. Before you could open the door you heard a mumbling sound. Cracking the door open, you witness your girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, yes. I understand. I just thought- no thank you. I’ll be alright. Sorry for the misunderstanding”, Vanessa answered someone on the line, grinding her teeth when she saw you enter. “Thank you. Have a good one”, she hung up the phone, turning away from you and leaning against the desk.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?”, you whisper. She snorted.

“What? Now you notice?”, she spits, still not turning around.

You bit your lip, anxious at her reply. “What was the phone call about?”

“Work. Nothing for you to worry about”, she then laughs. “Not that you were, to begin with”. She leans over the desk, reaching for a pen and paper to jot something down, and you try to not let your mind race with thoughts of her rolling her hips forward as you can tell she needs comfort right now, not a horny girlfriend.

You walk towards her nervously. “Are you okay baby? You were fine in the car-”

She snaps at you. “No. I wasn’t. If you weren’t so lightweight you would know that”. Stillness filled the air, the only noise coming from the scribbles of the pen as Vanessa jotted down the information from the phone call.

Coming up behind her, you gently place your hand on the back of her arm. “Is this- is this about Mike?”, you watch her jaw clench from the side. Blinking in surprise, you reiterate. “It is? Isn’t it?”

“Drop it”, Vanessa scowls, shoving herself off the table. Your foggy brain couldn’t help but think ‘muscle memory’ with the way she practically ground against it in annoyance.

“Are you serious? He’s a respectful guy! His old crush means nothing”, you protest.

“Nothing? You make me sick”

“What do you want from me? For me to spit on him and never talk to him again?”, you snap, frustrated now.

She crosses her arms. “Preferably”, she snickers. She comes closer to you. “Or maybe you like the attention? Hm?”

You pull away, hurt. You’d like to believe she was drunk saying this, but she was completely sober. “Vanessa-”

“Poor you, huh? Do I not give you enough attention? Is my poor baby always so needy”, she mocked, snarling.

You blink away tears and begin to walk out of the office when you feel a gust of wind and a sudden thud against your back. Gasping, you slam into the wall, your head narrowly missing the collision. Before you could turn around, you felt Vanessa pin your hands behind your back, her cuffs clenching around your wrists and shutting with a loud ‘click’.

“What the fuck Van-FUCK”, your sentence gets cut off as you hear a loud smack; Vanessa had just hit your ass. You feel numb for a few seconds, and then everything after that. You whine out, trying to cover yourself as she grabs your cuffed wrists and pins them above your head, her other hand coming around your waist to arch your back towards her. “Always whining. Never taking what I give you”. She slaps you again, the force of her hand biting your skin, surely leaving red marks that would turn purple tomorrow. You bite your lip, pain, and pleasure fighting to take over your emotions. You settle on both and she digs into your scalp, raising you up to her. You whimper out as she turns your head to the side and begins to suck at the front of your neck. Your life flashes before your eyes; having to walk in tomorrow at Freddy’s, a hickey so prominent that any efforts to hide it with makeup make it look evening trashier, and Mike seeing exactly what she did to you. You never understood her anger when it came to Mike; she liked him well enough. You just were never allowed to talk to him, apparently.

“Vanessa, please”, you whisper as she bites the side of your neck, pain seeping in. Squirming, she finally releases you. You flop against the wall, breathing heavily as she stares you down.

“Look at you”, she hisses. Everything about Vanessa commanded respect. Not one part of her demonstrated sex except for her slightly flushed cheeks and large pupils. Her hair was perfectly in place, her shirt was properly ironed. You, on the other hand, were tied up, beaten, and most definitely not commanding respect. It was exactly how Vanessa liked it on days like this.

She leans forward, tangling her hands gently in your hair. She tugs on your strands gently, lulling you into a false sense of security as you close your eyes, content. You should have known it wouldn’t last. “Pathetic, you are”, she says. Suddenly, she drags you to the office desk, making you gasp out in pain, flinging your hands to hers in a poor attempt to release her grip. Shoving you over the desk, she had you right where she wanted you in the first place; bent over and tied. “What, you thought I was going to treat you?”, she laughs. You stutter, words being unable to properly form. “Nothing happened! You were there the whole time! Why am I being punished for your jealousy issues?”, you yell out as she begins to scratch your back deeply. Her nails dig into your skin, fire spreading everywhere you touch. Wailing and twitching in her grasp, you hear her from behind. “Stupid girl. So disappointing when you act out against me”, she taps on the handcuffs. “Are you forgetting who protects you? I can harm you instead if you want baby, just ask”. She pauses, waiting for your reply. Nothing.

She smiles. You can feel the cockiness being emitted without even seeing her. Instead, you intently stare at the table, wishing you were in bed right now instead of feeling the humiliation of your girlfriend lifting up your skirt to check your panties.

The cold table was a harsh polarity to your pussy; you hated how your pussy was throbbing faster than your heart. Vanessa hummed from behind you, clearly amused and proud of you. Leaning over you, the shape of her breasts being felt against your back despite her clothing, she whispers a soft “I love how much of a whore you are”, before standing back up and softly grinding her front against your bare ass. You widen your eyes as you feel something hard press against you. You love how hot and cold Vanessa can be. No matter how rough and angry she can get, she can never resist treating you first.

The sound of her unzipping her pants was as close as you were ever going to get to hearing church bells. Hell, even angels singing couldn’t replicate the sound of her strap slapping your pussy. Shutting your eyes, your brace yourself against the table, moaning as her cock dipped into your soft entrance.

“You think you deserve this?”, she asks, moving your hair back with her hands, a gesture she couldn’t help doing. Not when she knew you did nothing wrong.

You nod desperately, grinding your ass back into her strap, your pussies walls clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt for friction.

Vanessa stayed silent as she plunged her cock into your pussy. You, however, most definitely did not. Your screams filled the quaint neighbourhood as she thrusted into you at a brutal pace that didn’t account for your lack of adjustment. Your hands gripped anything on the table in sight, your body becoming simultaneously needy and overstimulated. “P-please Vanessa slow- oh FUCK yes-”, you cry out, conflicted with the pain.

She rakes her hands over your ass, switching between slapping your reddened cheeks and clawing at your lower back. Hearing her deep, ragged breaths, you knew she was close; the strap hit her clit at every thrust, making her let out lowly strained moans. “Van-”, you roll your eyes back, your vision turning white. She was hitting your gummy walls so right that it felt insane. Your arousal was streaming down the table and her legs, which Vanessa acknowledged by letting out a snort.

“Need to come, baby?”, she hummed. You whine, grinding back. You needed this release so badly; anything Vanessa had told you had already been forgiven.

“V- nessa I need to.. Please”, you bite your lip and squint your eyes, begging yourself to not release before she allowed you to do so. You couldn’t risk more punishment. She sighed as if thinking about it. She sped up the pace, pounding the strap in a way that made it ten times more pleasurable for her as it did for you.

As your fingers grabbed at the table, she let out the smallest whimper that made you go feral. You pleaded, over and over again, to come. You felt extremely betrayed and turned on as Vanessa slumped forward, her chest heaving from cumming quietly. “Oh y/n”, she moaned, “Cum now baby”, she snaked her arm around your waist to bring your ass up even higher as you came with a loud cry.

You let go of the table, your body now going limp. “Vanessa”, you sigh, unable to move. Despite your comfortable position, consisting of you flopping across the table and Vanessa holding you loosely with her strap still half inside of you, she pulls out and forcefully slips you over way too soon for your brain. The pleasure was turning into pain again, and you hiss as your ass makes contact with the table, the marks making it unbearable.

“Don’t think this is over”, she murmurs as you pull her closer.

You look at her, confused.

“It’s only 1 am. If you think I’m done with you, you are sorely mistaken”

[magicalbats]

Flesh-Devouring

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18,177

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, public spanking, some very light fingering, over the knee spanking, paddling with a hairbrush, thigh grinding

A/N: Yes, this is a follow up to my Wriothesley Kinktober spanking fic. Did I have any business at all working on this instead of the next Kinktober prompt? NO 🙈 I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t stop thinking about this reader and Wriothesley, y’all are gonna need to forgive me for my lapse in judgment

⭐

You really had no idea why you were entertaining this. After everything he’d put you through the last time you’d met, Wriothesley certainly didn’t deserve even so much as a polite, cursory letter of correspondence back, let alone the right to actually occupy the same space as you, and yet … here you were, wearing a dress that was nice but not too nice, standing in front of a cafe that was neither overly fancy or overly pedestrian, but something in between. You’d been adamant about picking the venue and, to your surprise, he’d easily conceded that power over to you. Further testing the waters, you’d then put your foot down about getting to choose the time you would meet at and, even more confounding, he’d given in to that demand as well. 

It was all incredibly suspicious of him, to say the very least, and you’d very nearly backed out at the last minute for fear that it was some sort of nefarious trick but the ever growing pile of missives from the Duke of Meropide had stared at you accusingly from the desk in your room until you’d finally rushed out the door just to escape them. That you’d found yourself here, at the exact meeting spot and a few minutes early, was only a coincidence, surely. You didn���t actually want to see him after he’d humiliated and abused you so terribly, but since you were already at the cafe then perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stick around long enough to hear him out. Or so you tried to tell yourself, anyway. 

There was no denying your anxious nerves though, and you flutteringly smooth your hands over your front to iron out imaginary wrinkles that weren’t actually there. You probably should have worn something a bit more practical. Less dressy. If he got the wrong idea about you (as if he just as likely hadn’t already) and he assumed your goal today was to seduce him rather than talk about program options for inmates at the prison you were going to scream. Just really let him have it. He would have deserved it, honestly, given that less than stellar first time meeting, but the least he could do was - -

“There you are.” 

The voice is accompanied by the familiar press of a heavy palm along your waist, and you jerk back so hard you nearly give yourself whiplash. Wide eyed, you tip your head back, back, back to finally meet Wriothesley’s questioning eyes where they tower high above you. 

“Do not touch me!” You hiss, impulsively slapping his hand off you to make his brows lift in surprise. 

“Sorry I’m late?” He tries, which you would have been rather inclined to give him points for under better circumstances as none of the clocks in the vicinity had chimed the hour yet. It may not have been by much, but he wasn’t running behind despite his willingness to take the hit. 

But better circumstances would not have found you flushing profusely at just the sight of him and trying desperately to conceal it to no avail. And the spark ignited in you at the brief touch of his fingers was another matter entirely, but you make a concerted effort not to think about that as you offer up a prim little sniff. “Your tardiness is of no concern to me, your grace, but even you must know touching women inappropriately is highly frowned upon in Fontaine. I'm sure it must be easy to forget your manners when you spend so much time at the bottom of the ocean … so I’ll do my best to remind you. I trust I won’t have to call for the Gardes today?” 

You can’t quite keep the smug look off your face now, positively riding on the high of public immunity,  but it quickly fades when Wriothesley not only meets your challenging stare head on but he even allows the corner of his mouth to pull in an infuriatingly enigmatic smirk. “Not to worry, miss. I have every intention of behaving myself so long as my lovely companion in her pretty little dress does the same.” 

Giving an angry, impotent jerk when a fresh wave of fluster creeps up your neck to settle along your cheeks, you narrow your eyes up at him in warning. But he just shuffles close enough to truly loom over you now and it’s all you can do to keep your attention locked on his face instead of averting your gaze in a clear sign of defeat. You can’t quite seem to find your voice no matter how hard you attempt to locate it, though. 

Sedately bending down to your level, Wriothesley brings his face close to yours and lowers the tone of his voice when he speaks again. “I take it your last lesson is still fresh enough in your mind that you won’t need a refresher today? We certainly don’t want your nice clothes getting dirtied, do we …?” 

You choke on an incomprehensible flurry of things you wanted to say to him, but the double edged quality of your public immunity quickly makes itself apparent. Sure, he couldn’t — wouldn’t treat you as badly as he had behind the closed doors of his office when there were so many prying eyes all around you here, but that also meant you couldn’t kick up the same kind of fit or risk causing a major scene. You’d thought you were playing this smart by agreeing to meet him only on your terms but it clearly went both ways on this neutral playing field, and you have to make a concerted effort to calm yourself instead of taking the bait. 

“Indeed, your grace.” You relent as mildly toned as you can manage. “I will make every effort to remain cordial.”

“Excellent.” Nodding once, Wriothesley reaches out with a deliberate slowness — like he was dealing with a skittish cat — and your skin prickles defensively in response. But you still allow him to gently take your arm with nothing more than a twitch to show for it and that seems to please him a great deal, given the now amicable tone of his voice. “Let’s find a table and get started then. I’m sure there are a lot of things you want to talk about.” 

That was an understatement of the highest order given how many biting remarks were just at the tip of your tongue, waiting to be unleashed upon him. This was neither the time nor the place for it though, so you let him guide you around the side of the building to a quaint little patio where he proceeds to steer you straight into an unoccupied seat at the most secluded table in the far corner. It surprises you a great deal that he not only takes the time to pull your chair out but even slides it in behind you, and the fact your heart won’t stop hammering at the interior of your ribcage because of it just makes it all the more perplexing. 

Given his previous behavior Wriothesley was in absolutely no position to be acting like some kind of gentleman, and you were even less inclined to fall for it. 

Moving around to the adjacent chair, the duke claims his own seat across from you where he takes a moment to get comfortably situated before looking at you expectantly. “Alright. Where shall we begin?” 

You can’t help the suspicion that flashes across your mind. He was even willing to put the ball in your court like this? What exactly was he up to? 

“Well,” Speaking slowly, warily, you open the worn leather carry case you’d decorously sat on your lap and withdraw a hand-typed sheet of parchment paper. “I thought perhaps we could go over our other options, since you seem so sure my initial proposal won’t work. There should still be other rehabilitation methods available to us if you’ll just hear me out and - -“

His hand abruptly comes up, reaching across the table to accept the paper, and you just stare at those outstretched fingers like they were tightly coiled, hissing vipers. You couldn’t make sense of this. He actually wanted to see it? 

“May I?” Wriothesley prompts when you neither move nor speak, giving those blocky digits a little wriggle to further indicate what he wanted. Blinking owlishly, you mechanically hand the sheet off to him and watch as he reclines back in his chair to look it over. 

This really was just so … strange. His interest in what you’d had to say at your last meeting had been cursory at best and he’d summarily dismissed all the paperwork you’d brought with you after giving it nothing more than a brief glance. But now he seems to be taking his time with it, attentively scanning the page from top to bottom, and he even hums at occasional intervals as if in acknowledgement. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought it was an entirely different person sitting across from you now. 

“I see,” He says at length. “Some of these suggestions just aren’t viable with the way Meropide internally functions, but I think a few of them could easily be tweaked for implementation.” 

“… r - really?” 

Lowering the paper, Wriothesley once again fixes you with that largely impassive look that you just can’t quite get a good read on. “Sure. For example, I think there’s merit in giving the inmates an opportunity to develop new or existing skills that could be helpful in a potential reintegration process. It doesn’t force them to do anything or set an expectation, but it still gives them the option.” 

A long beat passes in numb silence and then you find yourself sitting up a little straighter, unable to keep the pleased smile off your face now even though you try very hard to keep it at bay. “Oh. Well. I’m glad you think so.” 

He catches you off guard with an unexpectedly genuine smile, the sapphires in his eyes dimly twinkling with what you think must be mischief. “Don’t get too excited yet. There’s still some ironing out to be done, but you did a good job taking what I said the last time and reframing it to better meet the needs of the inmates. I’m pleased to know our little chat served its purpose.” 

And just like that he’s got you huffing and puffing again, irritably digging into your bag so you wouldn’t have to look at that smug face of his any longer. He was beyond infuriating, easily the most contemptible man you’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, and yet … you just can’t seem to stop smiling. You were undeniably happy that he seemed to be taking you seriously this time and had even praised you for your efforts to revamp the proposal to better suit his liking. Even if he did insist on sneaking in those smarmy jabs every once in a while it couldn’t truly take away from what felt like a victory on your part. 

You spend the next two hours discussing everything with him over a seemingly never ending supply of tea and diminutive finger sandwiches he’d insisted on ordering for the two of you to share even when you’d likewise insisted you weren’t at all peckish. Wriothesley was very strange indeed and you weren’t sure if you would go so far as to call it chivalry, at least not in any polite sense, but he did seem to have a soft spot for his inmates. That warmed you to his presence slightly, helped you relax and find a common ground with him that made you feel much better about potentially working with him in the future. It seemed like as long as both of you stayed focused on the topic of lifestyle enrichment for the prisoners you could get along. 

But of course it was not meant to last, and the first real hiccup you run into is when he insists on paying for your half of the tab. You make a valiant effort not to cause a scene in front of the poor waiter who nervously shifts his eyes between you and the duke, but he doesn’t even have the grace to look at you when he shoots down your insistence that you could pay for yourself. Your temper starts to spike at the dismissive wave of his hand, and you give into the urge to glare at him across the table. 

“My lord, your generosity is appreciated but not needed. I assure you I won’t go bankrupt paying for my drink and the sandwiches I ate.” Not giving him a chance to respond, you jerk your attention up at the young man making a discrete effort to shuffle away from the table. “Please split the bill for us.”

“No, just one tab will do.” Wriothesley cuts in, sending you a slow look of warning that just leaves you bristling even more. “It would be remiss of me to make a young lady pay for the lunch I invited her to. I’m sure our young friend here would agree.” 

The waiter nods his head in agreement when the duke inclines his chin towards him and, much to your sinking dread, he promptly pivots as if to walk away. Impulsively, you lurch half out of your seat to snag his arm and stop him, surprising a yelp out of the poor boy. 

“Hold on a minute! Don’t I have a say in this? If I want to pay for it I should be able to or isn’t that — isn’t it just the same as misogyny or something?” 

The boy looks appropriately horrified. “O - oh?” 

“Miss,” Wriothesley intones sharply, and the edge in his voice immediately sends a violent shudder racing up your spine. It was a bit too similar to the way he’d talked to you back in his office for you to associate it with anything other than getting dragged over his knee and your cheeks burn furiously even as you clutch at the waiter's arm even more tightly. Thrumming with nerves, you turn your head to find him pinning you with a very unamused frown. “I suggest you let him go and sit back down. There’s no reason to make such a fuss over lunch. I’ll pay for it, and that’s the end of it.” 

You share a quick glance with the boy whose expression mirrors your own look of flustered uncertainty. “But - but I can pay for it - -“ 

“Sit down. Now.” 

Quickly doing just that, you neatly fold your hands in your lap with your eyes kept firmly downcast so you could avoid having to look at him. You weren’t even sure if you could meet his gaze at that moment when it felt like you were moments away from vibrating right through the very fabric of time and space if you quaked any harder but … but it was kind of hard not to be affected by it when only three weeks had gone by since the last time you’d gotten on his bad side. Your ass had only just finished recovering from its first encounter with his hand and you didn’t want to experience it again, if you could help it. 

Clearly relieved, the waiter beats a hasty retreat from the table and the two of you sit there in terse silence for a painfully long, drawn out moment in which your heart threatens to slam right out of your chest. Then, at length, Wriothesley finally draws a clipped breath. “I thought you said you were going to behave yourself.” 

You swallow. Hard. “And I thought you were going to respect me as an autonomous person this go around.”

A pregnant pause. “Is that what your problem is? You think I’m, what? Being a controlling chauvinist or something?” 

If your face were to get any hotter you probably could have fried an egg on it. “Is that not exactly how you’ve acted thus far, your grace? Gentlemen in polite society don’t usually treat women like children.” 

“Oh, I’d beg to differ.”

You snap your head up with a viscous look — but the waiter returns, giving you a cautiously wide breadth as he walks over to Wriothesley’s side to present him with the check. Those deep, deep blue eyes steadily regard you for another moment longer before finally dragging away from you to look at the bill. Left with no other choice you just sit there, stewing in your anger while he amicably apologizes to the young man and passes him a handful of mora plus a little extra which he tells him to keep for himself. The harangued lad is nothing but appreciative, and they exchange a few more words of thanks between them while your blood pressure just continues to climb and climb, and climb. 

You couldn’t believe him! To treat you as he had in the privacy of his office was one thing but this was something else entirely! The very last thing you’d wanted was to find yourself indebted to the Duke of Meropide in any capacity, least of all when your understanding with him was already so tentative and fragile. You’d thought you could work with him as long as you kept things professional and limited to the greater goal both of you clearly shared, but evidently that was not meant to be. Even after the horrible way he’d humiliated you the last time you’d still been willing to partner with him for the sake of a greater good and this was how he chose to reward your willingness to put aside the disrespect you’d already suffered at his hands once before? 

Why did he not understand how consistently infantilizing and insensitive his treatment towards you was? 

Right on the verge of erupting, you wait until he turns to look at you again once the waiter has scurried off with a final, nervous glance in your direction, and you pull yourself up to your full height with a stilted breath. “Thank you for your generous kindness today, your grace. I’m leaving.” 

His brows lift at your sudden proclamation, head tipping back slightly when you find your feet in a quick rush. “You’re serious?” 

“Very much so.” It takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to scream at him as you carelessly stuff your paperwork back inside your bag, barely stopping long enough to secure the latch in place before stomping away from the table. The scrape of his chair against the cobblestone is soon followed by the heavy thump of his boots catching up to you alarmingly fast. You don’t think he’s hurrying after you or anything, his legs are simply much too long for him to need to, but that doesn’t quite stop your skin from crawling with a sudden rush of goosebumps. You had to get away from him. 

Quickly, before he tried another stunt like the last time. 

“I’m not interested in hearing anything further, I’m afraid.” You call back, positively hating the way your voice warbles slightly when you pick up your pace. 

You were on the main road now and almost at a full blown sprint when a heavy hand abruptly snags your arm, pulling you back with a frightened squawk. Eyes wide and just a pinch more fearful than you would have liked, you jerk your attention up to look at him. 

“Just hold your horses,” He murmurs, gentle yet insistent in the way he tugs you around to stand in front of him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good read on you at this point so I understand why you’re acting like this, but I assure you it’s nothing to get so upset about. I didn’t pay for lunch because I don’t think you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself. I just did it because it was the right thing to do, and I wanted to do it. That’s all.” 

“Why?” You whisper, unable to find the strength to speak any louder than that when you were looking up at him like this. “Why did you feel so inclined even after I told you I didn’t want that? Is it because you’re a big, strong man and I’m just a weak woman you get to push around?” 

An odd look crosses his face, but you have no idea what to make of it. You can never seem to get a good grasp on his body language no matter how closely you study it. “That is not what I think at all, miss. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders but sometimes you really let your emotions get the better of you. And before you say it, no, I don’t mean it like that. If you were a man I’d say the exact same thing. You do realize how carried away you get, don’t you?” 

“Carried away?” You echo him, disbelief coloring your voice. “You - you are positively incorrigible, do you know that? I’m not sure where you get off acting like I don’t have perfectly good reason to be wary of you when you’ve done nothing but torture me with your presence every time we’ve met!” 

“Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not what I get off on.” 

Heat races up your neck to settle in your face, making you choke and sputter indignantly until you finally manage to find your voice again. “I think I have a pretty good idea what you like, and you should be ashamed of yourself!” You snap with an accompanying tug on your captured arm. “Let me go. I’ve had more than my fill of you for one day.” 

“No, I don’t think I will.” 

“Wha — unhand me this instant, you damned brute! Don’t make me call for the Gardes. I already told you I would and I wasn’t bluffing!” 

Easily holding you in place when you try to scuttle away, Wriothesley bends to bring his mouth close to your ear and the sudden, hot puff of breath against your skin instantly makes you freeze in place. “Unless you want me to give you a good swat right here in the middle of the street, I’d suggest you calm down.” 

You absolutely hate the way you shudder fiercely in his grasp, fighting back a whimper at the lingering spectral ache that tingles across your backside. You couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t afford to let him get the upper hand here, not now when you had the safety of public immunity on your side. You still had the advantage in this situation, even if it didn’t really feel like it. “You can’t do that … you’ll be arrested.” 

“Is that so?” He drawls, quite clearly unconcerned at the prospect, and you forcibly swallow the nerves threatening to choke you. 

“I’ll file a report …” 

“Perhaps you should.” 

Noising a breathless, frightened little animal sound, you shoot him a deeply frazzled look but his expression remains as impassive as ever. What the hell was he even thinking? “You’re not immune from the law.” You try again, quaking in his hold. “Neither your status nor your … nor your job description will give you impunity. You’ll have to stand before the honorary Iudex and explain yourself to him.” 

“Ah, well. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Ignoring your startled sound of confusion, Wriothesley straightens up again and gives your arm a gentle nudge. “Come. Before I take you home there’s something I need to tend to first.” 

“Wha —“ Reeling, you stumble and almost trip when he shifts into motion, dragging you along for the first few steps until you get your jelly filled legs under control and reluctantly fall in line with him. It’s not like you really had much choice in the matter. “Are you completely out of your mind? There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near my house! I can take care of myself just fine, your grace!” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But I’m not asking.” 

The noise that comes out of you sounds suspiciously like the whistle of a tea kettle moments before it reaches boiling point. You give your arm a fitful yank as discreetly as you can manage when you realize there are a few people staring over at the two of you with curious, somehow accusatory looks, but he won’t let you go and it quickly becomes apparent that, short of flinging yourself onto the ground like a fussy toddler, you were just going to have to go along with it. He was sorely mistaken if he thought you were going to lead him right to where you lived though, and nothing he said was going to change that. You’d sooner throw yourself into the vast waters of Fontaine without a life preserver before you ever even entertained the notion! 

And that is precisely how you hit the second hiccup of the day. 

Wriothesley guides you by the arm down the road, across a side street, up a short lane and then right into a cramped little alley that stops at a deadend on the far side. Your heart positively flatlines when you see it and you desperately try to dig your heels in to stop the forward motion as he pulls you straight towards it but there’s no stopping him. He’s too big, too strong, and all you can do is choke on a frightened little sound when he steps right up to the wall and then turns, expertly juggling your arm from the iron hold of one hand into the other. The static electricity that shoots through you at the first creeping suspicion of what he planned to do makes your skin prickle with a fresh wave of horror, and you immediately dance up on your toes as if to escape the swing of his palm. 

“Wait, wait, wait! You can’t do this. Not here. We’re in public! If someone sees — no, even if no one sees it isn’t that still a bit much? Don’t you think you’re taking this too far, your grace? I mean, I thought you said this wasn’t what gets you off, right?” You offer up a nervous, borderline hysterical laugh as if to ease some of the tension in the cramped alley. “Besides, didn’t you say you had something to tend to? An errand, isn’t it? You need to do something - something elsewhere, don’t you? If it’s groceries you need to pick up, I’d be happy to accompany you …” 

He silently regards you for a prolonged, incredibly nerve wracking moment before slowly leaning forward and you can’t quite stop the terrified squeak that bursts out of you when he grabs a much too tight, pinching handful of your backside. Blocky fingers dig into soft flesh hard enough to make you hiss and rock up in a blithe attempt to escape it but he just follows you with his hand, giving the meat of your behind a sharp jostle as he turns to press his mouth to your hair. 

“What I need to tend to is this bratty ass of yours. I’m not entirely sure why you act this way yet but we’ll get to the bottom of it soon enough. I’m going to give you some incentive now, and then take you home so I can finish teaching you how to behave and you’re going to stand there and take it like a big girl, aren’t you?” 

You sway unsteadily in his hold, thoughtlessly dropping your bag so you can lift your uncaptured arm to brace a numb hand against the wall. What were you even supposed to say to that? And never mind the fast pumping adrenaline of fear and remembered pain suddenly pumping through your system, why on earth were you starting to feel tingly all over as if … almost as if you were excited?

That couldn’t be, though. It couldn’t. 

There was simply no way he’d unlocked something so perverse and dangerously immoral in you the last time he decided to play this nasty game. You didn’t like it — gods, you barely even liked him! You didn’t, didn't, didn’t, didn’t - - 

“Little miss,” He abruptly intones, snapping you back to reality with a sharp, haggard gasp. “When I ask you a question I expect an answer.” 

“Y - yes, sir.” You blurt, dull surprise washing over you at your own obedience. What was happening to you? 

“That’s better, but what are you telling me ‘yes’ to?” 

You blink owlishly at the wall. Couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away from it, like you were in a trance. “I … I’ll stand here. Like a good girl.”

Drawing a slow, stilted breath, Wriothesley finally lets up on your ass in favor of rubbing over the fleshy swell through the now wrinkled back of your dress. His palm is broad and rough even through his fingerless gloves, and you sensitively shiver at the contact. “You know that means no screaming. No crying. No carrying on like a child, as if you haven’t earned a much needed correction for yourself carrying on the way you have. You wouldn’t want someone to come running just to find you getting your butt spanked, would you?”

“… no, sir.” 

“Good.” His hand abruptly retreats only to come cracking back down with a blinding swat! and you jerk forward at the impact, sputtering on a half realized shriek. “Today we’ll be working on your ability to accept what you're given and show gratitude for it. I want you to thank me this time instead of counting, is that understood?” 

Still wincing at the lingering sting of that first hit, you draw a slow, shuddering breath and lean your forehead against the wall. You couldn’t believe this was really happening again any more than you could believe your willing compliance on the matter. Surely there had to be something very wrong with you to be acting this way.  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” 

Swat! 

“Eek! Thank you, sir …” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, giving your arm a brief tug to pull you closer to his side as he shifts to truly loom over you now. You whimper when you feel his hand cock back, preparing for the next swing, but it doesn’t immediately come. Instead, his mild tone drifts over you again like a warm, prickling mist. “Spread your legs a little bit for me and lean into the wall. Come on. I know it’s hard to do right now but it’ll be much easier on you this way. I’ve got you … that’s it. Just like that. You’re already being so good for me now.” A sudden snort of laughter from him makes you twitch. “I had a feeling this was exactly what you’d need as soon as you walked into my office. Glad to see I was right about that.” 

Screwing your eyes shut against that soft praise, you anxiously shudder and squirm in place when every single nerve ending in your body seems to vibrate with the lingering anticipation of when the next hit would come. What a tortuous feeling. You didn’t like it, you didn’t. 

“Thank you, sir …” 

Swat! 

You groan at not only the burning sting but also the way your ass jiggles from the force of the hit, somehow humiliating you even further and driving the hurt home. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out why he’d wanted you to bend forward. The crease of your sit spot already felt like it was on fire from just that one slap and he hadn’t been able to strike it when you were holding yourself straight and stiff as a board. Now, though, he’s free to pepper the tender area with quick, rapid fire strikes to leave you trembling against the wall, gasping each time his hand makes contact. 

“Ow! Thank you, sir … eek! Ooh - oh! Nnghnn, thank you, sir! Nghn! T - thank you, sir …” 

“Excellent. You’ve really taken to this like a duck to water, haven’t you?” He drawls, still bringing his palm down across your shuddering ass again and again, and again. Completely at ease and frustratingly collected about the whole thing, as if this wasn’t even affecting him at all. “Tell me, little miss. Have you received many spankings before?” 

“N - no, sir … ahhn! Thank you, sir! Yeow! Ow, ow, ow, thank you, sir!” 

Wriothesley hums in consideration, barely heard over the intense pounding in your ears. “That’s interesting. I didn’t think so, of course, but,” Swat! “It’s still of a certain interest to me. You’re surprisingly obedient for someone with so much attitude.” Swat! “You wouldn’t happen to be enjoying this, would you?” 

You go ramrod stiff, eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, but then the next slap comes and you lurch with a wounded grunt. Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton now as you ever so slowly turn your head against the wall to look in the opposite direction so he couldn’t see your face. You weren’t exactly sure what kind of expression you were making when you felt so hot and flustered, and jittery, but you were certain you’d wither away to nothing if he looked directly at you right now. 

“O - of course not, don’t be ridiculous! I hate it almost as much as I hate you!” 

Wriothesley barks out a sudden laugh. “Is that so? You know there’s a way to check, don’t you?” 

Stiffening, you go so utterly still you think you’ve forgotten how to breathe. In fact, you’re certain you have, given the way your heart sputters and skips a harrowing series of beats. It makes your lungs constrict painfully tight and, at last, when you start to grow dizzy, you force yourself to draw a thick, suffocating inhale. He couldn’t be serious … 

“What are you talking about?” He couldn't be serious …

“I’m sure I don’t have to explain it to you.” He couldn’t be serious … “Shall I check?” He couldn’t be serious … “But I hope you know if I find out you’re lying you’ll be in even more trouble.” He couldn’t be serious …

He could not be serious! 

His calloused fingers slipping under the back of your dress snap you out of your horrified trance with all the lurching force of a sack of bricks and you gasp — no, you heave so hard it feels like your soul is slipping right out of your throat. You jerk upright so suddenly and so fast you actually stumble and start to collapse in a tangle of noodly legs but the hand gripping your arm just bodily hauls you back up again to shove you flush against the wall. You think you would have screamed at that very moment, damn the consequences, but you can’t quite seem to pull enough oxygen into your lungs to accomplish it. All you can do is blubber hysterically as he pins you flat by pressing into the back of your shoulder, applying enough force to bring you up on your tip toes, while his other hand indelicately bullies its way up between your legs to cup your pussy through the thin layer of your panties. 

You jolt at the contact and go still again, panting excessively for as short as that brief struggle had lasted, and Wriothesley noises a quiet sound before carefully curling his fingers back. The blunt tips of them press into you, stiltedly rubbing over the lips of your cunt with slow, indescribably heavy passes that make you tremble wildly. You can’t quite seem to get a hold on it no matter how hard you try to stop it though, your teeth clenching tight enough to hurt when he twists his hand so he can slip those long digits into the leg hole of your underwear. A flood of tears pricks at your eyes when he finds your slit again and starts to press in, but he doesn’t have to go very far before finding sticky slick waiting for him. 

“I knew it.” He announces without much aplomb or intonation to clue you in on his thoughts. Archons, what an insufferable man. 

“Are you satisfied?” You practically spit, as furious with him as you were with yourself. 

“Quite. And you? Are you satisfied?” His tone drops an octave lower to accompany the slow, teasing glide of his fingers through your cunt, tracing from the back up to the front while pointedly avoiding any real pleasure inducing spots along the way. It makes you quietly seethe and hiss, straining against the hand keeping you against the wall, but it’s no use. He’s got you trapped. 

“What do I possibly have to be satisfied about?” 

“Well, you’ve earned yourself another paddling, for starters.” 

Your entire body seizes at that and, noising an incoherent blubber, you finally twist your head back around to look up at him with big, wet eyes. “W - wait, you don’t mean that - -“ 

“I do. I’m very sincere, in fact. Not only have you lied to me but you even continued to lie after I gave you a chance to make a better decision. You have to know that’s not acceptable, don’t you?” 

Blatant confusion marches across your face and then camps there, drawing your mouth into a warbling frown. Seeing this, Wriothesley allows his own to curl in a small, taunting little smirk that just sets every single alarm bell in your head off all at once. Whatever he was about to say, you weren’t going to like it … 

“You didn’t really think I had no idea, did you? Come on. I had you spread you out over my lap without anything covering this cute pussy of yours. Just because I was mainly focused on your ass, that doesn’t mean I was oblivious to everything else going on at the time.” 

Try as you might, you just couldn’t make any sense of it. “But … but - -“

“But?”

You swallow. Very, very hard. “But … but you — you didn’t say anything?” 

“Was I supposed to?” 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it! I swear, you are absolutely, positively, irredeemably - -“

“Yes, yes, you hate me. I’m sure we’ve already covered that.” Breathing out a stiff sigh, Wriothesley finally relents and withdraws his fingers from your cunt. You can’t quite manage to bite back the whimper that rises in your throat at the loss, but he pays it little mind and instead busies himself with casually gathering up the back of your dress. “If you want the truth of it, I very strongly considered acting on it then too. I thought about it a lot, actually, but then I regretted not doing anything besides rubbing cream on your sore bottom and sending you on your way. Why do you think I mailed off that first letter to you the very next day? And the one after that when you didn’t respond, and the one after that?” 

“You - you were hoping for this to happen?” You squeak, trying in vain to twist away when he hikes your skirt up around your waist and cool air wafts against the hot burn throbbing across your ass. 

Whimpering, you try to reach back with your free hand to yank it back down or at least cover yourself from anyone that might be walking past the open lip of the alley in the seemingly far distance, but you don’t quite make it that far. Suddenly releasing his hold on your shoulder, Wriothesley quickly snakes it around your middle and locks your arm to your side in the process, too fast for you to properly react. A flood of protests erupt from your mouth as he tucks you in tight against him so he can hold you in place just like that no matter how hard you squirm. He then takes his time casually juggling the bulk of your dress into his other hand before reaching back down to grasp your panties which he slowly pulls up on to make the fabric ride up and press into you. Potent, swimming embarrassment makes you feel dizzy with it while he nudges the cotton until the swell of both cheeks slips out from the bottom to leave you vulnerable and exposed. The skin feels hot and splintery against the air, and you grimace when he smooths his palm over it to really rub it in. 

“I wouldn’t say I was hoping for this specific situation to happen,” He drawls in that perpetually unapologetic tone of his. “But I did want to see you again, yes. I’d thought I might try to woo you and make up for how our first meeting went in the process but you’re certainly a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Not that I’m disappointed, mind you. This suits me just as well too.” 

You waver at that, whimpering softly at the implication. “Is that the only reason, your grace?” 

Pausing, Wriothesley just lets his massive hand rest across your ass for a long moment while you try to blink back the sudden onslaught of tears making your eyes turn misty. At length, he draws a carefully controlled breath. “No. That’s not the only reason. We can talk about it more in depth later but … I really would like a chance to woo you, if you’d be kind enough to let me.” 

You very nearly burst out in hysterical laughter at that. What an absurd thing to say when he had you pinned and immobile against his side, the back of your dress crudely hiked around your waist and your underwear meanly pulled up to expose your red bottom to all of Fontaine. It was ludicrous and insane, and unthinkable, and preposterous, and — and - - 

He didn’t really mean that … did he? 

An abrupt, halfhearted swat to the meat of your ass startles you back to reality with a soft yelp. “Don’t go drifting off on me now, little miss. You still need to show me you know how to give appreciation for the things I give you. I didn’t forget that last one.” 

Your cheeks burn somehow even hotter at that reminder. You had indeed let it slip your mind and you were quite tempted to tell him exactly where he could shove his thanks but you were a bit too caught up in the pitter patter skipping across your chest to truly fight it. His methods were the very definition of crazy but you couldn’t exactly deny that they were working. Damn him. 

Breathing deep to calm yourself, you let it out with a slow, shuddering exhale. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t forget again.”

Wriothesley presses his mouth to your hair and murmurs a quiet, “good girl” that makes you go cross eyed from how intensely you shake because of it. You feel the shift of his arm but you don’t even have the presence of mind to ask him to wait. 

Swat! Right across the bare strip of your ass. 

“Nnghn! T - thank you, sir!” Swat! “Thank you, sir! Oh - oooh, nnghah! Thank you, sir!” Swat! “Hahhn! Ahh! Thank you, sir … nghn! Thank you, sir …” Swat! 

Wheezing, you hang limply in his ironclad hold now, only having the strength left to jerk at the impact of his hand and twitch from time to time as the prickling heat gradually spreads and strengthens over your defenseless backside. Same as the last time, Wriothesley falls into an easy, steady rhythm that alternates between both cheeks, pausing only long enough for you to speak and then immediately cracking down on the opposite side. It doesn’t take long for your bottom to start throbbing in hot, attention grabbing pulses that make you feel woozy with whatever trance comes over you whenever he strikes you like this. You don’t understand it — aren’t even really sure if you wanted to understand it at this point — but the Duke of Meropide is true to his word, and he maintains his unfaltering hold on you even when your legs slowly turn into limp, shuddering noodles under you. 

Over and over, and over again, he spanks you until the world seems to spin around you at a nauseating pace, but your voice keeps you grounded and present in the moment. You couldn’t escape the blistering sting of his hand in any capacity, not mentally and certainly not physically, so the only thing you can do is simply accept it. Not just the punishing bite of his palm striking the same tender spot repeatedly but him, specifically, too. The greater point of this lesson was not lost on you but you did almost wish it could have been accomplished a different way. Perhaps if you weren’t always so stubborn …

“Ohh! T - thank you, sir!” You seethe, squirming against the mind numbing sting, but the next strike doesn’t come though. So lost under the intoxicating medley of endorphins and adrenaline, you actually start to wonder if you’d actually thanked him out loud or if you’d only done so in your head. Panting raggedly, you swallow down a mouthful of air and then try again. “Thank you, sir …” 

“Don’t worry, I heard you the first time.” He murmurs, the note of humor in his voice inspiring a fresh shudder in your aching body when he gives your hip an approving pat. “You did well, little miss. No screaming, no crying … how’s your bottom feel?” 

Rather cruelly, Wriothesley drags his palm over the throbbing swell of your ass, and you tense up in his hold with a sharp hiss. “It feels wonderful, sir.” 

He actually laughs at that — a real, genuine laugh that leaves you reeling and so surprised you can only blink in wide eyed disbelief as he carefully untangles himself from you so he can get you settled on your feet again. “That’s what I like to hear. You’re never going to lose that sharp tongue, are you?” He looks at you steadily, big hands cradling your hips to give you another moment longer to recover without needing to worry about falling over, and you just look back at him in perplexed silence. 

Slowly bringing your arm up, you wipe at the evidence of tears on your hot face, and maybe just a tiny little bit of snot too. You would be glad for a wet rag when you got home. “I'm afraid not.” 

“Good. I like a girl with sass.” His smile edges into sly mischief territory, pinning you with a clear look of challenge. “I’ll never run out of excuses to keep punishing you so long as you keep that up.” 

Sniffing primly, as if you hadn’t just gotten your ass beat, you offer him a flat, unamused scowl. “Yes, well, I really wish you hadn’t pulled on my underwear like that. So unnecessary.” With a click of your tongue, you start to reach back with every intention of tugging them back down into place, but he reaches out to snag your arm before you can follow through. 

“No, leave it.” 

You sputter indignantly. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I said leave it like that. It’ll give you something to think about on the way home every time your dress brushes against your sore bottom, and keep you in suspense for the second part of your punishment.” 

“… you were serious?” 

“Terribly.” 

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

You could not believe you were doing this. 

You absolutely, positively could not believe you were doing this! 

Stealing a quick, surreptitious glance over your shoulder, you find Wriothesley right where you left him just a second ago. Standing at the foot of the stairs that lead into your small, cramped little flat in the city, one hand holding your leather bag at his side and the other expectantly braced on his hip while he patiently waited for you to get it into gear and unlock the door. A fresh rush of nervous anxiety crashes into you all at once, and you whip back around to fiddle with the key some more. 

Dear archons above, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this! 

Not only had you blithely accepted your fate and taken him straight to your home like a good, obedient pet, but you’d even been naive enough to find yourself somewhat excited to have him there on the way over. Even the constant throbbing that encompassed your poor bottom was not enough to distract from the eager pitter patter you’d felt in your chest but now that it was really happening and the full weight of the situation was bearing down upon you, you were suddenly consumed by a smothering sense of fear. What exactly was he going to do to you once he got you inside? Was he really planning on spanking you some more? Paddling you? What if he expected you to have sex with him after that brief exchange back in the alley? 

Oh, bless the seven, what kind of horrible mistake had you made? 

“Do you need any help?” He calls behind you, almost startling you enough to make you drop your key. 

“No, no! Everything’s under control! Nothing to be concerned about!” You titter nervously and fumble to get the key inserted into the lock but your shaking hands keep missing and it felt like you were right on the brink of a full blown panic attack. Far be it that you were in any position to actually understand anything about this contemptible man but you were really going to have to make an effort to figure out what exactly it was that came over you every time you crossed paths with him, because now that it was faded to a mere afterthought you were a jittery mess. 

It was almost like … almost like he was drugging you, the effects so calming and soothing that your mind couldnt help but recede to a narrow pinpoint that consisted entirely of Wriothesley, his hands on you and the pain making your body sing. But he’d never had a chance to slip you anything. You’d declined having any tea in his office, and you hadn’t left your drink alone even once back at the cafe. So then what the hell was it? 

He’s suddenly leaning over you, beefy chest brushing against your shoulder, and you jolt so hard you really do drop your key this time. “Eek! What are you doing?” 

Sending you a slow, mild look of questioning, Wriothesley sedately bends down to retrieve it from your feet and then straightens back up to his full, towering height again. “I’m helping you. Relax. You’re going to pop a blood vessel one day, getting yourself so worked up.” 

Ignoring your indignant sputtering, he reaches around you to soundly insert the key into the lock on the first try, giving it a good turn to make the inner mechanism give way. He turns back to you with a vaguely pleased smile and you narrow your eyes at him in warning, holding out your hand to accept the key which he deposits neatly into your palm. You close your fist around it as he gestures you in first and, nose in the air, you huff your way inside with as much dignity as you can muster. 

The sound of his heavy boots thumping after you and the subsequent swing, click and turning lock of the door quickly sobers you though, and you fretfully glance around the main room. You weren’t exactly slovenly but it would have been nice to have some warning that he would be coming over beforehand so you could have cleaned. Your morning coffee cup was still sitting out on the table and - - 

“Nice place.” 

You subtly twitch at the sound of his voice. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you’re used to, your grace.” 

Noising a noncommittal sound, Wriothesley wanders further into the flat, depositing your bag onto the table when he passes by it and then he pauses at the threshold of the small kitchen where he turns to look back at you. “May I?” 

“Knock yourself out.” You murmur, crossing your arms somewhat defensively. He ducks his head in a brief nod and then promptly disappears into the next room where you can hear him walking around what sounds like the whole perimeter. Brow quirked, you curiously trail after him only to find the Duke of Meropide himself inspecting the contents of your icebox. “Are you looking for something?” 

“I wanted to see if you had something that could be used as a substitute salve for your bottom. Cryo slime condensate and some mint should work well enough in a pinch, but …” 

He trails off in thought and you can’t quite help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Didn’t come prepared then, I take it?” 

He closes the lid on the icebox and sends you a meaningful look across the room. “Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake again.” 

This time you do laugh. “Awfully presumptuous of you to assume there will even be a next time, don’t you think?” 

Wriothesley hums a sound that could mean any number of things or nothing at all, giving the kitchen a final look over before breezing right past you back out into the main room. Bewildered, you quickly trail after him hot on his heel. 

“I mean, just look at the situation! Don’t you think this is all a little odd from my perspective? You said you wanted to woo me but you’ve certainly done a banger job of that so far and more to the point — wait!” 

You scramble forward, hands desperately reaching out to grab him when you realize he’s turning straight into the bathroom, but you’re a fraction of a second too late. Rounding the doorway with your heart lodged in your throat, you come face to face with a scene straight from your worst nightmares. A handful of your brassieres, some plain and cotton, others lacy and ruffled, hanging out to dry over the clawfoot tub, right out in the open. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of the panties hanging from the dainty drying rack right next to them!

“You fiend! Don’t look!” You scramble to get around him so you can reach up and frantically wrench a handful of your unmentionables loose, clutching them protectively to your chest, but the sound of his laughter gives you pause. You can practically feel steam coming out of your ears as you turn your head to glare daggers at him, knowing he would’ve dropped dead on the spot if only looks could kill. 

“Cute.” Is all he says before turning on his heel and strolling right back out, leaving you standing there in your gaping confusion. 

“What the — hey! Wait a second!” 

Very nearly tripping over your own feet, you lurch after him but this, too, is much too late to stop. You watch him swing your bedroom door open like he owned the place, disappearing inside without a second thought, and you come dashing in behind him just a second later. 

Quickly inserting yourself between him and the rest of the room, you furiously throw your lingerie down on the floor and put your hands on your hips. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” You demand, breathing a little heavier than you would’ve liked. “You’re a guest here, not the damned landlord! You can’t just waltz in here and start showing yourself around! What are you even looking for? I don’t have anything of worth if you’re thinking about trying to rob me!” 

A bemused look settles across his face, sapphire eyes dancing with obvious mirth. “You know better than that.” 

“At this point I’m not so sure anymore, your grace … somehow every time we meet I just find myself caught up in a whirlwind and I can’t make any sense of it. I don’t understand you.” 

The last part is barely more than a whisper but his expression softens again, in as much as it ever does. With a deliberate slowness, like he was dealing with a terribly skittish animal, Wriothesley carefully steps closer and brings his arms up as if to pull you in against him. You twitch, instinctively tensing up, but you grudgingly allow him to gather you up against the firm wall of his body. It reminds you of the last time in his office and your mildly sore behind gives a muted throb at the lingering memory even as you breathe out a terse breath. Slowly, you start to relax against him. He certainly did smell nice … 

“Forgive my poor manners. I did not mean to invade your privacy, little miss.” He tells you softly, matching the quiet intimacy of the bedroom and pulling you further under his damnable spell. “I only wanted to see how you lived so I could better understand you. You’re not the easiest person to get a read on either, you know.” 

You want to prickle defensively at that — know you should — but you can’t quite seem to find the strength to be upset anymore. Hesitantly, you bring your hands up to clutch at his waistcoat with hands that feel incredibly small against him. Dainty, even. “Did you mean it?” 

“Hm?” His burly arms give you a lingering squeeze, one of his hands stiltedly rubbing over your back, and it makes you shudder against him. 

“What you said earlier … about wanting to woo me?” 

“Ah. You’re still thinking about that.” Chuckling quietly, Wriothesley shifts against you and you feel him tip his head back, speaking up at the ceiling now. “I did. I may be a no good scoundrel and a brute, but I wouldn’t tell you something like that if I didn’t mean it. I think you’re a lovely young lady, even if you are a pushy, hardheaded brat half the time. A pretty face and the smarts to match … a cute butt,” His hand slides lower, curling over the swell of your bottom to give it a taunting pinch, making you whimper at the reignited ache in the skin. “And a cute pussy, too. You’re the whole package as far as I can tell. Though, I do suppose we’ve done things a bit out of order, haven’t we?” 

You shake your head, face buried in the lower half of his thick chest. “You are certainly a scoundrel, you’re right about that.” 

Dragging his hand back up, Wriothesley takes your hips and starts to gently nudge you back. “Come, let’s sit.” 

You almost fall for it, so caught up in the hazy shroud that seems to befall you every single time he touches you, but then you abruptly remember what’s behind you. The bed. The one and only chair in the bedroom was in front of the desk, on the opposite wall. Your heart instantly slams into overdrive and you jerk back in his hold with a ragged gasp, hands coming up to shove at him. “No!” 

To your great relief he actually stops at the near hysterical edge in your voice, giving you a funny look even as he cautiously releases his hold on you so he can lift his arms in surrender. “I’m sorry. Just calm down. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

You would’ve liked to breathe out a sigh, glad that he was, for whatever reason, taking you seriously now, but you were a bit too jittery with nerves to draw a full breath for that. Instead, you just offer up a tittering laugh and try to wave it off. “Of course nothings wrong. It’s fine. Really. I just don’t want to sit right now, that’s all. Still so many things to do!” 

It feels like your face is on fire as you quickly duck around him to make a beeline for the door so you can get out of here and put some much needed space between the two of you, but Wriothesley stops you with a gentle yet firm hand on your elbow. Whimpering softly, you make a valiant attempt to twist out of his hold but as usual his grip on you is as good as iron and you soon find yourself pulled right back around to face him. 

“That was a rather big reaction for it being nothing. I’m sure I could figure it out for myself in due time, but I’d greatly appreciate you being honest with me now so I don’t make the same mistake again going forward.”

“It’s nothing …” 

Wriothesley outright scoffs at that. “Pardon my language, little miss, but that’s bullshit. I’ve never heard you sound like that before, not even when I took that brush to your behind in my office. If I thought you were simply being dramatic or acting up I wouldn’t humor it but that’s not what’s going on here … is it?”

You don’t immediately answer, not quite sure what to say or how to say it, and at length he draws an infinitely patient breath. 

“I could probably guess,” He says almost thoughtfully, like he already had a sneaking suspicion. “Is it the bed? Are you scared of being in here alone with me?” 

Keeping your eyes downcast and firmly locked on the toes of your shoes, you give a slow nod in response. Archons, was he actually going to make you say it out loud  … 

“I don’t understand why, though. I’ve had plenty of chances to force myself on you if that was what I planned to do.” 

“I’m a virgin.” 

A visible startle dances down his arm. You screw your eyes shut, not quite sure what you expected him to say or do with that information and, for a horribly long beat, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with it either. The long stretch of silence that follows your admittance is static charged and heavy. Cloyingly thick. Suffocating — though that very well could have just been from where your lungs were constricting painfully tight, braced for the pin to drop. You almost wished you were just being dramatic or bratty, and the thought of being stretched out underneath his massive body didn’t scare you quite so much. 

Finally, eventually, Wriothesley looses a slow puff of air. “Thank you for telling me. Although I do wish you’d said something sooner, before I … well, it doesn’t matter, I suppose. All I did was touch you back in that alley, but I hope you realize how risky that could have been.” 

“I’m sorry, sir …” It’s all you can think to say. 

With a mild click of his tongue, he gently tugs you into him again, and this time you can’t stamp down the urge to fling your hands up and cling to him. “There isn’t anything for you to apologize to me for.” He murmurs, comfortingly rubbing across your back while the other hand slides up to cradle the curve of your skull. “Luckily I’m not actually that much of a brute and I’m capable of controlling myself. I won’t deny that I strongly considered sliding my fingers inside you back there but I decided to wait until we got to your place because …” 

He trails off, sounding ever so slightly ruffled, and you shift against him in your surprise. “Because why?” 

“Because I wasn’t sure if you were going to be a screamer or not.” 

Your stomach gives a sudden lurch at the implication and you nuzzle your face deeper into his body, whimpering softly at the way your pussy flutters in unmistakable interest. You were undoubtedly curious, keen even, but … despite its potency that eager gushing excitement wasn’t quite enough to dispel your concerns on the matter. He was just so big, you could only imagine whatever was hiding in his pants must be rather large too. Never mind the fact you’d only just met the guy not that long ago, how were you supposed to rationalize the size difference here? 

You’re still trying to work that out in your cotton stuffed mind when, eventually, Wriothesley gives you a final, reassuring pat and then carefully moves to extricate you from himself. “Alright. Come with me. Let’s talk in the other room then. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want.” 

Unable to stop it, you shoot him a sharp, unamused look but he just gives you that small, secretive smile as he guides you through the door which he reaches back to close behind himself with a soft click of finality. You were loath to admit it but you did feel marginally better having the bed closed off away from the both of you. It seemed less dangerous, somehow. 

“Nothing like that.” He amends, steering you over to the table in the main room where he tugs out a chair and drops himself into it. Much to your squawking surprise, however, he then half lifts, half pulls you on top of him to sit on his thigh and you waver nervously on your perch. You weren’t used to being manhandled in such a way — or any way, for that matter — but he steadies you with a firm hand, taking a moment to make sure you’re situated comfortably before leveling you with an unexpectedly sincere look. “Let’s make a deal. We’ll continue on as we have been, and nothing changes. I’d still like to work with you on your proposals for the inmates, because I think you have a good head on your shoulders and your heart is generally in the right place, even if it is at times a bit misguided. I’d also like to keep seeing you, if you’ll permit it. I won’t force myself on you and we’ll take it at your pace, whatever you’re comfortable with. You just need to be honest with me about these things, and I think we’ll do just fine.” 

Slowly, your gaze starts to wander in thought, but Wriothesley reaches up to take your chin and turn you back to look at him again. 

“I’m serious, little miss. You can still be a brat and talk back to me all you want, and I’ll just keep putting you in your place. I can correct you as many times as you need me to. But you have to be upfront about this. I’m not a mind reader, and I can’t know what you’re feeling unless you tell me. Do you understand?” 

You search his face for a moment, admittedly taken aback by the weight in his gaze. It was … a lot. But Wriothesley, as a person, was also a lot. You couldn’t read him, didn’t understand him, could barely stand to be in the same room as him, so … why then did you suddenly want him to kiss you so badly? Surely it was just that muddied, intoxicating daze that fell over you every time he touched you influencing your judgment, right? 

Right? 

“Yes, your grace. I understand.” 

He relaxes somewhat, some of the tension draining from his broad shoulders as he gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “Excellent. Are you ready for the rest of your lesson now?” 

Sending him a wary look, you decide to test the waters some. You were always good at that. “What if I tell you I’m not comfortable having you spank me like a child every time the thought strikes your fancy?” 

“Then I’d tell you that’s too bad. I’ve already seen for myself just how quickly you get yourself in order with the right incentive, and I’m also well aware that you secretly like it. More importantly, however, I know you need it. You felt good after the last time, didn’t you?” 

You scoff at that and turn on his lap to affix your gaze to literally anything other than him. “I wouldn’t describe barely being able to sit down on the aquabus just to get back to the city as feeling good. I was miserable for days!” 

“You deserved it.” He teases you, his tone taking on a playful edge as he brings his hand up to capture your chin again. You fight it though, twisting on his thigh and leaning as far back as you can manage without falling right off, but Wriothesley is persistent and he just follows after you, easily brushing off the smack of your hand when you try to slap him away. Finally, he manages to successfully get those long fingers around your jaw and he pulls you close until your nose comes to a stop just a scant few millimeters from his. “Come on, just look at me for a moment. Rather than physically, how did you feel mentally? Refreshed, right? Like you’d been flushed clean and filled back up again. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say like you’d been disassembled and then put back together.” 

“That’s not an inaccurate way to put it …” You relent at last, though not without a fussy huff. “But I still don’t know if I’d call that feeling good, your grace. I don’t … I’m not sure what I felt or why I liked it but —“ Abruptly choking on what you’re saying, you look into the steady blue of his eyes with yours wide and round as deeply felt embarrassment creeps into your face. Why in the world did you say that? “W - will you kiss me, my lord?” 

“Hmm. Do you want a kiss before or after your spanking?” 

“That’s not - -“ 

“I am not so easily distracted, little miss. You would do well to remember that.” Softly, Wriothesley soothes the blunt, calloused pad of his thumb over your cheek, still just looking at you. Still waiting on an answer. “Shall I make the decision for you?” 

Eyes flashing dangerously, you rear back to escape his hold and, surprisingly, he lets you go. Emboldened, you primly find your feet and he lets you do that too. You feel strangely victorious as you half turn away from him, hating the jittery, almost eager excitement that starts to course through you now. How shameful to react in such a way when you knew what was going to happen to you and there would be no escaping it. Had you always been such a masochist? 

“Perhaps I no longer want a kiss from his grace if that is how he’s going to be about it. I’ll accept my punishment but you needn’t worry yourself with silly things like kisses or hugs, or anything of the sort.” 

Snorting a quiet laugh, Wriothesley leans back in the chair with a soft creak. “Alright. Go get me one of your hairbrushes.” You give a little jerk and whip your head around to outright gape at him, but he just pins you with that usual smile. “A sturdy one. Nothing flimsy, or I’ll add twenty more on top of what you’re already getting.” 

You open your mouth to protest, think better of it and slowly press your lips into a thin line instead. Hands clenching into tight fists at your sides, you storm off to the bathroom where you dig around inside the cupboard for a prolonged moment before eventually locating a broad backed wooden brush you no longer used which looked relatively similar to the one he’d had in his office. With your heart in your throat, you take it back to him and he accepts it with a small murmur of thanks. 

“Anything else, your grace?” 

“I’m glad you asked, actually.” He pauses to set the brush aside on the table and then looks at you again. “Take off your panties, please.” 

Your brows shoot up in stark surprise, making him chuckle. 

“Relax. I have no intention of doing anything untoward with you. I just want to see if you’ll willingly take them off and crawl across my lap or if I’ll have to drag you again. It’s hard, isn’t it? Knowing what’s coming but still putting yourself in that position anyway. I wonder how wet you’re getting just thinking about it.” 

“Y - you just said - -“

“I said I wouldn’t do anything untoward. Not that I wouldn’t tease you a little bit.” 

The sly, mischievous twinkle in his eye irritates you a great deal, and you shyly avert your gaze elsewhere as you hesitantly reach under your dress. “You are a terror!” 

“I’m sure your ass will be in agreement with that soon enough.” 

Groaning very softly, you hook your fingers into the waistband of your panties and carefully shimmy them down your legs so you can step out. Wriothesley watches attentively as you straighten up again, anxiously holding the balled up cotton to your chest even as you not so subtly rub your thighs together. You were indeed wet, you were more than a little horrified to realize. But he already knew that from earlier, or so you try to tell yourself, and you hesitate for only a moment when he expectantly holds out a hand to you. Shuffling over, you try very hard to ignore the way your heartbeat threatens to choke you as you carefully reach out to place your palm in his. Wriothesley pulls you even closer until your knee brushes his thigh and he reaches up to gently pluck your wadded up underwear from your slack fingers. He watches your face while he does it but you aren’t sure what he sees looking back at him when you were feeling so many surging emotions all at once, and he just carelessly tosses them on top of the table, not far from the brush. 

“Lay down for me?” 

You give a tight lipped nod but you don’t move. Can’t move. You just stand there for a long, drawn out beat with your hand clasped in his, trying to will your legs to move, but it’s like you’re rooted to the spot. Gradually, your eyes start to widen. Were you paralyzed with fear or … something else? 

Shifting forward in his seat slightly, Wriothesley tips his head to look at your downturned face. “Do you want some help?” 

“No!” You rush to say, jerking your head in a quick shake. “That’s quite alright, your grace. Just, ah …”

“I told you it was hard. Knowing what you’re submitting yourself to can really impact your mental state going into a spanking, which is precisely why I wanted to see how you’d react. Though, if you want my personal opinion,” He draws a brief, stilted breath. “I don’t think you’re quite as strong as you like to believe yourself to be, and I don’t say that disparagingly. There’s nothing wrong with needing help from time to time. If you ask me, I’ll give it to you.” 

Softly, you start to shake. Your first instinct was, of course, to snap at him and put on a brave face, and impulsively throw yourself across his lap just to show him, to spite him. But you were feeling a little too vulnerable after everything that had happened today — and a lot had certainly happened between you and him. You’d reached some sort of tentative understanding though, hadn’t you? Had even admitted to something deeply personal and intimate (a few something’s, if you were being honest) and he’d met you with sincerity and honesty of his own so … 

Maybe it really was okay to be vulnerable with him? 

“I —“ You choke on that one single word and have to swallow before trying again. “I’m scared, your grace. I want to do it but I can’t bring myself to … and I don't know why. It’s silly, isn’t it?” 

Your voice cracks on the last word, something in you shattering when Wriothesley dutifully reaches out to take gentle hold of your hip. The first tears streak down your cheeks as he positions you between the wide spread of his legs so he can gather up the front of your dress while you mewl and swipe at your face. You don’t know what’s suddenly come over you but everything abruptly comes rushing out in a flood that leaves you shuddering in front of him. 

Satisfied that he had enough of the material gathered up to prevent it from getting caught under you now, he brings the other hand up to grab your waist. Under his steady guidance, you find yourself stiffly bending forward to lay across his thigh, vibrating at an ever increasing frequency when he tugs you more firmly into place to nudge your butt into the air. 

“Are you comfortable like that, or would you prefer to lay across both my legs?” 

“This is fine.” You thinly respond and, without any further preamble, Wriothesley flips the back of your dress up. Squeaking softly at the sudden rush of cool air against your already sore bottom, you lift both hands to cover your face with a quiet whimper only to yelp a beat later when he cups the meaty swell of one cheek before doing the same to the other. He gives this one a short, lingering squeeze to make you hiss at the residual pain and then returns to the other side to do the same. 

He takes his time with it, just casually alternating his touch between both sides of your ass, rubbing and caressing the heated skin, offering it occasional pinches to really get the nerves sensitized. The anticipation of waiting is it’s own special brand of torture, and you start to feel well and truly dizzy with it long before he decides to get started. You really couldn’t believe you were doing this entirely of your own volition … not only had you wanted him to do it you’d even let him help you place yourself on the chopping block. What in the world was wrong with you? 

“I’m going to start,” He intones at last, drawing his heavy palm over your ass one final time. “You don’t have to count or thank me for this. We’ll save that for your paddling at the end. For right now I just want you to focus on what it is you’re feeling, is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir …” 

“Good girl.” 

His hand suddenly retreats and — swat! 

You immediately lurch forward with a wounded, faltering sound of agony, tipping straight forward onto your toes in an instinctive attempt to escape that blistering swing. His thick arm tightens around your middle though, giving you enough room to squirm and dance, and writhe, but not nearly enough for you to slip loose. The security that comes in knowing his hold on you is so absolute is surprisingly reassuring though, and you allow yourself to freely feel every single moment of the following few minutes in unrestrained misery. 

Just as every other time he’s spanked you, Wriothesley starts in on your sit spots first and he pays them extra special attention now, alternating back and forth between one and the other at a steady, unfaltering pace. Even trying to curl your legs up does nothing to dissuade him, and you just end up futilely kicking at the air while he continues to rain blow after blow, after blow upon your upturned ass. The insidious nature of him warming you up in the alley first and then letting the sting settle and fester, and recede to a dull ache before starting up again makes itself immediately known and it only becomes increasingly worse as it goes on. It feels like you're being pricked and stabbed by a million tiny needles all at once, and you choke on a half strangled wail when fresh tears soon start to stream down your face. 

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! 

Over and over again, until it turns into a constant, painful blur. You’re vaguely aware of snot dribbling from your nose but you don’t quite have the wherewithal to reach up and swipe it away, much too consumed by the fiery burn spreading across your bottom to care very much about that right now. All you could really seem to comprehend in that moment was that it hurt. Bad. And with that sudden, clawing surge of pain came more tears, more sobbing, more hissing grunts that get caught in your raw throat and seem to cling there. It was overwhelming in a way that made your brain struggle just to process it, the ultimate culmination of too much buildup and not enough time to truly understand any of it. 

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! 

It’s all you can do just to keep breathing through it. Was he actually hitting you harder this time, or was it something else making you squeal so much? All the livewire tension between you and the Duke of Meropide had finally crested, reached its breaking point after skirting around each other and the ever present looming threat of this all day, and it was — it was somehow both better and worse than the first time. It felt amazing to let your mind slip from the material world to a distant, dreamy place somewhere far, far away but it was also agonizing and teeth rattling in equal measure. Your ass felt like it was melting under the heavy crack of his palm. You hated it. You loved it. You had no damn idea what you were feeling anymore. 

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! 

And suddenly … it stops. 

Bonelessly rocking forward at the sudden reprieve, you let out a faltering, wet little gurgle that prompts him to slide his anchoring hand up to rub over your violently shuddering back. You probably would have found it quite reassuring had you not felt like you were going to be sick. 

“How are you holding up, little miss?” 

“I’m fine …” You slur out, still gasping for breath. Wriothesley pauses a moment, seems to think about it, and then shifts under you in the chair. 

“Here, let’s get your legs up as well. The way you jerk so much it’s a wonder you haven’t pulled something yet.” He leans over you to reach down, gathering up your bottom half, and you wordlessly groan in protest as you weakly struggle against his hold. “Hush. I know it hurts but be a good girl for me, okay? There you go … isn’t that better? A little less strain on your middle, right?” 

He pets you, very softly, and you tuck your face down against the side of his thigh with a pitiful tiny sniffle. You couldn’t feel much of anything other than the continuous, throbbing burning that blankets your entire backside, but if he said it was better to lay out across both his legs like this then it probably was. You were just so tired. Exhausted. You barely even had the energy left to cry anymore. 

And that’s when it hits you. What he’d been talking about earlier. It did feel like you’d been flushed clean, every single thought, emotion and memory you’d ever possessed effectively wiped right out of existence and in its place was an empty blank canvas just waiting to be filled up again. For the moment at least you were free, and suddenly the tears start coming again even harder than before. 

Wriothesley holds you through it, gently shushing you and rubbing your back when the tremors start to become too much, threatening to shatter you into a million fleeting pieces right there on his lap. It takes what seems like a very long time for you to start to calm yourself but eventually, finally, you slowly come down from it one jagged shard of you at a time. It leaves you wheezing in the aftermath, hiccuping every so often, and still he just keeps holding you. 

It was … it was kind of nice, actually. 

“Are you in the right headspace for your paddling now?” 

Grimacing slightly, you sensitively squirm and shake on his lap. “Must we?” 

“I’m afraid we must.” He agrees solemnly, tracing his blunt fingertips over the small of your back. “Remember what I told you last time about reinforcing the lesson and making sure you’ve been paying attention? Can you tell me what it is you’re being punished for?” 

It takes you a very long moment to remember. “I didn’t want you to pay for my lunch but you insisted, and I got mad … you make me really mad sometimes.” 

Wriothesley snorts a quiet laugh. “So I’ve noticed. What else, little miss? What else did you do to earn this hairbrush?” 

Your head spins from thinking so hard but at last you manage a soft, “I lied.” 

“Good. What did you lie to me about?” 

“I … I lied about not enjoying it.”

Humming, he traces the path of your spine up to the bunched fabric of your dress, following the curve of every individual divot and bump. “Why did you lie to me about that?” 

You really aren’t sure. Try as you might you just couldn’t seem to recall but, at last, you eventually settle on, “Because I don’t want to enjoy it. I don’t know why I do. Actually I’m not even really sure if I do enjoy it, or if you’re just tricking me.” 

“How would I possibly accomplish that?” 

“I don’t know …” 

“Well, sweet girl, let me tell you something. There’s no shame in enjoying it and I am certainly not tricking you into it either. What is it that you like about it, specifically?” 

You have to labor over that one too. Why was he asking you such complicated questions now of all times, when your head felt like it had been split open and pulled apart? “I guess I like the way your hands feel on me. I like how big you are, and how strong. I feel very small with his grace.”

A pause, thoughtful and curious. “Do you like being made to feel small?” 

Brows knitting as a little bit of the fog starts to peel back, you bring your head up with a heavy, sluggish groan. “Stop asking me so many complicated questions. You are an insufferable man, your grace.” 

“Well, then. My apologies.” He huffs, playing at offense, but you don’t miss the note of laughter in his voice even in your intoxicated state. Turning your head when he leans forward to grab the brush, you stiffen slightly with the realization that, yes, he was indeed about to spank you with it and you can’t help the curling tendril of fear at that as he settles back again. “Do you feel up to counting today, or would you like to just get it done and over with?” 

“That doesn’t seem like much of a choice …” 

Another amused snort. “It probably doesn’t. But you have been awfully good for me since we left that alley. Don’t think I didn’t see those big googly eyes you kept throwing at me.” He teases and, groaning, you reach up to cover your face again while he quietly laughs at your expense. “How about this - you count and I’ll give you a reward at the end. That sounds a bit more fair, doesn’t it? 

“Fine. I don’t even care, just - -“

Swat! 

It hits you out of nowhere and leaves you reeling, sensitively gasping and struggling just to stay in one piece. You shake for everything you’re worth, toes painfully flexing at the suffocating sensation while you twist against it. The brush hurt so, so bad. It felt like it was going to break you. 

“Don’t start getting mouthy just because I gave you a chance to rest for a little bit. Goodness, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone bounce back as quickly as you do.” Wriothesley seems to give his head a brief shake, readjusting the position of his legs under you to subtly angle your ass a bit higher and your top half just a pinch lower. The change in position leaves you blubbering for as slight as it is, and you furiously cling to his pant leg in a grip so tight it makes the knuckles scream, but a soft, attention grabbing tap of the brush against your hip soon draws you back into the moment. 

“I’m waiting.”

“O - o - one, sir …” 

Swat! 

You nearly come right up off his lap from how hard you jerk, but his free hand presses down on your lower back to keep you pinned. Teeth gnashing, you viciously hiss and seeth, impotently kicking your legs against the blinding sting, but it does very little in the way of good. The hurt just sinks in, spreads and then lingers with a tingly, pinprick throb. Suddenly you weren’t so sure you could do this. 

“I … I - I c - can’t —“

“You can, little miss. Although it looks like you might be a bit bruised by the end of it, I have nothing but the utmost faith in you.” 

As if that made you feel even one iota better about it! 

With a pitiful, sobbing mewl, you tuck your face down against his leg in defeat. There was nothing else you could do. “T - … two, sir.” 

A short pause and then — swat! 

You positively shriek, shaking so hard across his legs it’s probably a miracle he manages to stop you from sliding right off. This was terrible, and you’d barely even gotten started! 

“Oooh, gods … th - three, sir. Eeek! Oohhooo! Ohh! Ooh … nnghhnn, f - … four, sir. Aghhn! Ahhaaa … aaahhnn, five, sir! Waaahh!” 

The tears were starting to come again, or trying to, anyway, but you seemed to have cried everything out already. Your eyes just burn and swim with unshed films of mist as you rock against Wriothesley’s legs with each punishing blow. You could feel your skin crawling with every sickening pulse across your bottom, and that was to say nothing of the way your stomach lurches as if to shoot right up out of your throat. You didn’t feel quite as sick as before, but you were still pretty sure that you were going to be sick all over. 

Swat! 

You almost lose count, then you suddenly remember you’re only on seven. 

Hysterically, you start to wail. 

“S - seven, ss - sir … eeek! Hahhnngh … ha - eight, sir, please, don’t — yaaahhah! Oooh, nooo … you’re so mean, ahhn! Haahn! You’re mean, mean, mean!” 

“Am I now?” He drawls, barely heard over your own delirious blabbering. You’d never felt like this before. Never been so incredibly caught up in such all encompassing, dizzying pain, and all you can seem to do is wheeze through it while you uselessly squirm in his lap. 

“Ss - surely I’m not the — the first person to tell y - you that …” 

“You’re not. However, I think you can come up with a much better way to stall than that.” 

You laugh, hysterical and thin. He really was cruel. Quite possibly the meanest person you’d ever been unlucky enough to meet, which just further begged the question … why did you secretly feel so drawn to him, if he was nothing but mean to you? It didn’t make any sense. But, then again, neither does the way you mindlessly push back to arch your searing hot ass up in the air. You really couldn’t fathom what’s come over you, but you don’t stop long enough to linger on it or figure it out. 

“Nine, sir!”

Wriothesley doesn’t even hesitate. Swat! 

Writhing uncontrollably, you force yourself to seethe through it as fast as you’re able to so you can get the next one done and over with. This had quickly turned into an effort in strength of will rather than any kind of physical endurance, but you’d let him beat your ass a bit too much to tap out now. You would push through this just so you could slap him across his stupid smug face as soon as you’d recovered enough to do so! 

“Ten, sir! Ahhn! Ah, ahhh, nngh … eleven, sir!”

Swat! 

Archons, you really were going to be sick. 

“T - twelve, sir! Waaahh! Ohh, gods … thh - thirteen, sir!”

Swat! 

Legs kicking out violently, you take a moment to just shriek into the meat of his leg to muffle the sound. You were so close though … just a few more and you could finally be done with it. 

“Nnghn - hahh! Ahh … four - fourteen, sir! Yaahhghh! Ooohhooo … oww. Fifteen, sir …”

Swat! 

“Ahhgghh! Sixteen, sir! Eeek! Hehhee, eeh … s - seventeen … sir … yeowwch! Ohh, please! No more, no more, no mooooore!” 

Patiently waiting until you calm down enough to hear him, Wriothesley gives your hip a soft, comforting caress with an accompanying jostle to go with it. “You only have two left, little miss. Are you sure you can’t do it? Hm? It seems like it would be such a waste of your efforts to take your punishment like a big girl only to give up now … I can give you a short break, if you want.” 

Struggling not to hyperventilate, you suck in a series of quick, wet breaths and try very hard not to think about how badly your ass hurts. “Y - you’d really stop?” You squeak out, sounding threadbare and pitiful. 

“If you truly needed me to, yes. But there is a big difference between you simply not wanting to do something and you being unable to do it. I think right now you’re just overwhelmed, is all, but do correct me if I’m wrong.” 

You think about that for a long beat, frantically trying to blink away the thick tears lingering in your eyes. If it had been any more than two you were quite certain you wouldn’t have been able to do it but … two wasn’t so bad. It could have certainly been worse. 

Finding your resolve, you viciously fist his pant leg in your hands and force your shuddering body to go still, thinking perhaps that would somehow help you get through the last of it. “Eh - eighteen, sir. Please.”

He shifts against you and — Swat! 

It punches the air right out of you, leaves you gulping for oxygen like a fish out of water, but you don’t stop long enough to let it fully sink in. You couldn’t. “Nineteen, sir!” 

Swat! 

“Twenty! Ooooh, oh god, oh god!” 

“Shh. Deep breaths. Just breathe it in and then let it out. There, you’ve got it. Keep going like that and you’ll be running your mouth again in no time.” He murmurs, making you groan in agony. As if the splintering, eye rattling pain wasn’t bad enough, now you had to listen to him crack jokes too. Amazing. 

But, much to your chagrin, it does work, and you gradually start to come down from it enough to think a little more clearly as the minutes continue to tick by. It’s not by much but at least it lessens enough so that your brain doesn’t feel like it’s bobbing in the tumultuous current out at sea. Even the first time he’d done this you hadn’t felt quite so drained and exhausted … but surely he hadn’t been taking it easy on you back then, right? 

Right? 

“Doing good over there?” 

You draw a slow, stilted breath to steady yourself. “Yeah … no thanks to you, though.” 

“Hah. And what did I say? I knew you weren’t going to stay down long.” 

Gingerly, you start to push up, eager to get out of this uncomfortable position on your stomach, but Wriothesley is quick to grab you so he can control how fast you go, how quickly you can slide jelly filled legs to the floor and make an attempt to stand, but you just shake all over like a newborn fawn even with his help. With a soft click of his tongue, the Duke of Meropide reaches up to grab under your arms and non too gently hauls you right back into his lap again despite your halfhearted protests. The only difference is, this time, you suddenly find yourself straddling his thick thigh and you jolt like he’d zapped you when the pressure digs up into your cunt. 

Noising a wordless sound of confusion, you dazedly glance down to take in the sight of your legs bracketing his thigh, the material of your dress bunched and pooled around you in an inelegant, wrinkled heap. You have no idea what to make of this sudden development, how to even begin processing it. All you know is that the body heat bleeding up from him into you makes your pussy tingle warmly, and you abruptly realize just how wet you really are. The thought that immediately follows that one makes your eyes go big in horror. 

“W - wait —“ You stammer, trying to stand again, but he just firmly holds you in place with those big rough hands on your hips. “Your grace, that’s - -“

“Hush. It’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over. Just relax. You want your reward, don’t you?” 

Quaking, you cautiously lift your attention back to his face. “R - reward?” 

Blunt fingers digging into you, Wriothesley keeps his gaze locked on yours as he slowly starts to lean forward. You’re so confused and jittery that you don’t know what to make of it at first, have no clue what he’s planning to do, but then — he kisses you. And suddenly everything seems to screech to a standstill. 

It’s a soft yet firm press of his lips against yours, so featherlight and brief that it probably would have barely registered in your punchdrunk mind were it not for the intense spark of static energy that zaps through you all at once. You give a tiny little jerk against him, too surprised to react for a long, drawn out beat in which he simply keeps his mouth pressed to yours and nothing more. Like he was waiting. Anticipating how you would respond, if you would respond, when you would respond. 

Abruptly, a delayed shudder finally tears through you hard enough to make you sway on his thigh. A soft gasp followed by a faltering groan. Your lashes sensitively flutter at the sudden rush of heady, sharp arousal that crashes into you all at once and you lift your hands, cautiously slow, to clutch at his impossibly broad shoulders. Wriothesley breathes out a soft sound of approval, spurning you on as he tips his head slightly to better accept the warbling kiss you shyly press back into him. He lets you test the waters on your own for a drawn out beat, his mouth steady under yours when he occasionally moves his lips with yours to further draw you into the motion despite your trembling uncertainty. 

You like the way he tastes, you’re a little surprised to find. You also like the way he feels against you, under you, encompassing you, practically smothering you, and it doesn’t take long for a strange sense of desperation to creep in, prompting you to cling to him tighter. Kiss him more fervently and stiltedly rock into him in a blind search for more of what only he seemed to be able to give you. 

As if that was the cue he’d been waiting for this whole time, Wriothesley starts to kiss you back in earnest now, suddenly dominating the exchange to leave you feeling lightheaded and dizzy. At the same time his hands on your waist tug your pelvis forward to drag your bare cunt across the swell of his thigh, and you sharply gasp at the intense sensation it causes. Nudging his leg up a little higher to make your toes inch up off the ground and leave the majority of your weight centered on your core, he settles into a tortuously slow pace of push and pull, guiding you through the motions with the ever secure anchor of his hands on your body. You quickly succumb to it, all of it. The sensation dragging against your slit as much as the ever present throb across your ass that seems to mirror the wild rhythm of your pulse, the mind numbing way he kisses you, the smell of him as much as the taste of him. You were drowning in it all, sinking alarmingly fast. 

Finally unable to take it any longer, you weakly turn away from his demanding mouth to keen into the air, soft and thin. He doesn’t even hesitate to latch onto the side of your neck, pecking at your jaw and the pounding pulse point he finds a little lower, and you soon shudder at the warm, wet drag of a hot tongue when he laps at your skin. It really was too much. He was too much. 

“Aah … y - your grace, please, I — I don’t understand - -“

“I know, I know.” He shushes you in a low, rumbling growl that has you instinctively arching your back, the glide of your cunt stuttering over his thigh at the overwhelm but his massive hands just keep tugging you back and forth, back and forth. “Just relax and let me take care of it. I’ve got you, okay? You know that don’t you, pretty girl?” 

His mouth works its way back up, kissing along your cheek to claim your mouth again. As if he’s trying to consume you, pull you into his body, and he drags another stilted whine from the back of your throat with the dizzying motion. The lingering sting of tears rises in your eyes once again as you continue to rock against him, hips squirming eagerly in his hold, but no matter how wild you get he just keeps at that same unhurried pace. It’s almost as tortuous as the throbbing pulse that spears through your heated bottom with every little shift or jostle, but it inexplicably seems to make you even wetter. You were soaring unlike ever before. Reeling and heaving, gasping into his mouth. Having no other choice but to accept what he gives — whatever he gives you and however he so chooses — you slump into him and wrap your arms around his neck, clinging for dear life while the tension thrumming through you ratchets higher and higher. 

You’re so caught up in it you almost miss the first sign that this is having any effect on him at all when Wriothesley reluctantly drags his lips off yours in favor of groaning against the side of your face. “Shit, you’re so wet I can feel it bleeding right through my pants leg … you said I was a terror earlier but I honestly think the same thing of you.” A clipped, almost strained laugh. “I fear you may yet be the death of me at this rate, little miss …” 

You whimper at that, tightly screwing your eyes shut as you ride the gradually creating waves washing over you, each a little stronger than the last. “I’m sorry, your grace … I - I’ll have it dry cleaned for you, if — if you’d like …” 

“Nonsense.” He growls, turning his head so he can take a quick nip at your ear to make you gasp. “Say anything like that ever again and I’ll take you right back over my knee, do you hear me? Soak them for all I care. Come on, I know you want to cum … I can feel that cute little pussy of yours throbbing on my leg. Feels like you’ve got another heartbeat down there, doesn’t it? Bet it matches the one in your ass too …”

Crying out in stricken distress, you shudder so violently your hips grind to a sudden halt even when his hands try to keep you moving. He could force you to, if he really wanted, and you knew this, but instead — and much to your gasping surprise, Wriothesley digs his fingers in tight enough to bruise and starts bouncing his leg under you. The sound that suddenly bursts out of you is hysterical and high pitched as you sway and jolt on his lap, hands scrabbling to clutch at him somehow more fervently. The building tension in your body was too much and it locks up every single muscle, sets every single nerve ending to vibrate even while you suck in a haggard mouthful of air that doesn’t seem to be enough. Your lungs are constricting, they won’t expand, and you choke on it, disoriented in the potent flood of endorphins that bears down on you with all the force of a raging hurricane. 

It felt like you were going to vibrate right off his lap. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, lovely girl. Let me see how you look when you’re cumming for me, all nice and pretty. You’re so good for me, when you want to be … but you secretly like being a good girl, don’t you? You want me to keep praising you and rewarding you just as much as you want me to keep putting you in your place. Yeah, I’ve got you all figured out now. Don’t be scared. I won’t let you fall, just let it go. Cum for me, baby, scream for me - -“ 

You’re completely blindsided when the coil finally snaps and you do indeed scream, shrieking plaintively as your legs jerk and try to find purchase on the floor, try to push yourself up to escape the onslaught of sensation, but he just holds you in place even when you devolve into a mindless fit of spasms on top of him. Wailing in pleasure so potent it almost hurts, you judder through your orgasm and shove your face into the soft fur embellishing his coat, muffling the sound just enough to stop it from echoing endlessly inside your head. The persistent nudge of his leg right against your squeezing cunt seems to drag it out, encouraging tremor after quaking tremor to tear through you until, at last, you can take no more and you go boneless against him with a frazzled, heaving groan. 

Finally, Wriothesley slows the bounce of his leg and then stills all together. Giving you an appreciative pinch around the waist, he slowly drags his hands up your sides to wrap around you and tuck you more closely against him while you weakly twitch through your post-climax haze, struggling to calm your breathing. He lets out a terse, shuddering breath of his own and rubs across your back in comforting circles, sounding a bit dazed himself when he eventually speaks again. 

“Archons, you're perfect.” 

Offering up a soft whine, you give your head a numb shake. “Don’t say that.” You murmur into his collar. 

“But it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you, little miss. Not about anything.” Silence settles over the two of you for a long stretch, just sharing the mutual body heat between each other and the lingering haze of static energy in the room. Eventually, though, Wriothesley turns his head to tuck his face in close to yours, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. “We need to get you cleaned up and situated but I just want to make sure you know I’m proud of you.”

You go stock still at that, your fingers sinking deeper into his shoulders. “What?” 

Snorting, he nuzzles further into you until you have no choice but to turn your head, grudgingly allowing him to press his forehead against yours. “For everything, but especially for finishing your paddling.” He murmurs softly into the razor thin space separating you from him. “I know that was exceptionally hard for you to do but you took it well and you pushed through. I’m also quite pleased that you were able to cum for me. That satisfied me a great deal too.” 

“It’s not like I really had much of a choice …” 

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To give you what you need, even if you don’t realize you need it yet.” 

Huffing a brief sound of fluster, you quickly gather your resolve and force yourself to pull away, even though you would have gladly clung to him for the rest of the day if you would have allowed it. That seemed like it probably wasn’t the best idea though. Too tempting to reconcile in your mind, so you carefully untangle from him and move to stand up. You’re quite relieved that he lets you go without a fuss, helping you find your balance and get your legs under you again, but you regret it almost as soon as you take a step back and see his pant leg. 

The wet stain bleeding through the fabric is rather obvious on the light gray material, and embarrassingly spread out too. Gasping in unmitigated horror, you quickly slap your hands over your face and make an impulsive, blind dash for the bathroom to lock yourself away and wallow in your own embarrassment in peace. And Wriothesley, for his part, just laughs at your reaction, evidently not at all concerned about either getting his pants clean or being able to coax you back out later. 

Burn that dirty, rotten scoundrel!

⭐

Crossposted: here

[queenofspades6]

Not an investment - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget Kaz with a man from the Crow Club. Kaz isn’t pleased at all. He finds a way to get rid of the guy, but you caught him. Kaz finally touches you for the first time.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Jealous Kaz.

A/N: I first wrote a draft of this when the first season of Shadow & Bone launched, i finally finished it, and wanted to share! I am so obsessed with Kaz! I might meet Freddy Carter on May, can’t wait but I am so scared at the same time!

———

You and the Crows had just accomplished another successful mission, earning each of you considerable money. The Crows had decided to throw a party to celebrate. Even Kaz had agreed to come. When Jesper asked him to join them, Kaz nodded, and Jesper cheered loudly, earning Kaz a grin.

Kaz Brekker had spent the last hour sitting with his arm on the bar, sipping a drink, and keeping an eye on the improvised dance floor. When the party began, Nina was already dancing, earning curious glances from both women and men. Jesper joined her after getting a few drinks. He tried to convince Inej to go dancing with him and Nina.

”You don’t want to go with them?“ You asked Inej, frowning.

”I do, but don’t tell them. Let them try to convince me.”

You nodded and asked the bartender for a strong drink. ”Make it two,” Inej said.

You watched her before glancing at the bartender.

”Tough night?” Inej asked.

You nodded again.

Inej didn’t bother to pry much; she knew each of you had your past. She knew how it felt to live with it, to live with the memories still there, haunting at night and even during the day... She knew better than to ask you about it.

The bartender arrived with both of your drinks. You thanked him and looked at Kaz, who was sitting at the other end of the bar, staring at people dancing and drinking in the Crow Club.

A man approached you. You didn’t see him coming; you were too caught up in stealing glances at Dirtyhands. The man took the seat next to you, and with a charming smile, he said:

“I didn’t take the infamous Ghost of Ketterdam for a drinker.”

You turned toward him, with a serious and almost warning look.

After all, you were the Ghost. If someone had a job to do, you were here. Looking for someone who disappeared? Easy. Stealing? As if you were a beginner. Taking revenge? Already done. Killing? Done. The Ghost was a shadow in Ketterdam. The kind of story that makes kids stay up all night. Rumors were you had no law, no faith and no humanity left. Oh, how wrong were they. If only they knew...

“What if I am?” You replied to the man.

”Even better.”

You grinned at him and decided to play the game.

“What about I offer you a drink?” He questioned, glancing at your body.

“I already have one, but go on.”

The man asked for another round of drinks, and the bartender complied.

”I didn’t think the Ghost was a beautiful woman like you.” He started, his eyes looking at his next prey.

Before, you would have punched that man hard in the face, but tonight, you didn’t care. You just wanted to have fun, and maybe it could involve him.

“Oh yeah? “

”Yes. Do you know how much people would pay to have you in their bed?”

You laughed and crossed eyes with Kaz. He was staring at you curiously. You thought it was a coincidence, but Kaz had been watching the whole time.

“I know.”

”Quite modest, I see.”

“I can be and do many things, you know?” You flirted, your head already spinning.

A little flirt was harmless, right? It wasn’t like it would change something. You stole another glance at Kaz, still sipping his drink in deadly silence. You knew there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, which you both probably wanted, but that was just impossible. Something that couldn’t be. So why not have fun with this silly man, you thought?

”I can only imagine.“ The man replied, his right hand stroking yours on the counter and his other hand on your knee.

”Let’s dance first.“

The man took your hand and complied, bringing you to the dance floor. The man danced with you, sometimes brushing your body. You didn’t care. Alcohol gave you confidence and relief. You danced closer to the man. And even closer. You both moved simultaneously, feeling the loud music and the alcohol in your veins. You could already feel the man’s arousal. But you didn’t care. You were trying to forget. Forget him and his stupid blue eyes. His silly cane. His silly waistcoats. Him. You just wanted to forget.

What you didn’t know was that Kaz Brekker couldn’t look away. His eyes were glued to your form and this man. This Dreg. Oh, Kaz hated the man at this moment. His hand tightened around his cane.

The man touched you even more intimately, placing his hand on your thigh. Kaz was watching it all; his hand clenched in a fist. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He knew you had a few drinks and hated the idea of the man taking advantage of you. Or worse... Maybe you let him...

Dirtyhands whispered something to the bartender, and then a servant rushed anxiously towards you.

The servant asked for ‘Jake’ something and then told him that someone was waiting outside for him.

He nodded.

“Sweetheart, I need to take care of something, and then I am coming back for you. We’ll finish what we started.”He said, a smirk forming on his lips.

You consented, not understanding what was happening.

The man walked toward the backdoor leading to the streets. You took a deep breath and went back towards your seat. You finished your drink quickly and began to think.

‘What was I doing? Seriously? This man? I am the Ghost, for Saint’s sake, I deserve better.’

Feeling shameful, you wanted some fresh air to think clearly. Or maybe you just needed to flee. You rushed toward the door of the Crow Club and opened it.

There was ‘Jake’, his face bloody and bruised, held by the arms of two men taller than him.

What was going on?

That’s when you saw Kaz punching Jake in the face. The man spit blood, and Dirtyhands held his head in his gloved hand.

”If you dare touch her again, you are dead.”

Kaz was going to hit Jake with his cane, but your screaming interrupted him.

”What’s going on?“

Kaz nodded, and his men let Jake go. He didn’t think twice. Without looking at you once, the man flew in as he had arrived.

The men stared at Dirtyhands, waiting for his approval to leave. Kaz gestured, and they left.

”What’s going on? I won’t ask it again.“

“This stupid... man touched you.” He declared calmly, removing the blood from his sleeve.

”Yes, and?”

“He didn’t ask.”

”Because I let him. Do you genuinely think he would have touched me if I hadn’t allowed it? You know what I do and who I am.” You murmured.

Kaz’s blue eyes were avoiding your gaze, looking at the street and holding tightly onto his cane. He frowned.

”Why?“He questioned.

“Why? You dare ask why? You know damn well, Brekker.“

”Enlighten me with what I am supposed to know ‘damn well’.

He clenched his teeth, and you approached him dangerously. You plunged your eyes into his, almost begging him not to let you speak.

”I needed a distraction.”

“A distraction?” He questioned, wonder in his eyes.

“But we succeeded in the mission. We won thousands of kruge, Y/N.”

”I know.”

”Is it not enough for you? What do you need more? What do you need more than what thousands of Kruge can offer you?”

You repressed your tears. You were the Ghost after all, you couldn’t cry even if you wanted to.

“Thousands of Kruge can’t buy me you.” You whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear.

“Me?”

“Your name is Kaz Brekker, no? Or should I say Dirtyhands?“

A small smile escaped his lips, quickly replaced by sadness. He was staring at his gloved hands. What was he supposed to do? Tell you he felt the same, and offer you what exactly? He couldn’t even touch you.

“I was trying to forget you with this man, to forget the times you looked at me like I was an investment, when I came back from a mission hurt badly and you just said ‘good job’.

“What do I have that you might want?” He asked, his voice almost trembling.

Memories of Jordie flooded his mind. The times when they were happy, or at least tried to because they were together.

You didn’t reply, just watched him, the man you love.

“I can’t offer you anything, Y/N.” Kaz declared, approaching you with the most sincere look you’ve ever seen him with.

”I can’t offer you a crown, a throne, or even a palace. I can’t provide you the most precious jewels in the world. I can’t make you my queen, Y/N.”

”How romantic.” You finally spoke, crossing your arms.

”At least I have the decency not to lie to you.” He replied.

”I think I would have preferred you to lie.” You declared, trying to repress your tears again.

”What did you want me to say? That I would make you a Queen even though we live in Ketterdam, and would cover you with the most expensive jewels when we loot every day to survive? You would have wanted me to tell you that I cannot live without you, although touching you is unbearable to me? You would have liked me to tell you that I love you, right Y/N?

Eyes misted with tears, Y/N dared to meet his gaze. When Kaz saw that Y/N’s eyes were shining, he realized the magnitude of his words. He had always thought that by being cruel, he could push people away, keep them away, to avoid doing harm and, above all, be hurt. Things had gone wrong the last time he had loved someone, so how could he really trust his heart anymore?

Jordie.

His name echoed in his head when he looked at Y/N. He wanted to apologize, hug her, and kiss her lips, but he couldn’t.

He tried to take a step towards her to try to comfort her, but when his hand approached her bare arm, he resigned himself to it. He was shaking. Touching someone seemed impossible so how could he ask Y/N to stay? What could he offer her? A life of hidden gazes, impossible caresses, abstinence... Y/N deserved better. She could have had better. Nikolai Lantsov had always wanted her. All she had to do was say yes, and she would become the first Grisha Queen. Kaz had to admit Y/N would make an exquisite Queen. She was fair, and she only hurt when necessary. Y/N deserved a better life than a life in danger in Ketterdam. And if Pekka Rollins learned that Dirtyhands cared about her, he would seek to get rid of her by any means possible.

Y/N gazed at Kaz one last time before turning to the door. She was about to grab the handle when she felt pressure on her arm. Kaz was touching her.

“Don’t leave, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes.

“Is it a command, Boss? You asked, annoyed.

“It’s not.”

You observed Kaz’s face. For someone who didn’t know him, Kaz was emotionless. But at that moment, you knew he was vulnerable. His features were different. He seemed fragile. The bastard of the barrel seemed weak! You laughed in your head.

“Stay, please.” He begged you, the silence in his head unbearable.

You made a small move to get out of his grip. His hand fell against his body. And suddenly, he grabbed your hand. You stared at your hand in his gloved ones. Seeing your reluctance, he pulled his hand away and took off his gloves. Trying to calm his trembling, he reached for your delicate hand. His fingers brushed your skin, knuckles, and wrist, sending shivers down your whole body. Kaz was trying to memorize your hand, the veins in your wrists, your knuckles, to make it familiar, so that he wouldn’t be scared anymore.

“Can I?” He asked you.

You nodded, astonished to see Kaz Brekker asking for permission. He wasn’t one to ask. He always took and took. Never saying please. Never asking for permission. And here he was. All vulnerable in front of you.

He took your hand in his with hesitation and still trembling. Dirtyhands was trying his best to hide his fear in front of you. He was the bastard of the barrel. Everybody feared him, and yet he could not take your bare hand in his. He felt pathetic. He stared at your intertwined fingers for some time.

“What more can I offer you than what you already have?”

Your attention, your time, your love, your skin (maybe not), everything, you wanted to scream but you couldn’t. He was Kaz Krekker after all.

“I can’t make you happy, Y/N. You should go with Nikolai, he’ll know what to do. I can’t even kiss you, Y/N. I can’t, it’s pure torture. I can’t.”

One tear was slowly running across your cheek.

“I don’t want wealth or power. I don’t care about Saints.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Your love.“ You spitted.

Your hands were still intertwined, and that’s when Kaz noticed that while you were talking, he forgot about your hand in his, and for once, it had not disturbed him. It was brief, but he had felt your skin against his, the feeling of coldness and an almost delicate hand. He was staring at your hands with intensity, not knowing where his began and yours finished. The contact with your skin burned him, it was like caressing fire, feeling the unbearable heat against his fingers, against his palm, and yet he didn’t want to remove his hand from your painful skin.

“Kaz, look at me.”

You knew he was fighting his own demons, and it was not easy to hold your hand, and much less for a few minutes.

“Focus on my voice.”

He complied, and you dared take his hand and bring it to your face.

“I am here for you. Since the beginning, I have been here. Since the first day we looked at each other in this street, I knew everything would be different.”

While talking, you held his index finger in your tiny fingers compared to his. It was reaching dangerously for your cheek.

“Do you remember, Brekker, the first day we met?”

Kaz was trying his best to focus on your eyes, lips, on everything other than his fear to feel. It was finally this fear of hurting that made every touch burn. And you knew, you understood.

“I was pulling a dagger from my bleeding shoulder, sitting alone on the street, when you came. And do you remember what you said to me?”

You finally put his index finger delicately on your cheek. Step by step. You knew it would take time. Months and years, probably. But you were never a quitter after all.

Kaz chuckled, remembering this particular day when he thought that the Ghost everybody was scared of was just a little girl. Today, he knew he was wrong.

“You first said to me “Work for me, Ghost, and you’ll never have to pull out any dagger of your shoulders.”

Dirtyhands grinned, and with his index finger on your cheek, he explored your skin, still burning him. You removed your hand and laughed.

“You know, the day I met you, I knew you wanted me to work for you because I was taking all your contracts.”

He laughed again, and a second finger was caressing your cheek.

“I couldn’t let you take all the money.” Kaz replied, with this smirk you loved.”And you said ‘yes’ if I recall.”

“That I did. Though I did pull out many other daggers from my shoulder.” You spoke softly.

Another laugh, and he put a third finger on your face, stroking and trying to control his trembling. Still, he never dared remove his gaze from you.

“I know. I was planning a meeting with you for weeks, trying to find something to make you work for me. But you had no weakness, no secret that I knew of. I didn’t know what you were looking for.”

The tips of his three fingers were still on your skin, learning every wrinkle you would have, every scar, everything, even if it burned.

“That’s what made me so good, back then I had nothing to look for and nothing to lose.”

“And now?”

“Now, I have a goal, something to fight for, that’s what makes me fearsome.” You muttered and smiled at your words because you meant them.

Kaz smirked. He knew there were two kinds of people to fear: those who had nothing left to lose, and the ones who had everything to lose.

With sudden confidence, Kaz reached with one finger for your lips, trying to touch, and caress them. His trembling finger found your lip, he felt it, his deep blue eyes on yours. You were watching him with pride.

Maybe too greedy, Kaz wanted to feel your face with his hand, he tried to place all his fingers against your skin, but the burning was too powerful. Suddenly, he removed his hand, shivering.

“I-I am sorry.”He said, his armor falling back in place.

He saw Jordie’s face again. And he felt the skin of other corpses on his. It was warm. Too warm. It was burning him up. He was screaming, and nobody came.

“Kaz. Kaz! Look at me.”

He heard your voice calling in this ocean of corpses.

You didn’t touch him, but called his name.

“Kaz. You are with me. You are not there. Not anymore. Breathe. You are safe.”

He finally saw your eyes and where he was. In the middle of the street with you. He got up, dusted off his coat, and stared at you.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

He put back on his gloves and resumed leaning on his cane.

He was not only Kaz Brekker at this moment, but also Dirtyhands, and the bastard of the barrel. You smiled and glanced at his form as it left the room.

“The answer is this.”

The Bastard of the barrel turned to you and looked at your face, eyes full of silent interrogation.

“This is what I want, Kaz Brekker, and this is what you can offer me.”

You swore you could see a smirk escaping his lips. And this was the moment you knew you were not just an investment for Kaz Brekker.

———

If you loved this story, don’t forget to like, reblog and comment! I’d love to write more Kaz x reader with the OC “The Ghost” if there is enough interest, I’ll write more for Kaz!

[z0mb1epuzzy]

Vox relationship hcs !! SFW & NSFW (Gender Neutral)

SFW:

Warnings: Val mentioned. (joking)

- Vox is obviously a guy who needs some validation, he won’t admit it - but the second you tell him how handsome he looks or how good a job he did on the air that day, you notice his mood is overall… better.

- Naturally the other V’s will still be involved in Vox’s life. Velvette adores you, probably treating you like a friend who just happens to be dating her coworker more than anything. Valentino seems relatively indifferent, he tried his little flirting routine once or twice, but the second Vox snapped at him for it (Yk that scene where he gets all up in his face and says “VAL”? yeah, that type of snap) he backed off, promising you some “good work” if things didn’t work out between you and vox.

- In terms of your actual relationship, the parts that go on behind closed doors and whatnot, he’s a lot softer than one may expect. Once he drops the whole “hotshot celebrity overlord” act, he’s shockingly.. sweet? He secretly enjoys just spending time cuddling you. (his head on your chest? your head on his? he honestly doesn’t mind either way.)

- If he ever catches you eyeing something in public, he always finds a way to get it for you. You mention a shirt you thought was cute? Suddenly he’s bringing you home said shirt in a nicely wrapped little box. He calls it a “lucky coincidence.” (all he wants is to make you happy, so a couple hundred dollars in whatever knickknacks make you smile is nothing.)

- still not over the alastor thing.

NSFW: (the part you’re probably here for)

Warnings: NSFW (ofc), vibrating dick?, semi public, oral, some little sprinkles of power bottom vox, masochism(?)

Kinks - masochism (biting, scratching, whatever), dacryphilia (loves fucking you to tears bc i said so), DEGRADATION (giving, not receiving), praise (mutual), semi-public, maybe some temp play?

- Oh, your poor holes. all of them. The second this man gets off work and you hear him grumbling under his breath? just know you’re probably gonna have jello legs for a few hours (minimum.)

- Vox probably has a pretty high sex drive, not quite as high as someone as angel, but after a tough day at work, dealing with whatever bullshit man - tantrum val had, having some kind of annoying glitch with his systems, whatever is enough to irritate him.

- If you ever come and visit him on one of those days, thinking it would be a fun idea to visit him at work and maybe tease him a little, just prepared to be fucked over a desk or against a wall. he has no patience.

- If you’re someone with fem reproductive bits, be prepared because sometimes this man does NOT have the patience for a condom. (pullout game is awesome though, so that’s a plus)

- on a good day, a day where he gets to spend his time with you alone, no work or distractions, he will take his time with you. On days where he can take his time and go nice and slow with you, running his nice sharp fingers over your thighs, (maybe using some of that electricity to give you little shocks…if you’re into that) telling you how beautiful (or handsome ofc) you are, just really nice foreplay…. before you’re inevitably destroyed by his cock. (and yes, it vibrates.)

- PRAISE+DEGRADATION. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, you know that?” or “My good fucking whore.” type shit

- He’d absolutely love receiving head, though… for obvious reasons GIVING it may be a bit complicated. When you give it though, vox WILL melt for you, groaning and cursing under his breath, when he gets close he can’t help but grab your head and face-fuck you, pulling you off his cock last minute to release onto your face (if you’re okay with that - he’s fine with your mouth too.)

- This man is fully willing to pound the everliving soul out of you if you’ll let him, but if you ever decided to take control for a night…. he’d act opposed, but you can see the intrigue on his face. (definitely ends up blue-screening) when this man is on the bottom he gets LOUD, though he’d probably get pissed off and take control again if you teased him enough.

[whateversawesome]

Do you know that kind of people who...

...ask newly married couples: "When are you having a baby?" Or if you already have a kid, "when are you having a second one?"

The kind of people that say: "You should kiss your wife more! I never see you two kiss. I kiss my wife all the time!"

You know...the kind of people who would make a fake marriage nervous 😏 ...

Somehow Anya's grandparents make me think of these kind of people.

But only time will tell...

I'm so happy Anya has more people to support her and protect her. She's slowly getting a whole family! She has a mom and dad, a pup, two uncles, one godmother (Handler) and now grandparents. Good for her! (Maybe a baby brother or sister one day? 👶)

So about the Authens...

They seem to be the real deal; meaning not spies, but a real couple, who have gone through tick and thin together. My view is that in this SxF universe, the Authens may represent the truth.

And what does truth do to lies? It exposes it!

It's not a coincidence that the Authens are an old couple. It makes sense: they have seen a great deal, they know the world, they have experienced it, so they also probably know a lot.

The fact that Mr. Authen has memory problems is typical of someone his age, but it's also a metaphor of the truth: With time (age) it gets murky, truth starts to be forgotten, humans get a "bad memory" of past events and are doomed to repeat them. Sounds familiar?

Now, going back to the dynamic of the Authens with our dear Forgers. My guess is that this elderly couple is going to see right through them. After living for so long, they probably know people do crazy things to stay safe from authoritarian regimes like the one Ostania is living in. That includes entering a fake marriage.

Nevertheless, just like they could probably figure out Loid and Yor are a fake couple, they will also see that the love and care between them is real. Hence all the uncomfortable questions that could or could not happen.

It's all part of exposing the truth and the truth is that even though those two are not together for real (for now) they do love each other.

I can't wait to see Twilight and Yor getting extremely uncomfortable!

Also, since neither Twilight nor Yor grew up in a family with a healthy marriage (we don't know anything about Yor's parents and Twilight's parents didn't get along), the Authens can be that example for them.

It'll be nice for them to know what a good marriage looks like, how nice is to have someone who supports you, loves you and is with you through thick and thin. And this could be the way Mr. Authen pays back Yor and Anya: by helping them keep their family.

If we enter specifics (and since a public display of affection was shown in the last panel), Yor could see that physical affection is not something to feel embarrassed about, but something to cherish and to show love to her spouse. Twilight, on the other hand can learn it's okay to let your guard down with the person you love and that it's okay to lean on Yor. Look at all the Forgers already learning from this lovey dovey couple 😆

One more thing, SxF is full of foils and I believe this old couple is a foil of what Twilight and Yor could be in the future (if they do things right). After living a long life together, they still love each other. Wouldn't it be nice for them to see themselves reflected in the Authens? Wouldn't it be nice for them to start wanting exactly that?