#N is cool and wholesome as hell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicalbats · 1 year ago

Text

Flesh-Devouring Part 2

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 20,217

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

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

⭐

“Good morning, your grace!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the other?”

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

Your eyes go big. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Much, much too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Resounding, echoing silence and a wall of blank stares.

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

More silence. More staring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, yes, but - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was really working.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want em’”

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

Ah. So your suspicions were correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe so, but I could kill her!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you do that to him?”

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

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

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

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

“I care about you too.”

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

“But it’s true.”

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

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

“You think?”

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

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

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

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

“But there must have been another way - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s on you in an instant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move your hand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another nod, even more wild than the last.

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

“I’d say that’s an understatement.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y - yes …”

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

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

“What’s going to happen to him now?”

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

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

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

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

“Lovely girl - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe you could try touching him?

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

“Y - your grace …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little bit …”

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

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

“Would it really fit inside me?”

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

“W - what? What’s wrong?”

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

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

“Will it hurt?”

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

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

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

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

“Very much so.”

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

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

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

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

“More than I’d like to admit.”

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

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

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

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

“Oohh, gods —“

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swat!

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

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

Swat!

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

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

Swat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t - -“

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

“But - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would I - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, your grace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who wrote this one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm … I suppose it would.”

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

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

“… you are truly detestable sometimes.”

“So I’ve heard.”

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

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

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

“No, your grace. I am only resting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only six.” He confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s hear it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then let’s find out.”

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

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

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

“… yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… two, sir.”

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

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

Whap!

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

“Ooh … three, sir …”

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

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

“It could be.”

You snort. “I bet it could.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

“F - five, sir …”

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

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

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

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

Whap!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y - your grace! Ooohhnnggh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Up against his hand, back against his cock.

His hand, his cock.

Wriothesley’s hand and Wriothesley’s cock.

The coil snaps. Just like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, but you suddenly felt terribly faint.

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

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

⭐

Crossposted: here

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

290 notes · View notes

nothomegal · 1 year ago

Text

“The little owl family” (Part 5)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond. Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: mentions of non-con touches towards (Y/N), (Y/N) being very hateful and angry with Mikey.

Word Count: 3.9k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6)

The next two days were rough, it felt like walking on eggshells. No matter where the siblings went or what they did, Michael always was nearby, just watching them, observing each of their activities and interactions.

Monday was fun (not at all), (Y/N) had to call and invent some excuse about their sister being sick for a week since Michael made it clear that they're not going anywhere for now, how you may ask? Easy, taking away the car keys right under their nose and seeing if they got the balls to get them back. (Y/N) was beyond pissed, but had to keep their frustration to themselves since there is little they can do about it, not without losing or breaking another limb in the process.

(S/N) wasn't even excited about not going at school, it's obvious that the little girl was uncomfortable with the precense of some big scary man, a big scary man who often holds a knife.

Oh, the knife. That stupid knife that (Y/N) often felt poking their sides or slide along their back and other parts that should not be touched by strangers. These unwelcomed 'knife touches' would usually happen when the man holding the weapon wanted more food, or simply because... Because he could, because he knows they won't do anything to stop him, because he wants to explore their body, see how it reacts to the cool blade gently sliding along their warm skin... At least Myers kept his part of the agreement and would do this only when (S/N) is not present, detail that lead the older sibling to believe that he has some very shady intentions towards them...

That disgusting son of a bitch.

Sleeping also became a problem, for the last night Michael would show up after midnight and just… Watch. It made (Y/N) super uncomfortable, they attempted to come to some agreement but all they got as an answer is a head tilt. The last straw was when (S/N) broke down in tears at the morning, confessing how much she hated when he is there and how scary it was. So (Y/N), like the older protective sibling they are, came up with a solution…

. . .

Staring, it became their unofficial language. (Y/N) was currently sitting on the ground with a kitchen knife tightly clutched in their hand. They're sitting right next to their sister’s room door, who by this time was sleeping soundly in her bed, completely unaware that her sibling is at the other side of the door, guarding it like a police dog and making sure that the monster doesn't disturb her innocent mind any further. Michael, of course, was there as well, staring back at (Y/N) from the darkest part of the corridor.

(Y/N) was no longer afraid, no longer fearful for their life, now they were just annoyed, angry, furious at the masked man. The audacity, the audacity of this bastard to just appear out of nowhere and ruin their simple and peaceful life with his presence, being this giant shadow that has no respect for (Y/N)'s boundaries and patience, testing them constantly, seeing how long they can handle before snapping and inevitably dying by his hand. They hated him, hated with a burning passion, they wanted to hurt him, stab him with everything in the house, lock him up back in the asylum, make him crawl back into the place in hell he came from…

The more their mind filled with such violent thoughts, the more their face changed into a sulk; brows deeply furrowed, jaw clutched tightly, eyes glued to his large form, pupils shrunken… Every single hint of disgust and unlikeness were reflected in their expression, in their gaze… But it didn’t affect Michael, not at all.

Or at least… They didn’t know it did.

The man stared back at (Y/N) nearly as intensely as they did, but unlike them, he wasn't feeling hate or anger, but a desire, desire for something. He still has to figure out what's that feeling is, which is constantly burning him from the inside, luring him closer and closer to them, demanding him to touch them, feel their body against his calloused hands and not the knife's blade, feel the way their chest raises and falls with each breath, feel their pulse move with each heartbeat... Look into their eyes... He wanted to stare into those eyes for an eternity, feel the heat of their anger burn his skin, scratch it with cold glances and then softly caress it with their warmth...

Warmth...

Even though Michael adored the thrill that (Y/N)'s furious gaze causes in him, sometimes... He wished he could experience their soft and loving gaze, the one they always gift their sister with. The way their face lights as they look at the little one, a soft warm smile appearing on their lips as a light gentle blush spreads on their cheeks. When (Y/N) has these eyes... They look so peaceful, so... He can't even describe it, but it somehow puts his mind on ease as well, making him feel like everything in the world is alright, like everything will be alright.

Sigh... But these are only wishes, something he had plenty of over the years. He wished for his mother to be home more often, a normal happy family, a good childhood, see his little sister and attempt to make their reunion right... He wished for so many things, yet none of them became true, so this one won't neither...

He will never experience these warm and loving eyes...

Never... Neither from (Y/N)... Or (S/N), who's still avoiding him and shying away in his presence, as if running away from a monster...

. . .

—"{Fuck...}"— you cuss under your breath as you look at the nearly empty fridge.

—"It's okay (Y/N), we can just go to the store and buy more!"— (S/N) says with an excited and innocent tone.

But in a second, her expression changed into a fearful one as she steps back. That's when (Y/N) feels a large hand grasp them by their arm, a bit roughly, which meant that Michael wanted their attention inmediatly.

They swallow thickly but mantain their composure. With their hand (Y/N) motions to their sister to go into her room, order that the little girl listens without a fuss and nearly trips as she runs away from the kitchen. Ones left alone, (Y/N) turns towards the large man while sighing shakily.

—"Okay, so-"—

They have no time to finish when their car keys were handed (thrown) to them. (Y/N) blinks a couple of times as they process what happened, huh... Well it was easy.

—"Oh..."— you slowly lift your gaze at his emotionless mask, your gaze distrustful, expecting some sort of trick. —"So... Am I really allowed to go?"—

No answer or movement, only an intensive stare. They sigh shakily again as they hide the keys in their pocket.

—"Can I take (S/N) as well?... She hasn't left the house for a whil- "—

Their form is suddenly pushed back against the fridge, their back pressed against the cold surface while a single large hand is holding them by the throat in place, firmly but not chocking.

He then slowly brings his knife up and simply points at them with the blade, it wasn't a threatning gesture, in Michael's terms, just a simple act to get a message across...

That they are going alone.

(Y/N)'s mouth gapes as their expression morph into a shocked and disgusted one, is he really planning to stay all alone with their little sister?!

—"You sick fuck, the hell you want to do to my si-"—

He suddenly shakes his head, not a little subtle jerk but an actual shake, probably realizing how bad and shady his intentions have looked from (Y/N)'s perspective.

(Y/N) let's out another sigh, trying to calm their temper and anxiety down, they really don't want to leave (S/N) all by herself with this maniac, but at the same time they really need food and other supplies. Reslizing that there is really no other way, at least not without ending up hurt, they groan both annoyed and frustrated at how helpless and useless they are.

—"Fine! I'll go alone... But... But let me warn my sister first, please."— you look into his mask's eye sockets as you plead, your own gaze less harsh, almost vulnerable.

They can feel his fingers twitch against their neck when they lock eyes, action that caught their breath and made body stiff. They can hear Michael's breathing get heavier again as they keep gazing at each other, yet their calm and pleading expression still not changing, hoping that this could somehow calm whatever is going on inside of his mind, hope he shows mercy... However, they do end up flinching when the man began to lean closer to their face, so close that they could nearly see his eyes, his real eyes, through the empty eye holes of the mask.

At the sight of his icy blue eyes stare back at them, (Y/N) freezes as an odd spine chill jolts through them, an electrifying feeling that made them both hot and cold at the same time. Oddly enough, they weren't afraid of his gaze... His emotionless yet intense gaze, like that of a wild hungry animal...

They remain like this for a while, their faces only inches away from each other. But when Michael attempted to move even closer and press his body agains (Y/N)'s, they finally snap of this strange trance and stop him by putting their hands against his solid chest.

—"S-Stop, this... This is too close."— you say, your tone a tag defensive.

Michael remains still, they could swear his eyes darkened by the regection, yet he doesn't push further and eventually let's go of their neck and steps back. It takes a second for them to regain their previous composure and focus, but thankfully they manage to.

—"I... I'll go tell (S/N)."— you grumble as you hurriedly make your way out of there.

. . .

—"Y-You're leaving me alone?... With the monster?"— (S/N) says shakily as she clings to your clothes and being on a verge of tears.

—"I'm sorry, songbird. I'm really sorry. But I promise I'll be back soon, you'll be okay, I know you will."— you hug her back tightly, also being quite emotional due to your own fear and worry.

—"But... B-But what if he-"—

—"He won't. He won't hurt you, he promi-"—

—"But he hurts you, (Y/N)!"— she exclaims, both angry and pained.

—"What?... No, no he doesn't, look, I'm fine."—

—"No you're not! I know he does something to you when you're alone and I can see that, you always look so hurt and angry and... Sad... You always so sad whenever he's around."— she looks at you as she grips your clothes tighter. —"I... I don't want him to make me sad too... I- I don't want to see you like this anymore, I want the old us back, when we were happy!"—

These words broke (Y/N)'s heart completely. Despite their efforts to keep everything cool and away from (S/N), the little girl proved that they didn't do a great job and how truly affected she is. However, they don't give up against their emotions and with a huff they hug their sister tightly again.

—"We will return to normal. As I said, I'll figure this out."— you look at her and your gaze softens a bit. —"When mom and dad were gone, I had to figure out many things at ones too, and as you can see, I did it. So why whouldn't I be able now?"—

The girl falls silent, thinking and unsure of what to say.

—"I know it's hard, I know you hate to see me cry, but I'll get us through this and soon I'll be the good old smily (Y/N) you know. Just be patient and remain strong, okay? Do that for me."— you smile at her as you take her hand into yours.

Both siblings lock eyes and another wave of silence came, but this time it was (S/N) who broke it by suddenly wrapping their arms around her sibling.

—"You're right! I must remain as strong as you!"— she confidentaly huffs. —"And- And I'll help you figure out things! Like our escape plan!"—

(Y/N) merely chuckled, already knowing that the 'plan' will be some sort of impossible and childish idea, but they'll give (S/N) an A for the attempt and effort. Ones made sure their sister was okay, they prepare to leave, but not before reminding the little girl to not come out her room until they return, order that she promised to follow.

When they exit into the hall, and to no one's surprise, Michael was standing right there, staring at their form. (Y/N) returns the stare for a moment, but instead of glaring daggers at the man, they simply scoff as they brush past him with a pitty gleam on their eyes.

Tsk, they are sad? Just look at him! Always trying to insert himself and be part of their every single interaction... That is sad...

Actually sad...

(Y/N) glances back before going through the front door, well aware that Michael followed them, he always does... The two lock eyes, though (Y/N)'s expression was hard to decipher.

—"I'll be back in a little while, you... Well, you already know your part of the deal."— you give a little shrug and finally exit the house.

When their car left, Michael remained in place next to the window, just staring and watching. Though (Y/N) said more than ones that he's allowed to do whatever, he doesn't really feel like doing anything. Sure, he can take a book, watch TV, eat one of (S/N)'s sweets... But... It doesn't feel as special as when (Y/N) is around, and their sister definetely won't appreciate the last one.

The sound of little and hurried footsteps got his attention, yet he made no movements, already knowing who it is. He could hear some little grunts and huffs come from the kitchen, as if the girl is struggling with something. He allows it to continue for a little while but eventually makes his way to the kitchen, both curious to see what (S/N) is up to and to make sure she doesn't do anything silly, after all, kids aren't the most brilliant most of the time.

When Michael entered the kitchen, he was met with (S/N) attempring to get something from the upper shelf. She was holding her dino-grabber toy, using it to get whatever item she so desperately wanted, which would slip away and further into the shelf with each grab.

—"Come ooon, you 'dingus' thing."— she groans under her breath, probably not even knowing what 'disgus' means.

Michael silently observes the girl, she was so concentrated in her little mission that she didn't even notice him get progressively closer until standing right behind her.

When the item slipped so far that she couldn't even grab it with the toy, she lets out a frustrated groan and was about to climb the counter, but instead lets out a squeak when suddenly a large arm appeared above her. (S/N) instinctively backs away and presses herself into the kitchen counter as she shields herself with the toy.

—"S-Sorry! I'm so sorry for disturbing you! I- I got hungry and- a-and wanted to grab a poptart!"— she hurriedly says as she squeezes her eyes shut, as if expecting some severe punishment.

However, all she hears is faint rattle of something inside of a container and then a low grunt. She opens one eye and is met with Michael holding the whole box of poptarts in his hand and extending it towards her. A sense of dejavu invaded (S/N), flashbacks of their first meeting flashed before her eyes and the same sense of dread and danger formed inside of her, but this time she won't run away. She promised (Y/N) to stay strong, she will simply grab the stupid dessert and angrily look at him, just like (Y/N) always does!

But when she reached out and looked up at his masked face, her bravery dissolved like sugar in water. Michael just looks so big and intimidating all of the sudden-... His figure resembling so much the monster a child would imagine hidding in their closet. But still, the girl manages to tame her fears and take the box with her shaky hands.

—"I..."— she shrinks a bit. —"Thank you!"— she hurriedly exclaims before making a run out of the kitchen.

Michael merely looks at her direction, though he felt a small disappointment that the little girl was still so afraid of him, he can't really blame her or do anything about it, anything but to be grateful for this little interaction.

However...

—"Psst..."—

He only tilts his head at the little noise and (S/N)'s figure peeking out from the doorway.

—"Humm..."— she hesitates to speak at first. —"Do... Do you promise not to tell (Y/N) I left my room? They'll give me the scold of my life if they find out!"—

The man remains still for a little while, but eventually breaks his stillness with a little nod.

—"So is that a promise?"—

Another nod, which caused (S/N) to smile.

—"Thank you. Hey, we're almost like partners in crime! Doing forbiden stuff and then covering each other's back!"— she giggles at the thought and runs away into her room right after.

And ones again, Michael was left alone, but his time he was left with a warm feeling that made his chest feel both light and on ease. He's not sure what this emotion is, but he remembers feeling it in his childhood sometimes, mainly when he managed to make Angel smile with his own childish shenanigans, he always felt like a hero back then.

Now... It's hard to call him a hero, a monster or devil are more suitable names, but right now, for ones and after a long long time...

He didn't feel like one...

. . .

The rest of the day went like many previous ones (Y/N) returned, they nearly cried of relief that (S/N) was okay and wasn't hurt. And just like promised, no one told them about the little interaction the girl and the man had.

After the 'story-time session' ended and the little girl was asleep, (Y/N) returned to their usual spot next to their sister's room, though to their surprise, Michael wasn't in the hall waiting for them like he usually does... Nevertheless, that didn't stop them from taking their spot and wait, they knew he would come, he always does...

At this point they have no clue what his motives are, this doesn't seem like a simple paranoia of them contacting the authorities anymore, or a simple desire to be a jerk. Whatever enmity is going between them is something deeper, something more personal and sick, it's like this man is obsessed with them, but what kind of obsession? They don't know... And maybe don't want to know...

Eventually, the masked man does return to his spot but was met with a completely different scene. Yes, (Y/N) was there, but so was (S/N), who's gently putting a warm fluffly dinosaur blanket ot her sibling's sleeping form, doing her best to make it as cozy as possible. The little girl had a concerned expression, she knew that (Y/N) had barely slept due to the fear and worry of Michael doing something to her, the dark circles and the pale tone on their face only proving the unhealthy and tired state of her sibling.

It's a miracle that the girl didn't scream at the sight of Michael's giant figure and white mask staring at her from the dark, most likely the head tilt gave his identity away.

—"{S-Sorry.}"— she whispers, shifting from foot to foot with a guilty expression. —"{I know it's past my bed time, but I swear I can't fall asleep no matter how hard I try! I wanted to ask (Y/N) if we could watch something on their computer but...}"— she glances at your sleeping form.

Michael makes no movements, he's not quite sure why the girl is explaining herself to him, it's not like he will scold her, quite the opposite, it's really loable of her to take care of her sibling no matter what.

(S/N) then glances at the man, again hesitating to speak.

—"{Huummm... Do you just stay and stand there every night?}"—

Michael doesn't move at first, but then gives a little nod.

—"{All night?}"—

Another nod.

—"{Do you even sleep?}"— she furrows her brows a bit.

This time there is no answer.

The girl frowns a bit, sure Michael looks and acts freaky, but at the same time she feels sorry for him, something about his behavior is so sad and... Miserable. Is this why he's always tailing behind (Y/N)? Because they manage to make him feel happy and safe like they do with her? Or maybe because he wants to remember and feel how it's like to have an awesome and loving sibling? Or... Maybe he is just a big evil jerk that want's to do something bad to them... There's only one way to find out which one is the case...

—"{Michael?}"—

He tilts his head.

—"{Do... Do you... Do you want to hurt (Y/N)?}"—

A heavy silence falls upon them, even Michael's breathing was inaudible. (S/N) couldn't tell what's going on inside of his mind. Is he thinking? Is he annoyed? Waiting for her to drop the question or ask something else? Due to the lack of reaction, the girl starts to hesitate about her question and if she even wants to know the answer, what if he says 'yes' and kills both of them? (Y/N) said how cruel Michael can be, so sure he won't hesitate to hurt them.

Eventually, she recieves her answer; a shake of his head.

Relief flushes through (S/N), though that answer sparked another question...

—"{Then... Then why do you always follow them?... Do you feel... Lonely?}"—

Another wave of silence, but this one is less heavy since Michael wasn't staring directly at her form, but at the floor instead. The subtle tilt of his head was enough to hint the deep thinking going in his mind. And is right, Michael is thinking quite a lot. He stopped bothering to understand his obsession with (Y/N) and wouldn't think too much about following them, he just did it. But now... Now that he's forced to think about it for the first time, he realized it no longer feels like part of his unholy fixation on them, it feels more... He's not sure, but when he's with them he feels...

He nods slowly, his shoulders slump a bit after that.

(S/N) frowns sadly, her childish innocent mind quickly forgetting the things this man commited, maybe he isn't that bad, after all, (Y/N) told her how hard and unfair life was towards Michael, so... Maybe, if (Y/N) and her are kinder to him, maybe, just maybe, he'll be kinder to them too?...

—"{Michael...}"— she quietly says as she begin to walk towards him.

The girl stops right in front of his tall frame, the man tilts his head when she motions him to crouch down, but eventually he does. That's when, and without any warning, (S/N) wraps her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. The sudden contact made the man freeze completely, but he makes no effort to push the girl away. After a couple of solid minutes, his body starts to relax as he gives in into the little yet affectionate embrace.

The girl then leans closer to his ear, well, his mask's ear, but he sure heard her whisper...

—"{It's okay... I can be your friend.}"—

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #slasher x reader #gn reader #halloween

278 notes · View notes

puzzled-pegasus · 1 month ago

Text

Percy and Leo hcs because nobody frickin talks about them

Percy is a Staring Into Your Soul Audhd and Leo is a Avoids Eye Contact Audhd so when theyre in conversation percy will just be like 🟢_🟢 and it kinda freaks Leo out

They have literally the craziest conversations because both their hyperactive brains go all over the place and they just be saying shit

They say their intrusive thoughts out loud to each other sometimes and everyone around is like 😨

Sometimes when they both get mood swingy or overstimulated at the same time they have dumbass arguments and get grumpy at each other and then feel bad later and apologize

Both sensory seeking like crazy so togeyher they make the craziest food combos and eat em

Percy keeps extra sodas under his bed at camp and mostly theyre for him but he'll give them to his very good friends if they want some caffiene. He'd give one to any of the seven but Leo is his biggest taker

They never go to sleep at sleepovers they alwasy are like "ok we should go to sleep now" but then they keep telling stories and making dumb jokes until whoops it's 3:47 AM and neither of them have slept a wink

Leo and Percy and Piper all have a 7 year old's sense of humor when it comes to bathroom jokes

Piper and Leo also have a 12 yo sense of humor w sex jokes and Percy also laughs at those jokes but gets like flustered and it's hilarious

Percy n leo share fidgets with each other

I feel like they would start a crocheting hobby togetehr?? Idk

Both are pretty good at video games idk maybe theyd play together

Leo helps Percy w his math hw sometimes or like explains concepts to help him understand how it works

They have a running joke/quirky thing where they leave mini rubber ducks and other such fun knickknacks in each others space as a wholesome prank

They probably have a very silly secret handshake

Leo is sometimes very good at pulling out Percy's secret inner cringe/dork side by way of committing to his antics really hard and makijg the worst jokes and Percy can't help laughing even though he feels embarrassed as hell and it's such a good vibe lmaoo

Like it's very often that Percy has to hide his face in his hands after Leo makes a god awful joke because he feels so ashamed for laughing

Its good for percy tho cus he likes to be cool and tough skater boy and whatnot but yk hes just a dork ass nerd with a horrible sense of humor just like Leo

They tease and banter to each other like brothers sometimes trying to be as obnoxious as possibke but they're actually trying to show affection lol

#leo valdez #percy jackson #perleo #heroes of olympus #hoo headcanon #heroes of olympus headcanons

36 notes · View notes

helluvapurf · 20 days ago

Text

Thoughts on latest HB ep "Ghostf**kers" (*now that I've regained a bit more energy post-Halloween weekend lol*):

So the newest ep of HB has came & went from what I've seen- aaaand naturally feels like the best time for me to finally ramble about it now that its settled in my brain some more .3. Thoughts (+Spoilers) below~ NOTE: Most of this -does- get a lil rant-y below sooo... read at your own risk lol .w.;;

First things out of the way to start things off on a good note, the Pros:

To start off with... FINALLY we got some Millie focus for a major episode plot (-or more specifically, focus that doesn't get revolved back to Moxxie somehow lol)😭👏👏. Even if Millie's spotlight here did have to be shared with Blitz for a good chunk of the ep, their friendship was actually genuinely sweet & compelling to watch (esp. their backstory & how Millie was allowed to stand up for herself, give him space, BUT also coming around to acknowledging the good in Blitz, when it all came down to it🥺👏). Which ngl, after these previous episodes reigning down HARD on this dude... idk, just felt refreshingly wholesome to see for this series, yknow?😊

New villain Rolando was pretty cool, and surprisingly spooky to watch as the second-half went on oml- .o.;; While I'm still a teensy bit confused how his powers/demon lore work (at least to what we already know about Hell limitations crossing to the human world, ex. succubi & their crystals), his underwater monster vibe gave some fun visuals to watch up until the climax. I'm not 100% familiar with John Waters' works, but damnnn he should take up voice-acting more often ngl~ 👀

FINALLY MAMA TILLA MAKES AN (on-screen) APPEARANCE 😭😭Her whole vibe & Blitz's clear love and regret over what happened to her... hhhhh my whole heart ;n; 💔

That pink client lady (Rita, I think her name is?) who assigned the hotel mission? I dig her vibe, its cute~ :3

I.M.P. feeling like a legitimate workplace family for once, with even Loona & Moxxie getting a nice lil moment towards the end?? More. Of this. Please. 👌👌

Even with the lil undertones of the Stol*itz drama from the past couple eps, I very much appreciate Blitz (+the show itself) acknowledging that what's been going is NOT a breakup ('cause... yknow, they never actually dated to begin with lol🤷‍♀️). It may not 100% fix how messy that particular narrative's been handled as of late (which I'll get to in a sec-), but eh... its a start in the right direction, I guess? .3.

Enjoyed all the colorful flashback looks given, never would I have thought I needed mercenary!Millie with a fluffy ponytail til nowww hlkjlk😩❤️

Aaaand as for the not-so-good bits (imo), aka the Cons:

Pacing felt kiiiinda all-over-the-place, I'll admit; like one min we've got a whole intro & a half to deal with Blitz's whining fest (+some other pointless banter at the hotel)... then the next it feels like we're breezing past Rolando's whole presence as the "big bad" villain. Which... idk, I guess I shouldn't be too harsh on given the production drama behind-the-scenes (aka: the leaked content that had to be cut & redone awhile back)... buuuut yeah, its just one of those things you can't help but take notice of, critique-wise lol 🤷‍♀️

The humor wasn't... exactly at its strong point here, mainly just a lil overdone in the sex joke department imo though I guess thats kind of "par-for-the-course" in the Hellaverse series nowadays, so lol

Now, idk if this may be an unpopular opinion or not; but was I the only one who felt like Blitz's month-long mope fest over Stolas was rather... OOC, all things considered? .-. Like, okay its one thing for Blitz to still be (understandably) upset over how the last two eps went down (but being the "boss" he is, continues working anyway to keep I.M.P. afloat, like in the latest HB shorts)... but for Blitz of all people to just randomly use ALL his company's funds on useless junk, force his daughter Loona to stay up all night/not go home, drive Moxxie in a panic from all the budgeting issues this past month was just... wut- 🤦‍♀️ ...Mind you, this is meant to be the SAME Blitz who not even a few episodes ago begged Stolas to not take away the Grimoire (aka the key to his + his employee's livelihood), clearly being willing to do anything to not lose all that he holds dear. You seriously expect me to believe he'd be the type to throw that all away (for a WHOLE month)... all to simply whine over some blue-blooded bird not noticing him? ...Yeaaaaah sorry, but I'm gonna have to call bs on that, chief- 🙄

Kiiiinda tying in the last point, but as much as I enjoyed the tense thills gained from the "Rolando enters Blitz' mind to make him see his own flaws/past mistakes" sequence... I do have a few issues with some of these other "flashbacks" added to the mix: 1) Loona's groin kick towards Blitz in "Seeing Stars" (*wasn't Blitz's fault since ALL he did was tell her to be nice to clients... and was right about to apologize to Loona just seconds before the kick 😒*) 2) Blitz pushing Stolas' hand away in "Ozzies" (*which Blitz only did after Stolas hide his face/didn't defend Blitz during the song*) 3) Stolas' hurt expression at the end van scene of "Ozzie's" (*mind you, taking place while Blitz is rightfully standing up for himself/telling off Stolas for being a privileged creep all of S1*) 4) Stolas trying to present the Asmodean Crystal gift in "Full Moon" (*a whoooole mess in of itself I already covered prior-*) 5) Stolas angrily walking away from their pool fight + trash-talking Blitz in the "Motherf**kers" song + drunkenly dumping his problems on him + making out with a whole other dude in front of Blitz (*again, a huge mess I covered prior but TL;DR... most of that WASN'T fully-Blitz's fault in those instances??😑*)

Like... I dunno man, I don't mean to sound like I'm just ragging on Stolas per-episode as of late... but these last few points just keep giving me mixed signals than any genuine idea as to WHY Blitz even has these "feelings" growing for Stolas, atm?🤨For any canon couple in fiction, I WANT to see reasons for why they work best together, what kind of interests/aspects they've got in-common, what special "spark" is there that helps them stand out above all the other dynamics in-canon... but from what I see so far on Blitz's end (& the narrative continuing to guilt on him being "the problem")... it honestly feels more like he's only now fallen for Stolas out of pity... not because Blitz actually wants him for him, y'know? :/ Which... ngl, sounds like a really sad precedent to send for a main-endgame couple, regardless of series genre imo... 🤷‍♀️

-------

Soooo yeah, all that rant-y rambling aside... not a bad ep in the grand scheme of things! 👍👍Here's hoping the last few remaining eps (+possible shorts) for S2 keeps up the good work! 🙏

#helluva boss #hellaverse #helluva boss opinions #helluva boss review #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss critical #(*this ain't meant to be a full-on critical blog btw- but for this review in-partular... yeaah it may be best to just mark it as such lol*#(*I -did- still enjoy the ep nonetheless btw so don't be too mad pls TwT*)

31 notes · View notes

riddle-me-ri · 1 year ago

Text

A/N: what, no…no I don’t have a problem…again...I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is Instagram’s fault...again. Also I just…am really fond of the wearing significant other’s clothing…especially if said s/o is like…taller and bigger so when the smaller person wears it, it’s cute and wholesome…also I really dig the sweatshirt Miguel wears in the recordings with Gabriella, I like long-sleeved shirts in general but between the cool colors and the collar…I just really like it and want one in my own size lmao and just the overall concept art of him in casual wear makes me wanna give him his domestic life back rip

Trigger Warning: nothing explicit, just some teasing and touching

Word Count: 805

Miguel O'Hara x Reader - Something Borrowed

Miguel was absent all day at the Spider Society Headquarters and instead of moping and groaning about not having him around to mess with, you opted to be productive.

You gathered up all your clothes in the hamper and began taking off the clothes you wore now. Just so you had most of your wardrobe clean and available…until you noticed you have nothing else to change into.

Oops.

Your eyes darted between the clothes you discarded and your shared closet. You glance back to the closet and see a familiar blue and gray long-sleeved sweatshirt. The tiny ding of a lightbulb went off in your head.

Maybe, just maybe, you could still mess with your husband when he got home.

You snatched the sweatshirt off the hanger with a delighted grin on your face. Once you got the garment over your head, you couldn’t help but laugh.

The size difference was pretty hysterical. The end of the shirt went past your knees, and your arms and hands didn’t even make it to the cuff of the sleeves. You shrugged, bringing your head in, and giggled. You felt like a turtle shrinking its head back into its shell with how wide and tall the collar was.

When your face was buried inside the collar, your musings stopped. Your nose caught the homely and hearty scent of Miguel. Your body tingled as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to feel a sliver of warmth that Miguel’s body naturally radiates. You longed for his arms to be around you instead of your own.

You took a deep breath and exhaled. You released yourself from your hold and went back to the tasks at hand.

You hummed around the house. Twirling, dancing, and sliding around freely. Openly enjoying yourself while you finally managed to mark some to-dos off your list.

You got laundry started, dishes were put away, had a small internal conflict about dusting away the cobwebs that were being inhabited by a couple of spiders (you put them outside after a jerk flight or fight reflex).

You were so wrapped up in your chores and mini-concert that you didn’t notice someone entering the front door.

Miguel trudged in, exhausted, but surprised at seeing you sway around the house. Amused at the sight and you being distracted, he crossed his arms and leaned against the front door. Just waiting to see if you would notice him.

However, after watching you for a moment, he noticed something else too that didn’t click into his tired mind immediately.

“Is that my shirt?”

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest along with the shocked shrill you screamed.

“What the hell?! How long have you been standing there?”

“I think I asked a question first.”

“Miguel!”

“All right, all right, like five-ten minutes tops.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you, and I don’t have spidey senses.”

“Neither do I, mi cariño."

"Yeah, but you have heightened senses. I don't, so you shouldn't scare me!" You exclaimed as you playfully smacked his chest.

As you got closer, Miguel’s eyes drifted up and down your figure.

“You are wearing my shirt.” He remarked, answering his question.

You stood back and looked down, you were so busy you almost forgot your little stunt.

“Uh…yeah, uh laundry…I had to do laundry.” You answered plainly like the reason was simple.

“And you had nothing else?” Miguel murmured as his eyelids lowered.

“Nothing. I figured you wouldn't mind me borrowing it for the night." You shrugged innocently.

Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The palm of your hands rested on his chest.

He hummed. "Nope, don't mind at all."

You smiled up at him, you stood up on the tip of your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. Even with the slight comfort his shirt gave you, nothing compared to actually having him close to you.

You leaned in and your lips met in a soft sweet kiss. Miguel's grip tightened around your frame as his hands roamed your body and squeezed whatever skin he could grip. Which made him aware of something else.

He gently pulled away from your lips, causing you to look up at him confused.

"Are…are you wearing…just my shirt?"

Miguel's grip tightened unconsciously when you bit your bottom lip.

"Mmmaayybee…"

Miguel tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, you can't judge me. You put a lot of faith into a hologram suit every day in public."

Miguel chuckled as he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"I'm not saying anything, mi cariño. There's something I would…much rather do instead."

Which was the last thing he said before rushing you to your shared bedroom; while your laughter echoed through the home.

#ri writes #lemme know if y'all want a part 2 #it could happen tehe #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel o'hara x reader #atsv spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse x reader

212 notes · View notes

phoneuserhana333 · 1 year ago

Text

neighbor!abby au — critters roaming around the neighborhood

thank u so much for 100 followers :D i felt like doing a small character analysis for the neighbor!abby au, since i don’t feel very confident about the whole neighbor abby au. hope you enjoy :)

contains: ellie, dina, jesse

• ellie williams is known for her whacky and modern art, usually exhibited in queer showrooms located in hell’s kitchen. she’s dina and jesse’s high school best friend, and a huuuuuge fan of y/n’s work. has been following y/n since the beginning of her career and admires her so much, though she has developed a small parasocial relationship with the producer. ellie knows all the artists y/n has worked with, she’s listened to all of the songs with her name in the credits and follows her on all social media platforms. attending one of her parties was a dream come true. finding out that she’s dating that one ER nurse that she had beef with in college broke her.

• dina, on the other hand, works at the same label that y/n works at, she currently manages a few big names and jesse, an up-and-coming rapper, who also happens to be her ex boyfriend. she’s smart and sneaky, works well under pressure and always gives great advice. she introduced ellie to y/n after ellie begged her to come as her plus one. regular at y/n’s parties and a bit wary of abby; dina knows how hard it is to date when you’re semi-famous and doesn’t want y/n to make any mistakes. ends up really liking abby after y/n told her about their christmas escapades.

• jesse, jesse, jesse. also known as rapisnotjesse (stylized: RAPISNOTJESSE!). extremely talented and good at writing, loves attending parties and dresses weird- which is why he’s friends with out protagonist, y/n. he’s known for a meme song that went viral and his career has been going up since. jesse still has a small crush on dina, but he acts ‘cool’ about it. very silly, very wholesome. spoiler alert: he becomes a very famous asian-american rapper. good for him!

#ellie williams #abby anderson #dina woodward #jesse tlou #dina tlou #abby anderson x reader #tlou #ellie williams x reader #too lazy to tag the rest💔#dina woodward x reader #dina x reader

123 notes · View notes

eating-plastic · 3 months ago

Text

Anything For His Dear Tenant: Maison Talo x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, swearing, slight angst, implied fem reader, mentions of Maison eating someone, mentions of Maison wanting to eat your enemies lol, reader works at the gas station, basically you have a shitty day and Maison tries to make you feel better, emphasis on "tries" lol, it's sweet but simple ya know, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 3587 words

A/N: I know I know, I drool over this fudgin' house A LOT, but it's not always dirty stuff. Sometimes it's cute, wholesome I-want-him-to-comfort-and-love-me stuff. I got range...kinda...sorta...eh not really lol. After this, I'm not too sure if I'll write much for good ol House House. It sucks being obsessed with a character, but struggling to come up with ideas to write for them. So yeah, shameless reminder that I take requests lol. Not just for Maison, but any other character I have written for in the past. Anyhoo, that's all for now! See you!

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

Rapid footsteps slap against the pavement while a cool, summer breeze hits your face as you hurry down the sidewalk. Under normal circumstances, you would've acknowledged that it was a nice day and might've even cheered you up, but no, not today. Why? Because today was the worst day you've ever had. Not just a bad day, but a shitty, horrible, no-good day.

Who did you have to blame for this awful day you had? You didn't know where to begin, but you did know they all were at your "lovely" workplace. From rude, entitled customers pissed at you because you couldn't ring them up a second faster, to a group of...you don't even know what they were but they might as well be called tornados for the mess they caused in the aisles, to your asshole boss blaming you for every mishap that happened today; yes, even though you literally had another lazy, barely-there coworker that could've made everything easier if they actually did something.

And the cherry on top of this "tasty" sundae of a day, was said boss threatening to dock your pay for "your incompetence." What a delightful way to close your day.

Oh well, at least the sight of a familiar "for sale" house seemed to bring your spirits up. If you weren't so mentally drained, you would've smiled as you dragged yourself up to the front door and let yourself in.

"Maison?" you call as you lean up against the door, but are met with complete silence. You glance down at your feet and notice his lure cord leading out the door, making you sigh. Of course, you were so miserable and desperate to leave your hell-on-earth job that you didn't notice it.

You sigh and make your way into the living room. You just stand in the empty room for a moment before all of the misery and stress just comes crashing down upon you. You throw yourself onto the couch and sob into your arms.

You quickly found out that living and working in the Uncanny Valley wasn't going to be easy, sure. You've had your fair share of bad days, but those were delightful compared to this.

While wallowing in your emotional turmoil, you suddenly feel something touch your head making you jump up and look around, startled. You turn to glance up at the ceiling to see a red, fleshy tentacle tilting itself like a dog would tilt their head in curiosity. Slowly, it moves itself back to your head to gently pet it.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh and lay back down to rest your chin on your crossed arms. You do have to admit that it does help a little bit as you close your eyes and take deep breaths.

A soft buzzing noise causes your eyes to flutter open and turn your attention to the source: your phone in your back pocket. You pull it out and look at the screen seeing that you got a text message from Maison.

Are you alright?

You type up your short, straight-to-the-point message back.

No. Not really.

You sit and watch as the bubble with three little dots pops up, waiting for the next message.

I see. I'll be back soon, but not alone. Just be patient my dear. I bought you that iced tea that you like. Why don't you pour yourself a glass and sit outside for a little while? I'll be with you after I eat. I love you.

You let out another sigh and sit up, shooting him your own "I love you" message. The red tentacle that was petting your head moves to pat you on the back, telling you to get going. With that, you pull yourself up and go to do just as your beloved REALTOR asked of you.

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

Maison didn't like to be impatient when it came to getting food, at least when he didn't have to be, but seeing you so upset made him feel antsy to take care of you. Surely you understand just how special you are to him. He has been around for many many years and he can't remember if he's ever found someone that he loves as much as you.

He loves the new purpose you've brought into his life. He loves making you happy and taking care of you. Loving you. That's why the "buyer" he had found couldn't be mad at him for practically shoving him into his house form. He's normally not so pushy and rude, but they must understand he had more important matters that needed his attention.

Once all of that was taken care of, he made his way back outdoors to a little patio in the backyard. There he saw you, sitting at a little table under an umbrella scrolling absentmindedly through your phone and a half-empty glass of iced tea in front of you. It was a nice little place for you to hang out in the situation that you didn't have anywhere you needed to or would like to go when Maison had to eat.

You hear the sound of his footsteps, pulling your attention away from the device in your hand, not that it had much of it to begin with. He makes his way behind your chair and gently rests his hands on your shoulders, causing them to relax.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, concern evident in his voice.

"...Not really," you mumble.

Maison nods and continues to rub your shoulders, thinking. He knew that the cause of your distress was that dreadful workplace of yours. He truly doesn't understand why you waste your precious time and sanity there. First of all, it wasn't like you had to worry much about bills; you had such a lovely house with all the amenities completely free. And if it was things like food or things that weren't necessities, then he could easily buy those for you. Being around for so long has caused him to accumulate a fair bit of wealth from previous "buyers" that he hardly spends on himself.

Yet still you go work and he is treated to your occasional rants about every person that causes you grief. Those rants he can put up with, but knowing that those wastes of space made you cry, his darling tenant, was just unacceptable.

While he isn't one to compromise his "ethics" and "standards" as the number 1 REALTOR in the Uncanny Valley, still deeming the act of snatching up "potential buyers" as barbaric, let's just say that he would be willing to conveniently set aside those values of his if the opportunity presented itself if it meant getting rid of someone that didn't deserve to breathe the same air as you-

No no no, he shouldn't be thinking about that, at least not right now; that'll be an idea for another time. Right now, he needed to take care of you, and he had a plan. A delightful plan that will make you see how he can provide you anything your little heart desires and how you will never have to worry about working another day in your life.

"Hmm...I may know something that will help take your mind off of things," he says in a way that he knows will intrigue you.

"Really?" you ask and turn around in your chair to look up at him. "What?"

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

The mall in the Uncanny Valley was the strangest place that you had ever visited on the island, though now, after living there for some time, you see that it fits in with the rest of the oddities. While most areas are bustling and full of open shops, there are random areas that are empty and decrepit as if the building was abandoned. These areas were always barred off by chain link roller shutters, and if you look through them long enough, you swear you see the shadows of people moving within these restricted areas. To make things even more peculiar, these areas were never consistent; what may have been a barred-off area or store one day, would be opened and fully stocked the next. And don't even get me started on the mannequins that always turn their heads to look at you no matter where you are in the store.

All in all though, you found it to be a pretty nice shopping center.

You and Maison enter and stand in the large atrium that always greeted you no matter which set of doors you used to get in.

"Here," he smiles and hands you a small card.

It gives you a flashback to when you first met him until you notice that this card is nothing like the one with his number on it. This one was blue, made of plastic, and had symbols on it that you didn't recognize. Based on the way that they are arranged, you can deduce that it's a credit card with a name on it that was definitely not Maison's.

"Why don't you go treat yourself, hm?" he says, patting your back. "Any little thing that catches your eye, anything that you want, you get."

You stare up at the tall REALTOR in disbelief. Sure, he wasn't shy when it came to spoiling you, often giving you gifts that were on the expensive side. But actually letting you lose and allowing you to buy anything you wanted felt...wrong.

"I...I don't know, Maison. This is nice, really but-" you begin, trying to hand the card back to him.

"Nonsense," he interrupts. "I insist, really my dear. Go on, you deserve it. I'll be right here when you're done."

He gives you another smile, this one more reassuring as he pushes the card back toward you. With that, you hesitantly turn to actually check out the many shops that fill the large building.

You feel so out of place while you wander around, glancing in store window after store window. You've never felt this much financial freedom before. You don't even know how much money is actually on the credit card in your pocket, though from Maison's words. it sounded like there was a very fair amount on it.

Augh, you still feel bad if you buy something super expensive though. Maybe you'll just stick with the few stores you like and only buy something as long as it is reasonably priced. Yes, that sounds like the best plan. Besides, you can tell that Maison will be disappointed if you don't buy at least one thing for yourself.

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

You make your way back to the mall's entrance with a few bags dangling off your arms. There wasn't anything too fancy in them, just some clothes that caught your eye, some nice smelling perfume, and a couple of books. You even bought a book for Maison by one of his favorite authors; a small thank you, though you know it really doesn't make up for this little shopping trip entirely.

When you get to the atrium, you spot your beloved REALTOR sitting on one of the benches and on the phone with someone. You quicken your pace toward him, hoping that you aren't keeping him for another meal for himself. It seems like perfect timing as when you get close enough, he hangs up. He then looks up and his expression brightens when he sees you.

"Ah, there you are. I see you've found something nice," he says, motioning to your bags.

"Uh yeah, thank you, really," you reach into your back pocket for the credit card and return it to him, an action that's a bit awkward due to your bags. "I'm not keeping you from a 'potential buyer' am I, Maison?"

"Hm, oh no, not at all, my dear," he waves his hand dismissively and stands up. "I have a surprise for you. Come along, now. I want you to have enough time to get ready."

"Another surprise? Maison, this was all enough. Isn't that a bit much-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off again and wraps an arm around you to usher you both out of the mall. "You know nothing is too good for my darling tenant."

He smiles down at you, which you return with your own small, but forced one. You really don't want to feel ungrateful, but you can't help but feel more distressed than excited for your surprise.

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

Maison stands by the front door waiting for you to finish getting ready. The surprise he had planned for you was a nice, very expensive dinner and one of the few higher-end restaurants in the Uncanny Valley. After all, he wasn't going to let you cook after the day you had.

Sure, he could take you anywhere, but being the number 1 REALTOR in the Uncanny Valley, he's always been a fan of the more finer things in life, which he extended to you. You are perfection in his eyes, therefore he believes you also deserve nothing but the best. Unfortunately, that means he misinterprets your discomfort towards his grand gifts as you just being humble.

The sound of your approaching footsteps makes him look up and see you standing before him, wearing a gorgeous dress in your favorite color; one of the many gifts he has gotten you since you two had started dating.

"Ah, my dear, you look stunning," he smiles and takes your hand into his own, raising it to his lips to plant a kiss to your knuckles. Despite your dread at what Maison had planned for you and why it required you to dress formally, a little affection never failed to make your face heat up and pull a small giggle from you. "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. You still haven't told me where we're going though."

"Well of course. That beats the whole point of a surprise, love," he jests. "Now come along, I would hate for us to be late."

Maison opens the front door to usher you outside and into the evening air. While you both walk to your destination, you try to distract yourself from your curiosity by taking the beautiful sunset. It's times like this that can sometimes make you forget that the Uncanny Valley is a place of oddities and some life-threatening anomalies.

"Here we are," Maison announces, pulling you back to reality and realizing you both are now downtown and standing in front of a pretty fancy looking restaurant.

"Why are we here?" you ask, genuinely confused. "I mean, it's not like you can really...eat anything while you're here."

"I know I know, but why is that any reason for you to not enjoy it?"

When you both enter the establishment, the hostess standing in the entranceway actually does a doubletake when she spots the tall REALTOR at your side. Sure it wasn't too uncommon for some REALTORS to get takeout every once in a while, but it was extremely rare to see Maison anywhere near a restaurant (save for the odd fish sandwich every now and again). Still, she tries to be polite and professional despite her shock. Even the waiter you two get...er, more like you get since Maison turns down a menu for himself (for many reasons), can't seem to get over him being there.

Trying to find something that looked both appetizing but also not too pricey was a challenge for you. You didn't think that it was possible for a single meal to cost over $100. Even when you do finally settle on something, you still feel like you got something that was too much money even if it was delicious. You try to get down as much of your food that you can as you don't want it to go to waste, but that too was not an easy feat due to your stomach twisting and turning inside you for the past hour. All the while, Maison talks about something but all words go in one ear and out the other since you are so focused on trying not to puke.

When the waiter returns to your table with the bill, you watch as your beloved REALTOR just sets his credit card on the table and slides the two off to the side like it's nothing. You don't even see him glance at the price, but what he does finally see though, is just how uneasy you look.

His face drops at that. He doesn't get it, why do you still look so upset? He thought you would've forgotten all about the nasty day you had. Did he not try hard enough?

Once your meal has been paid for, he leads you out of the restaurant, shooting a small "goodnight" back at the hostess who greeted you two. Once in the cool, night air however, he holds you close to his side and guides you away from anyone who might eavesdrop on your private conversation.

"What's wrong, love?" he asks, turning you to face him.

"What? Nothing. I'm fine, everything's fine," you squeak out way too fast than you would've liked. If that doesn't give away the fact that you were lying, then the fact that your eyes were looking at everything but Maison does.

"No, you're not. Come now, dear you can tell me what's wrong," he gently turns your face to him. The concerned look in his eyes makes you sigh and confess.

"I know you don't mean to do this, and I know you meant well with today, but...I'm just not comfortable accepting big, expensive...things...," you explain while absentmindedly wringing your hands.

"I...I suppose I do overdo it sometimes. But you understand why I do it, right?" he takes your hands into his, squeezing them tightly.

"I do. I know it's just because you love me-"

"More than that," he interrupts before pulling you closer. "You are very very special to me. All I want is for you to be happy, which is why I can't stand you constantly dragging yourself back to that dreadful job of yours. I can't stand you constantly putting up with people who don't deserve to be in your presence. I was hoping that after today you would've seen that you don't need to put up with it anymore."

"I...I know, but...," you take a deep breath when you realize just what you are going to say. "As Ironic as it sounds...I've never been able to live a stable life before here. And anytime it felt like I'd finally achieve some sort of stability, it was always ripped away from me. That's why I still work, despite how horrible the days may be. I'm terrified that that will happen again, even though I know how unlikely that is now."

Maison is silent for a moment before he takes you in his arms and rests your head against his chest.

"Oh my sweet tenant, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I didn't want to seem ungrateful. Besides...it's really not something I like to think about. I guess it really doesn't matter if I'm constantly afraid of it though, huh?" you mumble out as a half-hearted joke.

"Does that job of yours even quell your fear? Is it even worth it?" he questions while petting your hair. "Anything that drives you to tears does not deserve your time and sanity. If you wish to keep working, then do it at another job. Just know that until then, I will be able to provide for you...however you'd like me to."

You pull away to look up at Maison, seeing his gentle eyes and smile are enough for you to give him your own, this time not forced.

"I...I'm gonna give it one more try, but that's it. If I have one more horrible day, then I'll quit and look for someplace new. How does that sound?" you beam.

"I think that sounds wonderful. Although you should know that I'll hold you up on that," he jests, making you giggle. "Now, why don't we head back and do something that we should've done in the beginning, hm?"

"Really, what's that?"

"Well if I remember correctly I believe there's a new episode of that show you like that's on tonight. Now tell me, how does that sound?" he parrots from your promise.

"I think that sounds wonderful," your smile grows wider and you slowly lean your face closer to his. Maison mirrors you and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

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

Despite the roller coaster of a day you had, having it end with your head resting on Maison's lap while you watch your favorite tv show makes up for it. While he's not paying attention, he's not that interested in television, he's more than content reading the new book you got him and playing with your hair.

He's not too pleased with the fact that you aren't quitting your job immediately, but knowing that you will do it soon is enough for him. Besides, it was the weekend after all, you have a little more time to think about it and change your mind. He also knows that he will have to try holding back when it comes to spoiling you, at least until you become more comfortable with it, but if it means keeping you happy then so be it. He'll do anything to keep you happy.

He'll do anything for you, his dear tenant.

#house hunted #house hunted game #house hunted x reader #maison talo #maison talo x reader #x reader #rita writes

30 notes · View notes

ilovefoodandslasherswithmasks · 17 days ago

Text

So I had an idee for a cute Eddie x reader ff, and I had to write it, so I'm sorry the requests haven't really been doing it for me. But I promise I'll do my best to write and post those next♡ I just really, really needed to write this. This will also be a series in the future. Less likely to be spicy I think I'll keep this one wholesome 🦦

Reader is described as feminine. But if you want just imagine something different, like different clothes etc. Ummm basically strangers to friends to enemies to friends.

Y/n used a few times and will be used in the next parts as well.

More to come. There's some slight angst but mostly it's quite cute. Also some inappropriate thinking and actions of side characters. But nothing to triggering.

Lab Partners.

Experiment: crush or love?

Coming to Hawkins was weird.

You weren't only a very unique person, but your style differed from most people.

Not only that, you weren't a rude person, not a popular girl or smth like that.

Both nice or rude when you thought was fitting, first approach was always nice and gentle. If someone didn't deserve it you made all hell break lose.

Walking into high school was weird.

Glances from the shadows, the quiet kids hoping you'd be taking their place as a punching bag.

Jocks and other group of guys, showing zero shame checking you out.

Wearing a low waist pair of jeans, a slightly cropped, long sleeve shirt. Your hair styled the way you enjoyed. Not the type to go for those trends like the perm.

Walking past a group of metal heads who punched eachothers arms when you skilled gently. Typical honestly. Cute but basic.

Making your way to the head teachers office, who by the way, was a friend of your parents, much to your dismay cause he'd give you 'special attention' for the next year.

Huffing in exhaustion when you left his office with your schedule, locker number and all the shit you needed to survive around here.

"Old freak.." you mumbled as you looked for your locker.

Lost. Honestly so lost. How could a locker be so hard to find? Yeah well apparently these lockers had no numbers on them.

"Greattt" you say staring at the lockers on the wall.

"Where the hell is number 69....seriously he gave me 69? Out of all the lockers he gives me the one locker that will give me more unwanted attention?" You grumble as you walk down the hall, decided to leave the locker for later and to try to find your first class. Fucking science...

A groan left you when you walked straight into the wrong hallway.

"Oh come on!" You loudly exclaim turning to walk the other way to come face to face with some curly headed guy. Shit was he hot?

"Uhm....you new huh?" He asked. Did his voice have a rasp?

"Uh yeah can't find science class....or my locker..or the girls toilets to escape through the window." You say. Soon feeling embarrassed about the words you let out. You could've flirted but noooo.

"Mh well I'm headed for science....maybe I can help you with the locker problem..but the girls- well the toilets Don't got windows..so your great escape won't happen" he said playing with a strand of hair, his arms slightly folded over his chest as he stared and started to tug at his bottom lip after dropping the hair....gosh..

"Thanks" you say as he walks ahead. You follow silently. Seriously you couldn't get the guts you usually had to ask him questions? Not even his name.

You sigh as you step into the class he fond a seat as did you seated at the free tables. Next to you was an empty chair. Which would probably stay empty.

You could hear the whispers and whistles when you sat down. The teacher came in, a women. Cool.

"Hello Class I'm Miss Newcas. I'm your science teacher for the year. First I'd like to ask you all to find a lab partner for today's lesson!"

Great, great fucking great. You probably won't find a lab mate. All people started to bustle around. You thought no one would wanna sit with you the way they seemed to do with the cute guy...but the jocks started to shove eachother trying to get the seat next to you. Right. See how easy the new girl is and who gets her first. Great.

At that thought you grab your bag and books and make your way to the curly heads table, casually sitting down next to him the entire class falling silent.

You could feel him stare at you as you placed your books down, zipping your bag up to grab your pencil case.

You sat back up straight, turning to him finally smiling brightly.

"Ohh right the names Y/n" with a gentle smile and a little tug of hair behind your ear he introduced himself back faintly and quietly.

"Eddie.."

"Mh nice to get to be your lab partner today Eddie"

A few hushed whispers about how being around him would be your doom reached your ears but you didn't care.

Miss Newcas was busy writing something down.

"Okay, so I know some of you didn't get to partner with who you wanted to. And I lied. Your Lab mate will stay your lab mate for the rest of the year. And before you try to change seats or something I'll have you know I wrote down your names and who you're seated with..oh new girl I need your name."

She said gently, she was sweet but you just knew she could be a pain. Or so the rest of the students here felt like that about her.

"It's Y/n" you almost grew anxious when a guy moaned your name. Obviously the people here, well the boys, were the same as in every school.

"Okay. Nice to meet you! I hope you find yourself to enjoy coming to school here."

"Thanks." Not wanting to engage to much with her knowing it would make you the teachers pet right away. First day, no need for that.

When Miss Newcas vanished for a second you felt a gentle nudge from your lab mate.

"You really shouldn't be my lab Partner..trust me, no good comes from it"

"Why?"

"I'm not called Eddie the freak for nothing."

"Ohhh so people like to pick on you? Okay so what does that have to do with me wanting to be your lab partner? You've been nice to me right away."

"That's not-"

"Hey Y/n!" One of the jocks called from the back.

"If you want a good time The Freak ain't the one to go to!" You smiled sweetly at him as you turn to look at the guy.

"Oh yeah? I'm already having a better time talking to him than I do with you after just one sentence. I feel rather disgusted by your voice!" You say all cheery which gains a lot of surprised gasps and also some giggles from the rest of the class. It wasn't usual for someone to stand up or straight up reject and humble one of the popular people.

"Frankly 'the freak' turns out to be nicer than you even though I only talked so little to him.

I suppose you really are who you hang out with"

With that you turn back to Eddie, about to ask him more about him but a metal plate with a frog is placed infront of you. Which makes you tense..you thought this shit was only for the younger kids to do?

"So today you'll be dissecting a frog and then you and your lab partner will write down the words on the lines. Like where's the heart and all. We're gonna do this so I see what level you're on."

You take a deep breath as you started to bounce your right leg. Nervous, the teacher started to hand out the scalpels. One per table..and she gave it to you.

"The person I handed the scalpel to has to be the one to open the frog. The other one then gets to find the organs and say where each is. The one who cut the frog will write down the words on the lines. "

Your hand tremble as you looked at the frog, you're not made for this shit! You didn't care about gore in movies..but this shit. Nuh uh.

"You okay?" Eddie asked gently looking at you playing with the pick around his neck.

"Yeah..just this goes against what I believe in-"

"What?"

"I'm sorry that was a lie I'm just..I can't do this"

You could hear the teacher say the directions on how to place the scalpel and how deep to cut. Also told a lot of students to use the gloves that she handed out for a reason.

You placed the scalpel down grabbing the gloves and pulling them on. Stretching your fingers before picking up the blade again. Breathing coming to a stop as you held it over the frog.

"I can't...fuck.."

You flinch when his right hand wraps itself around yours. Your head whips to look at Eddie who gently looks at you.

"Close your eyes..keep them closed till I tell you to open them" usually you found it hard to trust but for some reason, you trusted this stranger. You imidiatly closed your eyes, turning your head slightly. A jolt of disgust coursing through you when you felt the skin first create a feeling of a certain resistance making it awfully aware that the blade was pushing into skin, a surface keeping it away from the guts before it suddenly penetrated the frog. Pushing in and slicing down. Shit was it off putting.

"Okay" he gently said letting go of your hand when he placed it back on the table.

You drop the scalpel onto the plate, taking off the gloves, wiping the sweat on your jeans before you grab the pencil and just stare at the paper.

"Okay so um, line one is the lungs..line two the heart" scribbling down what he said not even glancing at the frog. Glad Eddie didn't mind it. He even went and covered the frog with paper towels after the paper had all the required words on the right lines.

Surprised to know that all the words found the right lines. I mean no offense you expected him not to get them all right.

When the bell finally rang you grabbed your stuff, Eddie waited.

"You don't need to wait for me"

"Need to show you your locker sweets"

"Right!"

Sweets...the hell did that make you feel your heart throb. Surely, he was attractive but you wouldn't start crushing..right?

He leads you to your locker after the snort he let out when you gave him the number.

Which had you call him childish. But really it made it a bit more bearable to be new here. A first friend, on the first day.

Just as he was bout to 'leave you to it' you couldn't help yourself.

"Hey um..would you like to go see a movie this weekend? Like uh as a thanks for whatever that was"

"Oh, nah don't worry you don't got to thank me"

Ouch, you felt your smile drop slightly, this felt a lot like imidiate rejection.

"Oh okay..well I'll see you around then" smiling a little brighter again before turning to head to English class. You were just grateful he explained how to find your way around school. You couldn't possibly manage the awkward silence of him leading you to class after he shut you down.

When Eddie realized how that must have sounded like he turned to call after you but you had already vanished down the hall.

"Way to screw things over with a cute girl.." he mumbled before finding his own class.

The rest of the day was fine. Turns out both you and Eddie had history together as well as ethics. Which was nice. Also a bit weird because you tried to avoid him which made those classes a bit uncomfortable.

Let's just say you got to know new people, you befriended a girl named Chrissy, who first you were scared might be mean given she's a cheerleader. But you found yourself to be wrong after she stood up for you to one of the other cheerleaders.

One thing leed to another. Here you were conversing with the popular kids. Hanging with Chrissy and her boyfriend and friends in lunch, totally not fitting in but also quiet at peace at the table with them.

Well before Eddie said something over the entire cafeteria that stuck to you.

"Or the popular guys, betting who gets to screw the new girl first!"

You didn't expect that from him..I mean yeah you kinda ignored him outside of classes and found a new crowd..but that really hurt.

The moment those words echoed over the cafeteria you tensed, Jason screamed back telling him to fuck off. But you just got up and walked out of the cafeteria, Chrissy called after you but you really couldn't care right now.

The week finally ended and the weekend started, Chrissy called you up asking you to come to the mall with her which you gladly accepted. You needed some therapy shopping.

Surprised when she told you she didn't want to go with any of her other friends because they seemed judging even around her. The entire 8 hours the both of you spent laughing and whispering about boys,went by fast. She learned you thought Eddie was cute, but that you grew sad when he called that thing the other day.

Which turns out she was also surprised by saying that wasn't his style.

The day ended with the both of you getting ice cream before she dropped you off at home. Now another day till Monday.

Till science class..till Eddie Munson.

Trying to push away the feeling of betrayal as you wash the new clothes. And put away the new cds.

You ended up doing your homework, your window open as Mötley Crüe blasted through your room. (As you noticed. I like this band lmao, so now, you do too)

You hung up the new clothes to dry a fee hours later. Grabbing the new, red dress that was thigh long, and had an extra layer of mesh on top that had light lacy like details. It was pretty. It also looked great on you, Chrissy loudly swooned when you left the changing room to show it to her. Honestly it made you blush. You weren't particularly used to supportive friends.

You found sleep harder than usual when the morning showed through your blinds you found yourself wanting to call Chrissy and to hang out. But you also didn't want to seem clingy so you set your phone back down. Hours later she actually called first asking to get some cafe cause she had a bad fight with her mother.

You obviously didn't say no, so now you both sat in a cute and cozy Café talking about what happened. Chrissy kept apologizing for bothering you but you insisted you were happy she trusted you with it.

When you returned home from the hours of talking and the last conversation about you both not knowing what to wear to school which resulted in her insisting for you to wear your new dress and that she'd wear the green one that she got.

Not really matching but she wanted you to shine when you encountered Eddie in class tomorrow. Just for the reason of 'showing him you didn't care'.

Monday came way faster, the night you basically passed out after drinking lavender tea.

So the morning showed up to make you anxious. Mostly because you didn't want him to think you dropped him for the popular kids. But then again you were to proud and hurt to talk to him. And you probably wouldn't talk to him in class too.

You got ready and slipped on the dress adding some fitting sneakers to it to keep it from looking to chic.

The bus ride to school was alright, less students than usual, your headphones on as the sun burned against your skin already.

Today would be warm.

When you made it to your locker, pushing past the crowd. Which seemed to have gotten more since last week.

Ignoring the way some boys barked compliments after you as you headed to science. You honestly wanted only one guys compliments..and it made you feel more pathetic that you still cared what he thought. Well he made it clear what he thought. So when you made it to class. Walking through the door to see the table empty you let out the air that got stuck in your chest. Sitting down grabbing your pencil, doodling in your text book before you heard someone stumble into the chair next to you, glancing over he stood next to you awkwardly holding the chair keeping it from crashing onto the ground. You roll your eyes, mostly unwillingly before you turn your head away. Staring out the window, twirling your pen in your fingers, you could feel him stare and hear him clear his throat, you also hear him sigh when he didn't get your attention.

Eddie felt bad for what he barked over the cafeteria, at the same time he was to proud to apologize. He also felt like he got replaced by the other people way to fast.

He didn't know you actually looked forward to science till he did that.

Miss Newcas walked in pushing the projector before she looked over the class. She noticed the 'weird behavior' between the two of you and she honestly didn't know why she felt upset. You seemed to be a good influence on Eddie, she didn't remember the last time he actually cared about his lab partner. So she decided to chance the entire lesson.

"Okay so...today you'll get to know your lab mate. It seems some people here don't seem to fond of eachother. Maybe that'll change when you get to know one another and see the other as more human. I want you to write 10 likes and dislikes on a paper. I'll check if you did it. Then I want you to keep the paper for the rest of the year so you and your lab mate actually get along for the time."

Seriously? Today of all days? The sigh you released ended up louder and sounding more annoyed than you had planed. You shifted in your seat looking at him to see him already staring at you. Tapping his pen against the sheet of paper he seemed to think.

"You ask me first" is all you say before he sits up straighter. Starting to ask you stuff like your favorite color. Hobbies etc.

He felt more than happy hearing you enjoyed Mötley Crües music, he started to believe maybe he could fix this.

Before it was your turn to ask questions.

You asked him 9 questions. The same he asked you. It was going well or so he thought because the last question you asked left him in slight disbelief.

"Do you usually humiliate people you don't know infront of the entire school? Oh wait let me word it differently. Do you enjoy humiliating people you don't know infront of the entire school, and do you enjoy hurting their feelings with that?"

Let's say you grew tired of the bullshit. And the petty side of you might have gotten the upper hand there. But honestly? He didn't deserve better.

"No....I don't.. listen Y/n-"

"Done. No more questions, stop talking to me." Is all you hiss back slamming your pen down before turning back to look out the window.

He really screwed up. But you chose them over him? So what gave you the right to be upset about this? Okay well he knew he over did it with that comment but he didn't know better. Eddie felt hurt, he thought you'd end up good friends...maybe more. Just for you to talk less to him in class and more with your new friends. You both already didn't talk a lot outside of that one science class last week, the rest of the week were small conversations and awkward word exchanges. First you sat alone in the cafeteria, Eddie was going to ask you to sit with them but the next day after you and Chrissy talked in history he found you at the popular table. Abandoned is what he felt like, like you didn't care and replaced him so easily. Not sure why he wanted to be mean to you, he liked you more than he liked to admit and you leaving the cafeteria the way you did after he called that out. The guilt he felt then, he never felt before. He never cared about calling people out, but he also knew that was way to uncalled for.

When the bell rang you grabbed your things and were about to leave, the both of you ended up being the last ones to leave.

"Y/n please just hear me out!"

Trying to walk past him before he gently grabbed you by the waist pulling you back, pushing you to sit down in a seat that was right behind you.

"God please stop ignoring me...I get it okay! I never should have said that...just I was upset you replaced me"

You scoff, you planed to forgive him if he said sorry but he didn't manage to do that.

"Oh so you humiliated me because you felt replaced? How childish is that! What kind of excuse is that?! You could've talked to me about it but decided to make me look like an idiot and not only that you made my new friends look like bad people-"

"Because they are!" He says, his voice slightly raised as he sounded more upset.

"It's not your problem if they make a bet on who fucks me first! IT'S NOT YOUR PROBLEM IF I LET ONE OF THEN WIN OR NOT TOO"

You never planed to let one of those guys hook up with you, but you felt hurt and upset and it also seemed like it would punish him if you actually did let one of them get you under the sheets.

The surprise gasp you let out when he trapped you between the table and his body sounded more like a strangled whine. He glared down at you and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. The twinkle in your eyes as you looked up at him, the way your eyes searched his face. He felt the way his heart picked up in speed. He felt the way he wanted to kiss you, let you see why he felt upset about the thought that one of those assholes actually got to you.

"Don't say shit like that....listen what I called across the cafeteria, they do that. They do that do all the new girls...I was trying to look out for you..okay I might have done it the wrong way...but I promise I didn't mean to hurt you with it"

"Oh yeah?" The mock in your voice felt more like a slap to his cheek then a nudge.

"So instead of telling me to be careful alone you had to bark it out to the entire school? You know that doesn't make them look bad but it makes me look like I'm easy"

"I didn't mean to-"

"Well you did thou!"

You almost found it attractive when he sighed and pushed his hair out of his face. Eyebrows knitted slightly before he closed his eyes taking a deep breath in.

Your eyes fell to his lips before he opened his eyes again. He was going to speak up before he saw the way you stared down. Not at his eyes but his lips. He licked them, he didn't want to it just happened. It felt like his instincts took over.

"Im sorry okay? I never wanted you to feel that way, honest!"

Sighing, pushing away your thought's your eyes found his again, his looked different that before. Still the same but still slightly different.

"I didn't replace you. I was looking forward to science class till you did that.."

"Right....I screwed it"

"You did"

Awkward silence filled the whole classroom and ended up with him pulling away standing infront of you.

"So like...are we good?" You almost giggled at the way he looked like a small puppy.

"Yeah I suppose. Unless you pull that shit again!"

"I won't. I promise"

"Right can I get your number?" He asked after a few seconds. Which made you feel butterflies flutter.

"Why? You wanna call me when you miss my voice?" You planed to tease him but when he flirted back it slammed a deep blush across your face.

"Who knows. Maybe I'll need to hear your voice when I'm feeling especially frustrated and pent up"

"I-"

You huff grabbing a pen and rip a piece of paper off your textbook writing your number down pushing it against his chest before rushing out the classroom.

The rest of the day had you more than embarrassed, you told Chrissy in maths what had happened. And before lunch he stood behind you while you put your things away. Scaring you when you turned around to see him right there.

"Jeez Eddie! Scared me half to death!"

"Sorry, sorry....um do you want to sit with me and my friends in lunch?"

"Oh yeah but I should let Chrissy know I won't eat with her today.."

"Right..."

"Hey I promise I'll sit with you okay?"

He just nodded.

"Catch you in the cafeteria then?"

"Yeah see you there."

You basically sprint down the hallway to Chrissys locker, her telling Jason to head off first when she saw you.

"He asked me to sit at his table"

"Well you have to!"

"I know. But what if his friends don't like me? Or like if they judge me and think I'm just a popular girl looking for nothing but popularity or that I'm fake?"

"You're the least fake person I know. And I know a lot of people, you're so sincere. They'll see it too."

"Okay..yeah"

"Go get em!"

You hug her before you walk to the cafeteria. In the cafeteria line you see Eddie at his table already the entire table seemed full. Where would you sit?

You take the food from the women before you head to the table standing next to Eddie as he looks up at you smiling brightly. His gaze drifting to Mike and Dustin. The entire row moved down a seat. Making space for you to the right of Eddie. He gestures for you to sit down his eyes glistening as he stared at you, he noticed the dress this morning and in the hall the entire day. But you looked so beautiful.

"I could have taken a seat down the row...you didn't have to move" you gently tell the boys that sat down the table. They shake their head telling you they didn't mind.

"So."

Eddie started.

"What made you wear a dress today? You didn't wear a dress last week."

"Um well, breaking news, I can wear a dress even when I rarely wear dresses" you say, almost like you were making fun of him.

"Yeah...well you look good in it. You should wear dresses or skirts more..."

The faint blush that covered both of your faces didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the table.

"Sooo...who is the new girl. Didn't she sit with the popular folk last week? She doesn't belong here" said a guy with shorter curly hair. Man he really didn't sound happy to have you here and the glare he send your way just proved it.

"Shut it Gareth! This is Y/n believe it or not she's nice, hanging out with popular people didn't rot her yet"

"Rude" you hiss at him letting him know he shouldn't talk like that about your friends. Honestly mostly because of Chrissy.

"They can be nice, well...some of them."

"Yeah like Chrissy and....yeha right only Chrissy, isn't that right Y/n?" Asked the guy next to you, he had a dorky smile, his curls short and almost in a shag. He had braces.

"Can it Dustin. Anyways Y/n is my friend she's pretty and sweet. You all better be nice or DND today won't be good for any of you"

This earns a few frustrated huffs and irritated groans but they decide it's best to do as Eddie says. The rest of lunch they're actually all talking to you, even Gareth started to enjoy having you around. Eddie threw in comments here and there but he was busy staring at you. When Dustin shoved Mike that he almost fell off the chair caused you to start laughing. They started to basically fight eachother right there and then. It was entertaining. When you looked at Eddie to see if he was laughing like the rest of the table your breath catched in your throat. He was staring at you.

Like you weren't stupid you know that kind of stare.

Longing, adoration...basically just a crush stare.

Your smile dropped slightly as you blushed before he leaned closer looking directly at your face.

"You got a pretty darn cute smile"

"Thanks..."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson #eddis munson x y/n

16 notes · View notes