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sanzaibian · 7 months ago

Text

April 7th

Hey journal !

This is going to be hard to write… but I’ve decided to write down my experiences in this little journal I just bought for like, $7 at the local thrift shop, so here I go.

So, I’m Jay Callaghan, a 25 year old student in STAPS, hoping to become a physiotherapist (hope when I read that in 10 years I won’t be embarrassed !), and I’m gay. Like, very gay, nothing in me for girls. But… let’s just say than in sports studies, being gay isn’t well seen. So I keep my hookups on the down low, and avoid talking about that part of myself to anybody else.

And to be honest, it really drives me mad. I’m always double-checking that I’m not too faggy for their eyes, I’m always fidgety when discussions shift towards recent “conquests”, and I feel like I just miss out on so many things. I mean, it has only been, like, a year and a half since I fully accepted that I’m gay ? But still, the impostor syndrome has never faded, and by now, I just want it to stop.

By the way, here’s a photo of what I look like :

Dare I say I look pretty hot ? Well, this just makes things worse, actually. Because then the guys are always like “Yeah, look at Jay, he must be pounding so much pussy” or something… I just want to scream to them that no ! I’m very much very pounded ! And that’s not to say there aren’t people drooling over me ! There are ! But they all hail from the wrong gender !

However, recently I heard about the brand new Conversion Powder by Eamora Co., some kind of drug made by that unknown pharmaceutical company. What’s special about this powder is that it advertises itself as actually being able to change sexuality, so to make someone straight. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wholly support LGBT rights and want for any kind of conversion to be willful – so, like, not conversion therapy. Plus, both the instructions manual and the few reviews I found said that the powder must be taken once a day for the effect to persist. So it’s not as if it was an effective conversion therapy. But… I feel like things would be so much easier if I was straight. I wouldn’t be in constant fear, I would feel included with the other guys, and I would just be normal for once.

So yeah. I just want to end this by giving out my opinions on men and women :

Men are so fucking hot, well-built muscles, with big juicy pecs and a great six-pack invites licking, the hose downstairs is the work of god, and I just want to rub myself against it, accept it in my mouth and in my ass. Women… are just women. I guess they do have pec-like stuff, but they’re just so stuffy, and big and all. Plus, they just aren’t interesting in terms of attractiveness ? Not to shit on them, but just not my thing.

Yeah, let’s see how well it ages. I’m taking the Conversion Powder right now.

The evening

Okay, so I think from now on I should write on the evenings, because this way I can recap the events of the day while they’re still fresh in my mind. Plus, when class starts again tomorrow, it’s going to be a pain to write in the mornings.

So let’s start with when I took the powder. As the instructions asked, I put it in a glass and mixed it with water, to drink. At first, nothing happened, but then I started getting a headache, and felt quite dizzy for a while. I don’t know how long, because I didn’t record myself, and I know that my sense of time probably got warped, but it did feel long. And then, it just cleared, like magic.

To be honest, it was very underwhelming. I thought that something would happen to signal if it worked or not, but I decided to still test out if it actually worked. So I opened straight porn, and there the magic occurred.

By instinct, I started by watching the guy, but honestly, he just felt boring at first. I tried to see how hot he was, because I could tell he was attractive indeed, but it just felt… wrong to think of him as attractive. Which was unsettling in its own right. But then came the woman, and let me just say that : she was heavenly. She had tanned skin that ran along her beautiful curves, skimpy black leather pants and bra that espoused her big hips and breasts, and long black hair flowing over her back, waving in such a tasteful manner ! My dick was immediately woken up in quite the surreal moment, and I couldn’t help my self.

I beat myself off furiously at her being railed.

And I don’t even feel bad about that. I even printed out one of her photos to remind myself of her… God, my dick is awake once again by once again seeing her !

After that, I must admit that I spent a lot of time gooning myself on all the stuff I missed out on when I didn’t like women. I even almost forgot to eat lunch !

The afternoon, I decided to go on a walk outside, to see if anything different happened, and honestly… once again, it was quite underwhelming. I really don’t know what I expected, taking this powder for me to be this underwhelmed ! It only advertised that it would turn people straight, and this is what it did ! On a technical sense. Because I may be, in fact, straight at the minute, but I don’t feel straight. I… don’t know how to articulate that, I think I’ll have a better answer to that question when I’ve spent more time on the powder.

So yeah, what I wanted to write is that, when I was walking in the neighborhood, I did have the same experiences as watching the porn : I felt it was weird to conceive of men as a subject of attraction, and I paid more attention to women, but nothing more, really.

Well, nothing much more to say, I guess ! I’ll continue taking it, because it doesn’t seem dangerous, and since I’m closeted it shouldn’t change much.

April 8th

This morning I took again a Conversion Powder, and although I did feel quite dizzy taking it, it was nowhere as much as last time. That does comfort me since if I do decide to stick with this, it won’t be that annoying after a while. I read up on how it works to see if these headaches are normal, but aside from the few internet theoreticians, I haven’t found anything tangible… Nobody really knows anything about it, plus Eamora Co. is basically a completely unknown entity, so I can’t really get to the bottom of this. I guess this here diary may be the current best source for how the Conversion Powder works ?

But the most important thing today was getting back to school. And honestly, there I found that the changes were more substantial. I don’t know if it’s because I have also been on it yesterday, but it felt much easier to get into the skin of the typical straight guy. I didn’t have to worry about seeming too gay, because I technically am not, meaning that the school experience was a lot more peaceful. I also felt more included during the locker room talks. It’s crazy, because when they started to talk about boobs, my dick just hardened ! They mocked me, of course, I felt quite ashamed, but a good kind of ashamed. Like I’m actually having a normal reaction !

God, here I am writing about that kind of stuff… Well, to whoever might read that (me included), I have a duty to present everything of note ! So you’re going to have to bear with the stuff I already know I’ll find cringey in a few months’ time.

So yeah. On that, I’ll go to sleep.

April 9th

Man, I want to cross out the whole section about the powder on the web I wrote yesterday. And also the “I’ll go to sleep”. I’m not talking to anyone !

But yeah, today, the Conversion Powder made the media rounds.

And the rounds it made, in barely a day ! We got LGBT associations speaking out for its immediate discontinuing, far-right think tanks asking for it to be included in all school and high school meals, and politicians scrambling to state their opinion. It kinda feels bad for me to be technically not aligned with the LGBT associations, since I’m taking it, but this was my choice. I’m deciding to become straight, and my current experiences point that it was a good one. I’m feeling more and more connected with my bros (yes ! I can actually call them that, now !), and everyone who I knew before taking the powder say that I’ve recently been in a better mood than usual.

However, I won’t tell others that I’ve been taking it. I was closeted, and I don’t want people to think that I’m self-hating or something… I guess I kinda was, but that’s not the point I was getting at. The point I’m getting at is that I don’t fit the new stereotype of Conversion Powder-takers that is forming, and I don’t want people to think I do.

Also, even if more attention has been shed on Eamora Co. and the powder, there still is no good answer to the questions I wrote down yesterday.

Better news, though : today when taking the Conversion Powder, I almost didn’t feel dizzy at all ! It’s almost as if my body has fully acclimated to the Conversion Powder. If it’s how it works, honestly. However… I feel like I don’t have anything much to say about that ? I know, I know, such an earth-shattering change occurred in me, and two days in I don’t have anything to say about it ? I guess reality do be like that…

April 10th

Yes, I didn’t write much cringey yesterday !

But yeah, nothing much happened today, as do Wednesdays usually do. Though I guess I must mention that on the bus there was a really hot woman, I couldn’t get my eyes out of her. After a while of me basically staring at her though, I noticed that she knew I was looking at her, so I looked elsewhere. I guess, now, I understand the straight male experience, since I indulged in the same kind of creepy behavior… that is something I’ll need to fix.

About Eamora Co., they put out a statement saying that their product is ethical, and does not constitute a danger for the LGBT community. Although I’m technically on their side, let me say I’m calling bullshit on that. Seeing how potent this powder is, it’s easy for bad actors to drug gay and bi people without their consent, and even though they can fight against this kind of drugging, this kind of practice could very well lead into them assuming they were actually straight all along.

Here you go, let me step out of my soapbox.

April 11th

Okay, so, you know, Abby… No, I guess you don’t know, checking back I didn’t talk about her at all in this diary.

So, Abby was (and still is) a good friend in my university. She doesn’t study the same stuff as I do, but we got to know each other in business management class. We hit it off quite well, even though I wouldn’t call her my best friend by any stretch (I had much closer friends back in high school), she went along well with my way of being.

But here comes the catch.

Now that I’m straight, I’ve noticed that she… is actually quite well-endowed. Plus, over the last few days I would even dare say that she’s actually… cute. I mean, look at her and dare not tell me that she’s not cute !

Okay, I do realize that no one is gonna answer me here… but still ! Diary ! Or anything ! Agree with me !

I think this means that I may be having my first straight crush… on who was basically my only true friend in this university… not the best look. But at least it proves that the powder converts both sexual and romantic attraction ! It’s a good observation to include in this diary.

So yeah… gonna see how it evolves…

April 13th

Oops, I forgot to write, yesterday !

So I just hung out more with the bros, it’s been so fun to just… chit-chat with them ! I feel like we have a real connection, like they get me, like I get them. That’s something I could never have had when I was gay, I was forced to just stay out of the loop with everyone. I’m glad I’ve decided to start going on the conversion powder, because now I can finally get to live a normal life ! … not to insult my former comrades, of course.

But with Abby… I must admit I’m not proud of myself, because I basically avoided her for the past few days… I’m getting so flustered when I’m with her, it’s really embarrassing, but now I fear she thinks I’m abandoning her… I’m also being so obvious ! Like, this morning Abby walked in front of me when I was hanging out with my bros, going to some kind of economy class, and I just blushed to hell ! The bros all clocked that I have a crush on her, and I fear she might too ! God, so embarrassing !

Tomorrow, since it’s Sunday, I don’t have class, so the bros asked me to go to the gym with them, and I’m 95% sure they’re gonna cook me alive for having that damn crush…

Help !

April 15th

I forgot to write yesterday again… I was so tired from the very intensive sesh that we had that I just went straight to dine and sleep, so give me a break, diary.

So, as I predicted… Saturday, the guys cooked me, and cooked me hard. They were like “why don’t you talk to her”, “you’ve seen her look”, “do the first move” and all, it was quite overwhelming while we were working out… But they were basically saying that I shouldn’t hesitate to ask her out, as even if it doesn’t work out there’s other girls to find…

God, this is the kind of advice that I would never have had if I was having a gay crush. Nobody would be there to be excited for me, they would all be uninterested to disgusted, and none could give me advice for how to do… because the only people who could would be the very kind I may want to woo !

So yeah. Out of my soapbox, today I talked to Abby… and I couldn’t do it. I chickened out, I didn’t ask her out… Like, I was just about to ! But then somebody let their coat drop, and Abby, kind soul she is, picked it up for them… and after that, my courage just disappeared, and I just brought up the topic of the Conversion Powder and the whole drama.

Yeah. About the Conversion Powder drama.

So, let’s just say that it got heated, and it became the controversy that everyone was talking about. I don’t know what my country will choose as a way forward, but some have already chosen to outlaw it… and the usual suspects have made it official “prescription” to “cure” gayness. I’m against both options, and although I think none will be taken by our government, they currently haven’t chosen a stance… I’ll keep a close eye on it, because I’d hate for my experiment to be cut short just because of them deciding for me…

April 16th

This time, I didn’t miss a day ! Yay !

So… I asked Abby out.

It was as if the stars aligned. Today she dressed in very hot clothes, and we had class together both before and after lunch. So I took the opportunity to ask her to meet with me at the park. But then, at the afternoon, it started raining… I was afraid that our meet-up would have to be canceled, but just before it was time to end the classes, the sky cleared up ! So we went to the park, and my favorite bench in front of the pond was free ! We sat together, and there, I asked her if she wanted to go out with me.

And she said yes !

God, it feels so good ! My first ever date, and not hookup !

I’m just buzzing with excitement, we’re gonna see each other this Saturday afternoon after class ! I’m already envisioning it : first we get together in a cafe, then we go to the park and visit its zoo at the same time ! It’s going to be perfect !

I’m so ready for it !

April 17th

So, I’ve told the bros the good news… and somehow, the conversation drifted on clothes, and we realized that I don’t really have any “date” clothes – or at least, not straight date clothes. They said that it wouldn’t go, and Terry and Joe took me this afternoon to the shops, as they said that, as “pussyhounds” they know what makes girls go apeshit. There, they encouraged me to buy a nice black dress shirt, dark blue jeans and a fancy belt, so now they’ve been added to my wardrobe. They also told me to prepare some cologne, a golden chain and a fancy watch, because they said that it’s the kind of details women always pay attention to, but I already have some of those, so I’m covered.

I guess I’m ready for my date ?

April 20th

Fuck, I forgot again twice to write in this diary. I guess I should only write in it when there’s something interesting happening, because I only seem to remember writing in it when something involving my newfound straightness happens…

So yeah. The date with Abby was magical. Never have I ever been more glad to have made the choice to become straight. When we met up, she was just fabulous. Dressed impeccably, in a way that, yes, made her boobs pop out wonderfully, but it also made her beautiful eyes twinkle, her luscious lips glow and her fluffy hair shine. And the way she walked, so agile, so dainty… Bro, there’s nothing that can capture how beautiful she is ! And she’s also so smart, and such good company ! We talked for hours, made cute poses in front of the animals, and even stayed together for dinner – although we went out to McDonald’s, not enough money nor organization to go to a fancier place.

Perfect ! Absolutely perfect !

This is the kind of experiences normal men have ! And they’re so much richer than anything these gay hookups ever gave me !

Taking the Conversion Powder was the best decision in my life !

May 4th

May the force be with you ! haha

It’s been two whole weeks since I last wrote in this diary, it was time for me to give you an update, diary.

The last two weeks have been hell, because it’s exam season. So between studying, working out and dates with Abby, I haven’t had time for anything ! Bro, even my dates were study dates ! But otherwise… Everything’s going swimmingly ! I’m pulling along with my bros, and my relationship with Abby is going wonderfully !

Really, I know I’m writing the same thing again and again, but ever since I became straight, everything has become better ! Like, I’m better as a straight guy than I would ever have been as a gay guy, I’m sure of that ! It’s… even becoming kinda weird to think of myself as ever being gay, honestly...

God, it’s so refreshing to be normal !

May 6th (the morning)

A bit of a weird update, this morning before my last exam, because… er… we had sex yesterday.

So here’s how it went. Yesterday, we had another study date, but this time at my place. It was boring, of course, but to get out of the boredom we decided to make some raunchy remarks in-between economics and anatomy. And it made us both quite horny… well, at least it made me quite horny, because my dick was just rock hard, ready to squirt by the end of the session… And then we continued the remarks, without interruption… I got closer to her, started touching her, she started touching me, and then the clothes started coming down…

And you kinda know how it goes, but for me it was special. Because I have a ton of sex experience, but none when it comes to shoving my dick in a hole. I did have quite a good time eating her pussy, wayyyyyy tastier tasty than dick mind you, and she did make me come by giving me a blowjob, but then came time to do the deed. I put my condom on, and then honestly… it was a blast. I came just naturally once I had my dick inside her pussy, I just thrusted, and thrusted and thrusted, a ton of times, as if I was plowing her. She was orgasming, I was orgasming, and when we finally came, we just laid there, cuddling, until we both began sleeping.

I’m writing that as she’s taking her shower, just after my Conversion Powder drink, so I won’t be able to write too much, but really… it was the best sex I ever had. Hands down. Really, it feels like straight sex has been designed to happen, unlike anal, blowjobs and all. God, I’m so glad to have taken the powder !

May 8th

Okay okay okay, BIG NEWS !

This afternoon, Abby and I went to a date in the park, and guess what – I mean, a diary isn’t gonna answer me, but yeah. Abby asked if I wanted to be her boyfriend !

It made me just so happy ! Like, finally for the first time ever I have an actual relationship ! I have a girlfriend !

I’ll announce it to everyone ! Well, I kinda already have, but I thought after that that I should write it down here. I’m becoming the model straight guy, and I couldn’t be more up for that !

May 19th

Everything is going for the best, a month and a half in ! (about)

I think I’m gonna stop writing in this book, because I think there’s nothing I can write in it that’s new ! I’m a normal straight guy with a steady relationship with my beautiful girlfriend, Abby, and I hope – and think – that we’re going endgame. Like she’s so beautiful and she goes along with me so well, you can’t understand !

I’m also bulking thanks to all the workout I get with the bros, here, look at that photo :

Oh yeah, I did decide to cut down my hair. It was so long, it was bothersome, and I already have Abby, so I don’t need to look attractive to anybody, just to her. Plus, it made me look faggy, even though I’m straight.

So yeah, you can guess I’m a living example of why the Conversion Powder is a good thing for people who want it ! I’m so happy, and I have found the love of my life ! It almost feels like it was meant for me to be straight !

So… goodbye, I guess ? Or to next time something worth writing about happens ?

June 1st

I thought I wouldn’t ever touch this diary again, but today I saw a ton of pictures on the internet saying happy Pride Month, and… it made me feel empty inside.

I remember last year when I went to local Pride, it made me feel so… not alone ? Like I was part of something bigger, of a community of people who suffer the same kind of things as I do. But when I see all those pictures, I just feel like it’s not talking to me. I don’t feel like I’m part of the LGBT community anymore, because I’m just a normal straight guy, and I guess it’s the first time I somewhat feel some regrets ?

Now, I looked at my local Pride, and apparently this year’s prominent topic is the Conversion Powder, trying to ban it, so even if I wanted to go in as an ally, I would be the embodiment of what they’re avoiding…

I dunno, I’m feeling very conflicted. And it’s not the kind of things I can really talk about with Abby, considering to her I was always a normal straight guy. So I guess I’ll write about it here when I feel like venting.

June 3rd

This whole Pride Month thing is really going to my head, I cannot help but think about it… I look away each time I see rainbows, I avoid LGBT news and I feel awkward each time I see someone being visibly LGBT…

But really, I think I’m being so obsessed by it that I’m triggering old memories of when I was gay, I almost caught myself checking out a guy… If I didn’t know I was on the Conversion Powder, I would have said I was living through a gay awakening…

June 5th

OKAY OKAY CODE RED IT’S CONFIRMED I’M SOMEHOW REGAINING MY ATTRACTION TO MEN !

It’s too much to only be Pride Month behind that. I’m actively being turned on by men… even though I’m taking the powder everyday… each time it happens I switch to a mental image of a woman, but it doesn’t seem to really do anything…. I’m straight, that’s for sure, but why is my body suddenly not wanting to respond correctly ?

Fuck, why am I writing this, it has to be a fluke, I’m sure… I must be quite horny, since Abby has been quite busy with her internship.

I’ll call her up, have some good straight sex like I should, and see if this fluke happens again tomorrow (hint : it won’t).

June 6th

It did.

If I could sigh on paper, I would. Trust me.

The sex was a bit forced, I’ll admit, but today when I went for a morning jog, I saw one of the most drop-dead gorgeous guy I had ever seen… He was quite muscular, but not too much, was tall, handsome, had great hair and a light dusting of body hair where it mattered. Plus, his pecs were quite prominent, it felt as if I could squeeze them and sleep on them, they were so juicy… Fuck, reading back I’m describing that guy like I used to describe guys when I was gay, even though I’m straight…

Tomorrow I’ll up the dose of Conversion Powder, I’ll see what will happen.

June 7th

Do NOT take more than one dose of Conversion Powder at once, learn from my experience.

When I took those two drinks, I had the worst headache I’ve ever had… and then I was hyper-horny for a good 6 to 8 hours, wanting to fuck women, fuck women and fuck women… I’m really happy I had nowhere to go today, since I just gooned myself to straight porn for hours on end, even forgot to eat. It was actual madness.

But then, suddenly, my horniness stopped. I was just… spent, sitting inside a mess of cumstains that were hell to wash out, not really understanding what happened to me.

I’m afraid.

June 9th

The situation did not improve, my attraction to men just kept coming back, to the point I can basically now call myself thoroughly bisexual. But I’m not under any illusion : my attraction to women is very likely going to fade at some point.

And it’s going to make me lose Abby.

I’ve also looked around on the web, and found that I’m not actually the only one to be “reverted”, as people seem to refer to it as. Apparently, it’s due to people being used to the drug : since it cannot actually change attraction, it only overwrites attraction. So it acts like a drug, the more you take it the less effective it becomes…

So yeah, I’m becoming gay whether I want it or not…

June 12th

It’s beginning. The end is beginning.

I feel it, how women are starting to interest me less and less. I’d rather be dealing with dicks than with pussies… I had sex with Abby yesterday, and I just wasn’t into it. It just didn’t feel as exciting, as wonderful as it used to be when I first had sex with her…

Even she noticed it, and asked if everything was alright with me. I lied about being tired because of training, but it will only get me so far… I need to tell her at some point, before it’s too late. But I just don’t have the heart to break hers, it would also break my heart to have to leave her… I really wish I could stay straight…

So much for being “normal”, eh ?

June 14th

This afternoon, we met for our usual Wednesday dates. And I gathered the courage to tell her everything.

I told her how I was gay, how I used the Conversion Powder, how I then had a crush on her, and how I’m slowly becoming gay again. I was so afraid telling her that. Because I absolutely was in the wrong, I kept her in the dark about an important part of myself, and I was afraid of her reaction… heh, it’s kind of my first coming-out, in a way.

However, Abby, blessed be her heart, took it in strides, and the only thing she became angry over was the fact that I decided to take the Conversion Powder… Turns out she’s bisexual, and is really against it, and I guess I became another example for her to latch onto to deem it unacceptable… We had a goodbye kiss, and I told her that I still had a few days of liking women, so we should do whatever last thing together as a couple as we can.

I’ll see what she has in store for me.

June 15th

Okay, today was wild.

Abby basically took a whole day off just for me, and invited me to her place. And I was barely inside her bedroom that she just came in with tons of sex toys. I’m not even sure where she found half of those… And so, we just spent the remainder of the day having sex in many a kinky setup… the last of my straight sex would be kinky sex…

It was great, I hadn’t had so much fun in a long while, especially worrying this much about the end of the Conversion Powder… and I feel that from now on I’ll know her body way too much for someone who will soon become her Gay Best Friend.

So yeah, a great way to close the straight chapter of my life. We’ve decided, with Abby, that tomorrow I’ll get off the Conversion Powder, and that will be our official break up.

June 16th

First day without Conversion Powder, and I’ve been in bed fighting the inevitable headache that such an action accompanies.

Abby was kind enough to come look after me, and it honestly felt really weird to look at her and feel basically not much happening in my dick. Only remained aesthetic attraction.

While she was here, I made her read this diary. It was quite a humbling experience, as she was basically reading through my heart. Her reactions ranged from laughter to concern, including a few realizations about our history together. I mean, I didn’t know she remembered the time I almost confessed to her but was interrupted by someone else !

She also told me that it was weird how I didn’t mention being afraid about the bros, and honestly… I find it also weird now that she mentions it. I dunno, when I decided to take the powder, fitting in with the bros was such a priority for me, yet today, I feel like I have such a good relationship that I wouldn’t trust them to care either way. But I did make a coming out message in our group chat, basically explaining the same stuff as I did with Abby. I’ll see how it goes, but currently Terry eagerly responded with a “I support you!!!!!!1!!!”.

June 18th

My headache was very strong, and I stayed in bed again yesterday, but by now I think it has passed. I didn’t expect the aftereffects of the Conversion Powder to be this severe...

I don’t think I’ll have much to say in this diary in the future, especially as I seem to be going back to the normal me. I mean, normal gay me. But since I’ve had a lot of time to think about this whole situation the past few days, I’ll write about my experiences here.

So, first of all, I’m glad to have made this experience of what straight life looks like. However, I also think that it was a mistake.

Basically, I think that when I did it, I took the easy way out. Pointing to an inalienable part of myself as being the cause of all my woes and then trying to remove it, it just shows a laziness from me. Like I can’t try and imagine what an actual solution looks like, I have to change myself before being able to fix stuff. However, I feel that this experience made me learn that I was actually able to do all the things I felt were lacking. Talking to Abby she made me notice that, aside from being straight, nothing really changed after taking the Conversion Powder, so all the things I blamed myself for making me look faggy just… didn’t. It was only me being afraid, and letting it talk rather than the rational mind. So all the good things I had when I was straight, I can just have them if I get out of the mindset that gay is bad.

So… yeah ! Although it still feels a bit weird to say, I’m gay, and I’m proud ! All my woes weren’t due to me being gay, they were due to me being afraid, so now I decide to not be afraid anymore ! I hope that whoever reads this diary (including me) will understand that they don’t need to take out a part of themselves to find happiness. They need to get over their fears, and only this way will the road to happiness will be opened !

Well said, love from the past ! -T

#male transformation #male tf #gay to straight #straight to gay #mental change #transformation #tf story

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lawchwan · 10 months ago

Text

love alphabet (law)

note: i found this alphabet template but i can't find the original creator since i found it. if anyone knows, please inform me so i could credit.

Disclaimer: its mostly sfw but P, K, and Y, as p and y are nsfw and k is suggestive. also, i tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as i could but some may be referenced as fem... but the majority is gender neutral.

crossposted in ao3

A = Affection (PDA, what sort of affection they give)

as many as one would say about him and pda, i’m also a firm believer that law is not a big fan of pda. however, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t enjoy showcasing his love for you. everyone has a love language and law has one, and its quality time. your mere presence calms him down, so he puts in the efforts to incorporate you in all activities he’s in in the modern universe, and all adventures in the canon universe (as long as you’re not injured and are nowhere near in danger).

however, he’ll only do any form of pda if he’s feeling jealous and possessive and sees someone trying to make a move on you, so it's not like he minds it, it's more of his comfort.

furthermore, he’s EXTRA affectionate in private. I’d even argue that he’s much more clingy in private than he is in public. he’ll never showcase that clingy whiny side of his in public and if you so mention it to anyone, then trust you’ll lose all privileges.

B = Babies (Anything you want about babies)

for law, I don’t believe he’s the type to want kids. I don’t think he’s against it, I just think he’d rather have pets/plants than actual babies. I can see him being a cat dad honestly.

but you best believe that if you were to have his kid, he’d be such an attentive and overprotective father and if anyone ever so lay a hand on his child, he’d sure cut their limbs into pieces. (both literally and figuratively)

C = Cuddles (How they cuddle or are cuddled)

it truly depends on the mood and who initiates it. if you saw him lying in bed or on the couch and you got on top of him, he’ll just wrap his arms around you as you lay on his chest. he’ll probably also have a book in his hand, so in true law fashion, he won’t say much so he’ll just do the action more than say anything.

simultaneously, when you lay on the bed and if he’s really tired due to work, he’ll just groan and pull you into him and let himself lay on top of you with his face nuzzling on your neck without suffocating you. you’d simply ask him how his day went and he’d just grumble back an “nghh” which means ‘I don’t feel like talking, let me just lay in peace’ and you just simply rub his back as he falls into a slumber.

TLDR; he can be a baby when he’s tired

D = Darling (Pet names)

He's not the biggest pet name guy but he’s the type to call you “babe/baby” if not by your name or how he’d call you “(y/n)-ya”

E = Enamored (how hard do they fall when in love)

you know the trope “they fell first, he fell harder”? I feel like if law was a trope, he’d be that.

law is nowhere near affectionate or emotional, but once you came into his life, you’ve impacted him in ways no one would think of, and yet you’re all he thinks of. he would even “subtly” mention you from time to time, and he wouldn’t notice how much he talks about you until Shachi and Penguin call him out on it and make fun of him for it (and he’d be in denial about it of course)

“y’know, (y/n) would love this necklace because it has their birthstone on it and I know how much they—“

“We know, bro, you’ve talked about them in the past hour.”

“NO, I DON’T!”

F = Firsts (A first on anything you pick)

if one would ask the two of you how your first kiss went, you’d get different responses from you and Law; with you finding it adorable and endearing, and him finding it embarrassing.

you two were in his room, alone, and watching a movie that you two have been wanting to watch but never got the chance until now. but despite the desire to watch, the two kept glancing at each other (mostly initiated by law, but he could never admit it), one hoping the other to just make a move.

law was never that experienced so he was nervous. using his knowledge from his time as a medical student, a little bit of his general psychology course, and the shows and media he consumes, he just went for it, and to say he went in deep would be an understatement.

although you were shocked at first, you kissed him back but you noticed that he suddenly went stiff and didn’t move as smoothly as he first did, so you pulled away and asked him if he was okay. and he looked at you like a deer in headlights.

“… I froze, didn’t I?”

law refuses to retell that story and is embarrassed every time you mention it.

G = Good Morning (How do they wake you up)

you’re dealing with an insomniac man, you tell me how it goes.

no, but in all seriousness, he’ll be very groggy so he’ll probably be the type to oversleep, so you have to wake him up. but if he ever woke you up, it’d probably be if he accidentally made his presence loud and you crave him.

but if you two happened to oversleep, then you got Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo barging in, yelling, and jumping on the bed to wake you two up like they’re overgrown children.

(in the modern universe; he’ll just push them out and glare at them to get out. meanwhile in the canon universe; he’ll simply use his devil fruit powers and just switch them out with specs of dust around the polar tank)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs?)

oddly enough, for a cold individual, his hugs are warm and soothing to have around. again, he doesn’t give out hugs to anyone except you and maybe Bepo, but with that fact, his hugs just hit different with you.

he rarely asks for it, and he’ll give it to you if you want it… however, remember how I said he’ll participate in doing PDA if he’s feeling possessive? yeah, you best believe he’s the type to hug you from behind as you talk to the individual in front of you.

think like this:

I = In Labor (Labour and Delivery)

oh, you’re highly blessed to have law by your side. As a doctor, he’s very much prepared to take care of you while in labor and knows how to keep calm in your delivery process.

but deep down, as your boyfriend, he’s highly concerned and scared for you and your baby.

suffice to say, underneath that stoic, calm, and collected doctor, is a very scared man who wishes he could get rid of the pain of his significant other.

J = Jealousy (Are they jealous? How do they handle it?)

I’d say Law is a very secure guy in his relationship and once you’re in a relationship with him, you’re expected to be loyal to him as he is to you, so he has nothing to worry about if you fulfill that promise.

however, he does have his moments where he needs to step in to showcase to the person in front of you that you’re off the market and that you have a boyfriend who’s not afraid to cause chaos for their sake.

I’d say he’s more possessive than jealous.

K = Kisses (How do they kiss? How often?)

oh, his kiss just hits differently as much as his hugs.

while he hates PDA (or so he says), he is the type to give you a quick peck before leaving somewhere for an entire day, whether privately or in front of people. just a quick peck on the cheek or forehead in public, on the lips in private.

speaking of privacy, his kisses are also very loving in private. he loves to get into full-on make-out sessions with you on the bed, sometimes it does get sexual, but other times you two can’t get each other off of each other.

L = Loyal (How loyal are they?)

the law would kill for his crew, and you’re as special as his crew. law gives me the vibes of “I’ll take a bullet for the one I love, and if I survive, I’ll kill whoever tried to hurt the one I love” and it's a big claim since law is a very distrustful person and doesn’t let ANYONE in his life that easy.

so if you ever thought of breaking your loyalty and betraying law in any way, you’re practically dead to him.

M = Memory (Their favorite memory about you?)

when asked about your favorite memory, you’d say “Your first kiss with him” and he would yell at you, “NO!”

all jokes aside, his favorite memory is possibly when you two started working together. he can’t pinpoint why, it's not like you guys met under the best circumstances, but when you two started talking and getting to know each other through work, he started to get enamored by your presence and just wanted to know more about you.

N = Never! (Dealbreakers)

breaking your loyalty to him and you deliberately expose his vulnerable side to other people. Any betrayal is a big dealbreaker to him, but these two would set him off. like I’ve mentioned above in the loyalty section, do either of these and you’re dead to him.

O = On the Rocks (How do they make up?)

law is not the most emotionally intuitive but that doesn’t mean he’s not emotionally intelligent. While Law is not the most talkative, he does try to communicate with you and you two mainly hash out your problems and apologize if needed.

however, law is a levelheaded person, so as long as you don’t pull any dumb stunt like a certain someone, *cough* luffy *cough* you’re fine.

P = Playtime (Any headcanons on sex)

While Law’s not the most vocal, he’s the type to let out groans and slight whimpers in your ears when he reaches his climax.

and while he enjoys being dominant during sex, he does want to tap into his submissive side sometime in the future (which includes pegging), but his pride wouldn’t allow him. maybe it's a trust issue thing, so once he can trust 100%, he can reconsider

Q = Quiet Time (How do they wind down?)

just simply having your presence calms him down, especially when you two cuddle on his couch/bed, that sure puts him at ease.

R = Rapture (What makes them happy?)

your judgment-free perspective and your ability to hear him out without outright criticizing and mocking him makes this man feel so at ease. and with your loving smile, it sure makes his dopamine levels go up.

S = Soulmate (What do they think of soulmates?)

I don’t think Law would be a firm believer in soulmates. I don’t how to explain it but he never came off as someone who believes in such things due to him feeling like each time he gets close to someone, he loses them. so finding a “soulmate” doesn’t sound like something he’d be interested in.

however, with having you and his crew, he believes there’s something deeper to it, just like how he felt with Corazon… but he’s afraid that with that deep feeling, that would mean he’d lose you guys…

it's very complicated and he can never give you a direct answer, so oftentimes he’ll either say no or I don’t know.

T = Together (What do you like to do together?)

lounging around and reading a book together. sounds very typical of law, but what else could he do? he’s not the most extroverted individual and he certainly doesn’t like loud environments so having some quiet sessions with you is ideal for him.

U = Unyielding (How do they handle interlopers in the relationship?)

law is the king of being unbothered and masters the art of not giving a fuck. not to toot his own horn, but Law is hyper-aware that he’s good-looking and anyone would wish to be in your position. while he doesn’t see what you and others see in him, he understands that people do fawn over his intimidating and mysterious aura.

so he does get girls (and sometimes guys) to throw themselves at him and try to get in between you and him, only for him to embarrass them by apathetically rejecting their advances. no amount of luring could ever get to him as he would just hit them with his signature scowl and roll his eyes at them. his love for you is THAT deep.

meanwhile in your case… I’d be a broken record so go back to the jealousy and the whole PDA discourse.

V = Vulnerable (Are they vulnerable often? How do they handle it?)

law is not always vulnerable, thanks to his pride, trust issues, and trauma, but when he does become vulnerable, you better keep that shit to yourself and bury it in your grave. That's an oath you need to keep.

you’ll see him sometimes start tearing up and talk about how much he misses his family, old friends, and Corazon. his face would become red due to his crying as he pouts and starts to talk about his feelings.

you’d comfort him and eye him with a loving and supportive look. he would make eye contact with you through teary eyes and witness your look. that look solidified his trust in you and how comfortable he is talking about his feelings.

W = Wedding (Wedding headcanons)

law is not a big celebratory person, but he doesn’t simply want a courthouse wedding. not because he doesn’t want it, but because he knows that his crew would pester him for it and you would just laugh at their arguments, even if you don’t mind having a courthouse wedding.

so he’ll just have a small wedding, think kind of a backyard type of wedding where only the closest people are in attendance. while it's not big, you two would wear your elegant wedding attire and you two would shine together.

he just loves the small intimate ceremonies where all his favorite people gathered around and no one to disturb this beautiful moment.

X = (E)x (How do they handle exes? What do they do if they see them)

law is not that experienced in relationships so it's not like he had many exes and if he were to have one, he’d not acknowledge them if he saw them from afar. if they did walk up to them, he’d simply just apologize and walk away. it's not that law is not confrontational, it's just, what the hell was he supposed to do? the relationship’s done, there’s nothing to reignite.

I feel like Law’s the type who would not go back to his ex, even if he fell hard for them and still has slight feelings for them.

Y = Yearning (What do they do when they miss you?)

he’ll never admit it, and no matter how many times you’ve caught him, he’ll still not admit and deny it, but this man takes your clothes and/or pillows and constantly smells them until he sleeps.

it started with your pillow from your shared bed. you left to hang out with ikkaku and you may have lingered a bit longer than expected, and you came back later than you should have. you expected to be lightly scolded by law as you walked into the room, but instead, you were met with the sight of him sleeping with your pillow (and your discarded hoodie from earlier?), wrapping its arms around it like how he’d usually do with you.

it was an adorable sight, and when you call him out on it he’d be like “Huh? What are you talking about? I probably moved in my sleep” Yeah sure, Jan.

**NSFW**

furthermore, law has stolen your panties previously. when you were gone, Law, unfortunately, caught himself in a position where he desperately needed you. he eyes down at the imprint between his legs through his sweatpants.

he palms it as he hisses out a light cuss, wishing you could just walk in and take care of him, but he knows you won’t be here anytime soon. so he’ll take the closest thing to having you, he gets up to your drawer and fishes out your lace underwear.

he stared at it as he went back to his chair and he proceeded to palm himself through his sweatpants once again. he gripped your panties as he lowered his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock, gasping at the air making contact with his sensitive skin.

he cusses at himself and calls himself a pervert for doing what he’s about to do as he wraps your panties around and starts to stroke it.

little does he know, you came in earlier than expected and walked into the hottest sight you’ve witnessed.

Z = Zzz… (Sleeping headcanons)

law is a small spoon, argue with the wall. he loves to lay on your chest as he enjoys the sound of your heartbeat (no pun intended), while he wraps his arms around your middle. he also loves it when you stroke his hair, it makes him go to sleep almost instantly as you see him roll his eyes and began to let out a tiny snore as he falls to sleep.

he sleeps like a baby all in all, and you love to take care of him.

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

#one piece headcanons #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law one piece #sage's trafalgar law #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law fic

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honeylemonteaasblog · 5 months ago

Text

A Little Too Much

inspiration: you were never too much and anyone who says you are should go find less

summary: your boys always got your back, wether it's from someone or the voices in your head

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: a little angst but not much, a little fluff but not much (maybe too much…), healing journey

word count: 3 k

warning (not detailed): emotional abuse, implied violence [overprotective BTS with a you’re-my-entire-world-and-without-you-life-is-meaningless kind of love]

“What did you just say to her?” Namjoon’s voice was hard as it cut through the hallway. You wanted to peer around the man’s broad shoulders to see him, but the man tightened his grip to keep you in place. Your eyes still flickered back and forth in an effort to catch a glimpse of Namjoon though.

The man tossed Namjoon a look over his shoulder. “She your’s?” He spoke like you were just some procession to own. It was as if you were merely a thing hold. He hadn’t even bothered to look at you when he spoke, reinforcing the idea that you weren’t the one in charge of your own life. When his eyes found you again he was looking at your body. He never did meet your eyes. And that wasn’t out of respect, rather that they didn’t mean anything to him. Not like the rest of your body might.

“Let her go.” Yoongi’s voice rang out. Instead of Namjoon’s deadly, but calm question, Yoongi’s voice was all rage and power. His voice sounded like death personified. You shivered as memories of Yoongi’s dominating voice pass through your head. “I won’t ask again.” It’s like he was making a promise to violence.

You could hear their footsteps echo throughout the empty hall, but they didn’t seem close enough yet. You tried to peak around the man’s shoulder again, but he pushed you back causing your head to hit the wall. You let out a muffled yelp. The man didn’t even look towards you.

He shifted to look towards Namjoon and Yoongi, but didn’t let go of you. Instead he just pulled you along with him as if you were merely a doll that children were fighting over. His grip tightened and you knew that it was going to bruise.

Honestly, the fact that he thought that you were some thing to drag around hurt more than his grip. You felt your shoulders bow inwards. It was like you truly thought that if you were small enough he might forget you were there. You wanted him to let go of you, but you were too scared to move let alone say anything. And your head still hurt from hitting the wall earlier.

It probably wasn’t the best, but you had learned early on in life that men thought that they could take whatever they wanted— that they were entitled to take what they want— and the more you fought the worse it was. So no it wasn’t that you wanted to be in this situation, backed against a wall by a complete stranger, but it had also been ingrained into your head that if you went with it, it would hurt less.

It’s not fair to blame yourself for your trauma responses. It’s not fair to blame yourself for not doing better when you are simply trying to protect yourself in the only way you know how to. Despite that simplicity, it’s something that many people tend to forget.

In that moment you were reminded of a time when you had been taught that you needed to be less. You definitely needed to talk less, but it would also be good if you thought less too.

You hadn’t felt like a person in those moments. You didn’t feel worthy of anything or anyone. You didn’t feel like you were valued. Instead you felt like a thing that would be fought over but quickly tossed aside once they got bored. And you had a feeling that the man currently holding your arm in a bruising grip got bored very easily.

Needless to say that was before meeting the boys who had tried so hard to help you change those thoughts. But here you were, being thrown right back in. It hurts how little control we have over our own thoughts sometimes. It’s so easy to be swallowed up by the past.

You had always been told that you were too much. You were told that your love was suffocating. You were told that you tried too hard and it wasn’t a good look. You were told that you just needed to relax, as if it were ever that simple.

So you had also spent a lot of time trying to be less, all in an effort to make other people feel more comfortable. You shoved all of these pieces of yourself deep down into a tiny box buried within your heart. You could almost pretend like those pieces didn’t exist at all. At the time, you thought that if you pretended to be less, that you might be more likable— more palatable. And deep down all you wanted was to feel accepted. If you had to lose parts of yourself you thought that it may just be worth it.

Overtime, you had started to forget just how special you really were. You had been playing a part for so long that you actually started to believe all those toxic voices in your heard. The ones that would twist your reality and punish you for taking up space. You had begun to lose your sense of wonder and tended to see the world in more black and white than color.

You had started to feel like less of a person and more of a thing to be controlled.

And before you truly realized it, you were the one feeling uncomfortable, but no one else seemed to mind. No one had tried to make you feel comfortable despite you trying so hard for others. You weren’t comforted or hugged because that would require others to care about you, or at the very least notice.

Instead you were shoved to the side so people could pretend like you weren’t hurting. People don’t like to think about the fact that others are living their own lives, especially when people are in pain. For some reason, other people’s pain is an unbelievably uncomfortable thing for people to sit with; however, that really shouldn’t be a surprising revelation.

It wasn’t until the boys crashed into your life that your perspective changed. Since then the seven of them had made it their mission to fight off anything that told you should be less. Sometimes it ended in physical fights with the people who haunted your past. Other times, they had to settle for comforting words and cuddles in an effort to fight the voices in your head. For them, both were equally important.

They never wanted to you to feel uncomfortable again. They wanted to you to feel safe and happy, but they especially wanted you to feel safe and happy with them. Bonus points if it was while in their arms.

You flinched when the man behind you abruptly shoved you towards Yoongi and Namjoon, causing you to trip over your feet and fall forwards. They both lunged for you. He tried to run but you didn’t even bother looking, choosing to wrap your arms around Namjoon, who had reached you first. You buried your head in his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. You felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head; it was a stark contrast to the harshness of the past half an hour.

With his arms around you, you felt safe. You always did with the boys. When they hold you, you feel like nothing could harm you. You liked to think that their hugs gave you bullet proof skin.

You could hear the man yelling behind you and Hoseok’s and Jin’s loud voices, but you decided you liked hiding in Namjoon’s embrace much more than facing whatever reality awaited you.

You’ve seen Hoseok’s deadly right hook before. You can imagine Jimin’s sadistic smirk as he plays with his switchblade. And Jin will be donning that unemotional mask that he likes to use to scare the people who threaten you. There is nothing as terrifying as not knowing what is going on in someone’s head.

Besides, Namjoon didn’t seem to mind holding you. If anything his grip tightened when the yelling started like he knew that the loud voices might upset you. So you held him tighter too.

You didn’t flinch like you normally would if you were to feel a hand rub along your spine, but it was gentle. And you think that deep down, when your being held by one of the boys, you know that they would never let any harm come to you. It’s not that you think that they would when you’re not in their arms, but you know they would never let anyone else close enough to touch you when you’re in their embrace. Well, anyone besides them that is.

They really are that possessive.

Taehyung pulls you out of Namjoon’s embrace who leaves an apologetic kiss on your forehead before heading over towards the others.

“Sweetheart, let’s go wait in the car.” Taehyung coaxes you towards the car while holding you to his chest like he’s worried that if one of them isn’t holding you, you might fall apart. He isn’t completely sure what happened before Yoongi and Namjoon got here, but he isn’t willing to take any chances.

None of them are when it comes to you, and your safety.

Jungkook is waiting in the car when the two of you get there. He quickly pulls you out of Taehyung’s embrace and further into the car. Well, more like into his lap. Your legs straddle his waist as you bury your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble with his soft laughter and his hands come up to cradle your head and neck. You’re willing to bet that he’s trying to silently ask Taehyung if you’re okay over your head.

“Princess” Jungkook calls for your attention and you reluctantly look up at him. It’s not that you don’t love looking at his doe eyes, but you really loved hiding in his chest. Especially when he is laughing. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You love that he knows not to ask you if you’re okay. He can already guess that you’re not. And he doesn’t need you to confirm that for him.

You love that he doesn’t force you to talk about anything even though you are sure that he wants answers. He prioritizes your needs over the answers that may make him more comfortable. In that moment his comfort isn’t the one that matters.

Jungkook also knows that you aren’t used to having people to rely on. Too many people have told you that you’re emotions are too much and that you need to tone it down. So he knows that you may not want to rely on him, too worried about what they may think of you, but he also wants to smother those voices.

If he could physically touch those toxic voices they would already have broken necks.

“You can feel however you want to feel, Sweetheart.” Jungkook nods at Tae’s words. It hurts them to see the traces of emotional abuse that you’ve experienced. And it really hurts that they know that they’ll never be able to completely remove those thoughts. However, that doesn’t stop them from doing everything in their power to minimize those voices and provide as much reinforcement as they can.

“Princess.” Jungkook waits until you meet his eyes so you can see how serious he is. “You were never too much. And you never could be too much. I’m so sorry that people made you think that and that they turned your mind against you.” He presses a kiss to your temple as if it could heal your mind. It was something that the boys had all told you before, but you felt your heart swell every time they said it. It was probably why they kept telling you; they could see the way that their words impacted you.

“He’s right, Sweetheart. It was never your fault. We get that it’s really hard to acknowledge that, especially when it’s so much easier to blame ourselves. But it was never you.” His hands run up and down your spine and the repetitive movement makes you a little sleepy. But you can’t help but feel comforted by them.

“We know that it’s hard to believe that, but we’ll always be here to remind you.” Jungkook and Taehyung look at you with such determination that it makes some of those toxic voices in your head go quiet because when they look at you like that it makes you think that they’re right. It makes you think that it was never your fault no matter how many times you were told that it was.

You aren’t ready to fully believe that, the abuse has penetrated your mind too deeply for it all just to go away, but the more time you spend with your boys the more that you’re starting to see it the way that they do. It fills you with hope so even though you know that you’re not healed, you know that you are healing.

It is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.

The boys wish that they could make it all go away with the snap of their fingers. They wish that they were able to fix all of your problems and remove any and all barriers to your happiness, but they also know that there are somethings that they can’t just fix for you. So, in those cases they stand by you, hold you, and encourage you because no matter what they will always be there to support you. They’re ten toes behind no matter what.

You smile at his words and pull your gaze away from Jungkook’s to smile at Taehyung. You watch him visibly brighten at your smile like you just gave him a shot of dopamine. They love when you smile. And most of the time, when you smile they can’t help but smile too. They will do whatever they can to make you smile like that.

You deserve the world and they would gladly serve it to you.

The others slide into the car with tense shoulders and angry expressions. When you spin around in Jungkook’s lap to see them, you swear that Jimin has blood on the cuffs of his dress shirt but before you can look closer he’s pulling you out of Jungkook’s lap and into his. “Baby, you scared me.”

You want to reassure him, but you aren’t quite sure how to explain yourself. Instead, you hug him back even tighter. He smiles into your neck which makes you smile too. It’s funny how despite everything Jimin can make you smile so easily. You love that he’s able to make you smile because you can remember a time when even smiling was exhausting. Now though, now it feels effortless around your seven boys.

“Let’s go home, Love.” Jin’s voice pulls your attention away from Jimin. He’s sitting in the passenger seat but turns around to look at you. You watch his eyes rake across your body checking to make sure you’re okay. You love that Jin never tries to hide how much he cares about you. He never tries to minimize his love for you.

He wants you to know that he wants you to be okay. And he would do anything to ensure it.

The boys let you live in your own little bubble for a while longer, but you also know that they’ll want to talk to you. They will want to check in with you because they know that in the past people haven’t cared enough to ask.

They never want you to feel like that again so they always make sure to check in with you. They never want you to suffer in silence ever again, not when they can do something about it. Some might call it overbearing, but they would do whatever they need to ensure that you feel seen. And until you ask them to stop they never will.

You remember asking Hoseok about it once, wondering why they were so protective. It had been when you were first getting to know them. He explained that everyone deserves to feel safe and protected. But he also told you that he likes feeling needed by you. He likes being able to protect you.

Not that he told you this, but the boys also love that shy look you get when one of them steps in or has your back because you haven’t quite realized that they’ll always defend you. A part of him wants to cry for you because someone made you feel like you were alone and that you didn’t have anyone to protect you. So no one can really blame the boys for going overboard. At least that’s what Yoongi always says with a smug smirk, but you catch the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you.

It is difficult to find the balance between giving you space and never making you question if they care. They want to reassure you, but they also don’t want to overwhelm you. The eight of you are slowly finding that balance, but it’ll take some time.

You secretly love it though. Before the boys, people never showed that they cared so maybe it’s a little toxic, but you have your reasons. You love their overprotective nature that never wants you out of their sight because you’re their whole world. You love that they want to do everything for you, not because you can’t, but because they want to. You love that they will be at your side as soon as you ask because it’s their favorite place to be.

But in that moment of peace on the car ride home, you hug Jimin closer. You close your eyes and let yourself take a moment to see how you really feel because for the first time in your life you know that those feelings are valid. You no longer have to second guess or dull them so others aren’t uncomfortable. You know that the boys will accept you regardless.

You will never be too much for your boys and that makes you feel like you could do anything. You think, with them by your side, you could conquer the world.

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justauthoring · 11 months ago

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just hold me.

it's hard to find out the truth, but despite it; you still just want jesse.

a/n: no one will probably read this but i love jesse <3

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!white!reader

tw. for attempted sexual assault. also, you're walter white's daughter but no description of the reader is given.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure what you’re doing here.

But the tears pouring down your cheeks won’t stop, and your feet don’t stop moving beneath you. You’re just walking with no real destination. Your hands are shaking and everything hurts but you don’t want to go home to your apartment; it’s too silent. Going to your parents wasn’t an option either because then you’d just be riddled with questions. You thought about going to your uncles, but he’d be just as overbearing in a completely different way

And you certainly couldn’t go to Jesse’s.

He was the whole reason you were out here in the first place and you weren’t ready to face him.

Not yet.

You’re not sure if you ever would be.

“Oh, God…”

You take a sharp turn, not fully aware of where you’re even going. It’s late and dark and you don’t even really know what part of town you’re in, just that it’s far away enough that no one you know will stumble upon you–exactly what you want. You don’t want anyone to see you, not like this, and you can barely form a coherent thought in your own head so trying to explain your state would surely be nothing but bad.

No, it was best to be alone.

Try to sort out your thoughts.

Because what even were your thoughts?

It was one thing to find out your boyfriend was a drug dealer, but another to find out it wasn’t just the small things; which sure, were just as unsafe but still… not–not crystal meth and certainly not things as big ties to the cartel. You weren’t stupid and it wasn’t like you didn’t know who Jesse was. You’d gone to high school with him, and you knew the sort of people he hung around and the things he’d done… no. You weren’t stupid.

You’d known. Had a suspicion, even if you’d never asked. Because honestly, it didn’t really matter to you all that much. He was careful to keep it separate from you and he wasn’t like that with you. He’d never once tried to force you to try something or get you involved. There was a clear line he’d drawn and he refused to let it blur and you were okay with that, even if you shouldn’t, for the simple and plain fact that you loved him.

But the cartel was different. That was bigger, even if you didn’t understand the whole scope. That was a whole new scope of danger that didn’t settle right with you.

That you couldn’t just ignore. Couldn’t just turn the other way because of your feelings.

And to top it all off, he was doing it with your own father.

Cooking and selling meth with Walter White.

Your father.

You’re not thinking straight. You surely can’t be.

Because… because there was no way. There just couldn’t be.

But you remember everything that’s happened the past few months with him, starting when he’d been diagnosed with cancer all the way to the way him and your mother had been acting with each other.

Everything had been off. You didn’t need to still be living in the house to see that.

Skyler wouldn’t tell you, even when you pressed her on it but you knew she knew something. And now you had no doubt in your mind–she knew that your father was cooking and selling meth and…

“What the hell,” you huff, shaking your head in disbelief of the whole thing. It was crazy, plain and simple and it was entirely, without a doubt, true.

You realize somewhere along the way you’d stopped, found yourself in some sort of alley and had pressed yourself up against the wall to give yourself a minute. You’d been so upset and out of your mind that when you left Jesse’s you hadn’t grabbed a coat; you’d barely given yourself time to put on your shoes. He was coming towards you, trying to explain things, but you couldn’t handle listening to his explanation and had slammed the door shut in his face before he could reach you.

You’d heard him screaming for you but you’d gotten in your car before he could reach you and drove off, wound up in some bar to drink the thoughts away and now you’d gotten lost on your way back to your car.

And found yourself in an alley, all alone.

Pressing your palms to your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath.

What were you supposed to do now?

You let your head fall into the palms of your hands, trying to push the heavy thoughts from your mind without much luck. It isn’t until you felt a hand fall on your arm did you look up, a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes settle on a man, a few years older than you, leering down at you with a small smile.

Your lips part but no words leave your lips.

“Hey there, little lady, you okay?”

His voice is gravelly, eyes sunken despite not being that old. His skin looks pale from what you can tell in the dark and somewhat sickly, but despite that, his eyes are set firmly on your own, and that smile never wavers.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer, remembering yourself. There’s a tightening to your chest as you feel his grip tighten on you the second you move and you’re pressing your hands against the wall behind you to try to push yourself up. “S-Sorry. Long night.”

“Looks like it,” he laughs but it isn’t pleasant at all. “You look like you’ve been cryin’.”

Raising your hand, you wipe at your cheeks, pulling back only to see your smudged and ruined mascara. “Oh,” you laugh lightly, forced, glancing to your right which leads back to the street; you hadn’t realized how far you’d crawled into the alley and just how sketchy everything around you looks.

“Yeah,” you nod at him, shuffling to the right. “Th-thanks for checking on me, but I should get going.”

“Now, hold on.”

Your chest tightens, letting out a small cry as his grip turns bruising around your arm and he gives a small tug. You’re still not sober enough, wobbly on your own feet as you stumble towards him, the movement surprising you. His free hand catches you by the waist and you tense.

“It’s too late for a lady like yourself to walk home all on her own,” he moves to explain, still with that ever unnerving smile. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“No, no, really–” you argue, pressing a hand against his chest as you try to pull your arm away. He just squeezes tighter, enough to pull an actual cry from your lips as your eyes widen, the panic doubling as your heart pounds against your chest. “Please. You’re hurting me!”

“Shh,” he says, leaning in to press his face into the crook of your neck, the hand at your waist slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “It’ll feel good. I promise.”

You try to push against his chest again but he just digs his nails into your arm and then he’s shifting, slamming your back against the wall you’d been leaning against a few minutes ago. The panic seizes you completely, your inebriated mind trying to get your limbs to work enough to shove him off but your body isn’t working the way you want and your vision is blurred. His grip is tight, shifting to press your hands together above your head and using the other to grab at your shirt, pulling it up.

“Stop,” you cry, “no! Stop!”

But he doesn’t listen. And no one else does if there even is someone else in the alley with you.

You’re completely alone.

His lips ghost across your neck and you feel like you’re going to be sick, the brick of the building biting into your skin and his nails digging into your wrist, harsh enough to draw blood. He’s raised your shirt enough to reveal your bra and his hands are working fast to unclasp the back, giving a tight squeeze before his fingers drift across the expanse of your stomach and around to the back.

You’re crying, you realize. Somewhere along the way the tears had started, pouring profusely down your cheeks, sobs wrenching from your lips as you’re defiled. The weight of him against you is suffocating and you can’t breathe properly.

You feel your bra loosen around your chest and you cry, trying to fight his grip on your hands with a new struggle, before suddenly the weight disappears off of you. You see a blur rush past you but you barely pay mind, your legs giving out beneath you as you sink to the ground, knees coming to your chest as you let out a cry.

None of your body listens to you and you can’t move even as you hear a cry and a familiar voice yelling. There’s a loud thud, followed by a repeated lighter thud, and you try to force yourself to move, push your body, and a small cry leaves your lips as you do and suddenly there’s a body in front of you.

At first you’re worried it’s the man but there’s a familiar voice calling for your name and then you recognize the blue eyes staring back at you.

Oh.

“Jesse…”

His name leaves your lips in a broken whisper and his face twists, a curse leaving his lips as he gently grabs you by the waist, pulling you towards him. “It’s okay,” he breathes, voice soft, gentle and it’s soothing in a way you can’t right describe. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

He’s wrapping something warm around you and you realize how cold you are in that moment, relishing in the warmth that envelopes you as you grab onto him. “Jesse,” you cry, this time your voice stronger but in a way that’s heartbreaking as your voice pitches and cracks. “Jesses, he… I couldn’t…”

“I know,” he huffs and he sounds mad. Is he mad at you? “I… it’s okay. He can’t hurt you, okay? Let me take you home, okay? Let’s go home.”

You grip onto him tightly, scared he’ll disappear from your own hands. “Yours,” you whisper, “i wanna go… to yours.”

He nods, even if you don’t properly process it and then his right arm is wounding around your waist, pulling against him as he slips his right arm under your knees. He holds tight but in a way that isn’t anything like the man before and it makes you feel entirely different too.

Safe.

It makes you feel safe.

Enough that finally, your eyes fall shut

When you open your eyes next, you’re in a bed.

And your mind is a lot more clear.

You blink, recognizing the ceiling, and then you’re pushing yourself up. You realize that you’re in one of Jesse’s shirts and a pair of your leggings, meaning he must’ve changed you when he brought you here. You’re thankful for that, and as you prop yourself upwards, you notice the bruises lining your wrists and the one on your arm and frown, touching it faintly, hissing at the pain that radiates as a response.

Then, a pair of footsteps pull your attention towards the door.

Jesse’s eyes widen when he sees you awake and he’s rushing forward, setting the cup of water on the table next to the bed as an afterthought. He falls on the edge of the bed and he moves to reach for you, before suddenly halting, his eyes widening and moves to pull back.

You grab for him before he can, hand falling on his and squeezing as his eyes snap up to yours.

“Thank you,” you whisper, quiet. “For saving me.”

“Fuck,” Jesse curses, face twisting. “I went looking for you everywhere… I couldn’t find you and then I found your fucking car but you weren’t anywhere near it. It wasn’t until I heard you crying that I found you and the sight of that… that man on you–like that, I just—fuck… I could've killed him.”

Letting go of his hand, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“I went to a bar after… after I left and drank too much,” you explain, eyes downcast. “I wasn’t thinking straight and I ended up in that alley and he just… that man just–” You can’t finish your words.

Jesse and you are quiet for a moment.

Then, Jesse shifts. “Listen… um… I understand if you, well—don’t want to see me anymore. I can bring you home and then go find your car for you. It’s no problem. I just…” He hesitates, scratching at his head as he avoids your gaze. “I just—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, especially with Mr. White too or–or for you to get hurt like you did… I should’ve–that never should’ve happened.”

“Jesse,” you whisper, shaking your head. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

He frowns, brows furrowing and he just huffs; “yes, it was…”

It wasn’t. You want to argue but you know he won’t listen.

So you move on.

“I do want to see you still.”

Blinking, Jesse’s eyes snap to yours.

“I know I shouldn’t,” you explain, letting your hands fall into your lap. “I know I should be… be angry or at least scared… but I’m not. I was, in the moment. But I’m not scared of you, I could never be. And I’m not angry or upset either. I just… I just want you.”

You turn to look at Jesse, begging with your eyes and he turns to look at you, hesitating–like he knows this is wrong.

So, so very wrong.

But you just look at him, pleading and he caves even if he shouldn’t. Because he just wanted you too.

So much.

So he caves and he reaches for you, arms grabbing you as he pulls you towards him, into his lap and against his chest and holds you as you cry and cling onto him.

And he never lets go.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman imagine #aaron paul

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devildom-moss · 1 year ago

Note

idk how to verbalise this idea properly so bear with me but: mc whose entire logic in life is 'fuck it we ball' including when it comes to romance, so they just completely go along with any attempts at flirting in a sort of "yes, and-" fashion

which probably only encourages said suitor and then mc has the Audacity to be surprised when it gets intense enough for them to realise they're actually being seduced lol

gn mc with just the brothers for now pls!! thank u for your services

Hopefully this request is what you were looking for. Honestly, I had a bit of confusion while writing, but I tried. I went with headcanons because that seemed like the best fit. Thanks for the request.

gn!MC who casually flirts back with the demon brothers headcanons

(and then has the audacity to be surprised that they're being genuinely pursued)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +2700

Lucifer

Lucifer is an awful flirt, trying so hard to fluster MC and convince them of his dominance. (Where’s it at though? I don’t see it.) His flirting is so suggestive that it’s actually pretty easy to just assume it’s a bit of playful teasing between friends.

For MC, it plays out like those posts that say something and then escalate immediately – something like “Kiss your homies goodnight. Kiss them with tongue. Eat their ass.”

Having an MC who flirts back with him can be a bit embarrassing, and it gets Lucifer’s hopes up so much. (“Could you pour me another cup of coffee, MC?” “Third one this morning, Luci. Not sleeping well?” “I’m afraid not. Perhaps you should come over and help – but then again, we might not get much sleep if you do.” “Aw, Luci, do you want me to fuck you senseless to help you fall asleep?” “If you’re offering, who am I to refuse.”)

He’ll be frustrated that MC keeps flirting with him, but they never follow through.

Lucifer is so horny that it’s absurd. MC could be completely normal, and this man would be thirsting. (“I really don’t want to do this lesson. This chapter is so boring.” “Normally, I wouldn’t use positive reinforcement, but if you complete your work, I’ll reward you.” “What kind of reward?” “Come to my room tonight and find out.”)

Poor MC doesn’t realize they’re being seduced until Lucifer has dragged them into his bed.

“Sleep with me.” “I’m not really tired, Lucifer.” “Good. Then you’ll have plenty of energy to make out and maybe even fuck me – if you want.” His touch would be so intimate – rubbing their inner thigh or groping their ass. “IF I WHAT?!?”

Lucifer would turn pink up to his ears. Part of him thinks MC is just teasing him again, but he would quickly realize that they’re being genuine. He’d feel absolutely humiliated. Did they not want him at all? Did all of that flirting mean nothing?

Before he could die from the shame, Lucifer would manage to blurt out, “Do you want me or not?” He wants some honest commitment in return for his affection, and if MC won’t bring that, that’s unacceptable. Of course, there is some thrill in a chase, but in that moment, Lucifer won’t have it in him. It would be a battle to fight some other day.

If MC tells him no or gives a half-hearted response, he will ask them to leave his room with one hand covering his blushing face. He wouldn’t even be able to look at them as he closed the door – and he’d probably avoid them for a day or two. (Also, he might cry a little after the door is locked).

If MC insists that they do want him, he’ll be especially needy while also acting all sadistic – attempting to tease them to distract from his own embarrassment. This poor loser will require so many kisses to reinflate his ego.

Mammon

To be fair, Mammon would bring this upon himself. He loves to act like he’s uninterested – constantly interrupting his fawning and puppy-like following of MC to save himself from the absolute humiliation of being *gasp* honest about his feelings.

I can see Mammon regularly initiating flirting, but this man can’t follow through to save his own life (maybe to save the life of someone else, though). An MC who reciprocates his flirting would leave him a blushing, flustered mess. Most of the time, his embarrassment cuts the interaction short.

“Ya just can’t get enough of the Great Mammon, can ya?” “Of course not, you handsome devil~” “I- uh! Hmph! Damn right!” he’d say it, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact while the blush rises in his cheeks. How is MC supposed to respond?

If they tease him further and flirt more, he’ll just yell and tell them to knock it off. If they just shrug it off and move on, Mammon will be too flustered to make another move on them that day. The flirtatious spark just kind of fizzles out like a defective firecracker.

It takes a lot of boldness on Mammon’s end to get MC to realize he’s being serious. And honestly, Mammon is so adorable, MC may have the opportunity to take the initiative and push things a little further first. (You want to tell me most MCs could just flirt with Mammon, reducing him to a blushing, aggressive mess, and go back to watching that movie or playing that video game upon Mammon’s belligerent demand, and not want to kiss his face? Okay, sure.)

But let’s ignore that thought and say MC follows Mammon’s flirting in the “yes, and” fashion. After Mammon continuously sabotages his own chances, eventually, he’s going to get so frustrated that he will smother his own shyness long enough to get what he wants.

He’ll get MC alone and string together some make-shift confession – a plea for more. “Ya know, if ya wanna kiss the Great Mammon or somethin’, I’m not gonna stop ya – like, I mean, I want a little more outta ya. So, don’t hold back just cause ya think I don’t want to or nothin’.” (translation: Please kiss me. I know I act like I don’t want you, but I really, really want you to kiss me. Please, please, please.)

His face will burn, and a blush will work its way up to his ears. It’ll be hard to deny the intensity of his feelings, and it will weigh down on MC – a truth previously held in a bag on their back, tethered to dozens of helium balloons that disguised its weight, and then suddenly found every string cut loose by Mammon’s admission. He really loved them. For his confession, all Mammon would get was a stunned but heartfelt “oh.”

He gets so upset and embarrassed that MC didn’t realize he was being serious before. He went on a rollercoaster of emotions; meanwhile, this whole time, they hadn’t even taken his advances in earnest. It’s practically offensive.

The only remedy for Mammon’s bruised dignity is for MC to immediately hold and kiss him until he’s temporarily satisfied. (“Ya owe me big time for not takin’ me seriously.”)

Leviathan

I mean, he kind of has to flirt before MC can flirt back – unless we’re going to count accidentally blurting out his innermost perverted desires as flirting. Sure, I suppose it’s basically flirting to tell someone “It’s sexy when you tell me what to do. I can’t stop imagining you doing that in other settings.”

He’s so bad at flirting that nothing will happen for a long time after he realizes he’s head over heels. Levi is fine spending the rest of his (or at least MC’s) life pining for them – or at least he believes that. But the longing and desire will start to creep in, and he’ll wonder how much he can ask from MC. Friends can hold hands and maybe even cuddle, right? Maybe even kiss? Could they even –?

The thoughts eat away at him until he can’t wait for MC to make the move anymore. It slips out of him like some mating request written by Dr. Suess: “Would you –? Could you –? With an otaku? A gross, disgusting one, too?”

Levi is so visibly flustered that he doesn’t leave much room for ignorance. Even the most extreme masochist wouldn’t subject themselves to the furiously blushing, trembling state that Leviathan had worked himself into. He’d be on the brink of tears. All his hope in the world would be precariously perched on a ledge, awaiting your response.

I can’t see MC not knowing that Levi was attempting to seduce them, but perhaps the timing of it came as a surprise. Or perhaps they had never taken his affection seriously. He has so many favorites that he can’t pursue; just because he has a massive crush on MC doesn’t mean he had plans to act on it.

He will get even more embarrassed and down on himself to know that MC didn’t take him seriously at first. He understands, but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful.

He will require physical reassurance – as much of it as MC is willing to give him. And honestly, if MC doesn’t end up kissing him until he forgets how to think after his confession, he’ll probably hide in his room for a few weeks purely out of shame.

Satan

With an MC like this, the back-and-forth flirting goes on for an inordinate amount of time. Satan is not a flirt by any definition, but when there’s someone he likes, he knows how to turn on the charm. He’s smart, passionate, and mentally quick on his feet; he’s a natural charmer for the right audience.

Satan moves pretty slow when romance is concerned. If Levi wasn’t such a hopeless cause (affectionately), Satan would probably be the slowest to escalate a romantic relationship. He and MC will have a dozen dates under their belts before the desire for more had become an unbearable burden for Satan to silently ignore.

Eventually, Satan would find himself reading in his room with MC, unable to hold back anymore. He would ask, “Would you mind if I kissed you?” “No, I don’t mind if you want to.” “Could I kiss you now?” “Eh, sure.”

Everything up to that point could have been misread as platonic or some casual interest – maybe even curiosity on his end.

But he was serious, and it was evident in the way he approached MC to collect that kiss. He would straddle their hips, set their book aside (face down to mark the page like a real gentleman), and lean down for the kiss. Then, his lips would move against theirs, and the smallest sigh would escape him like a quiet release of sexual tension that had pressurized his entire body. Then, it would all click for MC.

Surprisingly, he wouldn’t be upset or humiliated if MC hadn’t taken him seriously before. In fact, he sees it as more of a personal failing, and in a low, seductive voice, he would tell them, “Allow me to prove how genuine and deep my feelings are for you.”

Asmodeus

He flirts with everyone, so how was MC supposed to know??

He asks them on dates so often. He’s probably the only one who could make out with MC and they’d still think, “yeah, we’re besties” because when Asmo pulls away with a giggle and a grin, telling them how much fun that was, it doesn’t feel serious.

It would take a moment of angst – either Asmo feeling like MC doesn’t take his advances seriously enough (and they don’t) or MC getting down on themselves – for them to realize.

Asmo would pull them into his room and leave small kisses all over them, peppering in compliments. “You’re so gorgeous, and I adore looking at your face.” Then, he would kiss their cheek. “You’re such a sweetheart.” Then, the other cheek. “I always have so much fun when I’m with you. I don’t ever want you to leave my side.” He would kiss their forehead. “I want you to feel confident; you’re such a wonderful soul.” (He would probably add more compliments if MC was feeling self-conscious.)

His words would get sweeter and more honest. “I feel seen in your eyes – like every part of me is accepted. I don’t have to play it up or try.” He would work his way down their neck with soft pecks to their skin. “I want to share everything beautiful in this world with you.” In part to avoid meeting their gaze. “I want to make you smile with everything I have.” And in part so he could whisper the words into their ear. “I want to help you whenever you need me. I’ll sit right next to you through any pain and hardships you encounter.” No one else had earned the right to hear his praise and affection. “I want to be a comfort for you – someone you can return to like a home.”

Finally, he would face them with a striking affection. “You know I’m in love with you, right? It’s not just lust and fun. You’re everything. You matter the most – after me, of course. It’s me and you and everything else.”

Asmo seduces everyone. That isn’t shocking. But this was more than seduction. It was genuine courtship. He won’t fault MC for being surprised. It caught him off guard too.

Beelzebub

Beel is not super flirty, but he makes it known that he cares through his actions. So, there aren’t many opportunities for MC to “yes, and” flirt back with him.

He asks them out to get food often and brings them snacks, but that doesn’t signal any romantic intentions. Sometimes he might stare at MC affectionately or admit how happy he is to spend time with them, but it’s nowhere near intense.

Sometimes, he asks for something more selfish. It starts small: petting his head, holding his hand, hugging him. None of those register as seduction from Beel for MC, especially compared to the affectionate nature of his twin. In fact, no one would fault MC for thinking these were platonic wants. After all, Beel has been through a lot. Sometimes this sweet, big baby boy just needs physical affection.

Then, he would get a bit bolder with his requests: “Could you feed me?” “Can I feed you?” “Would you hold me?”

As innocent and platonic as Beel may seem, he makes a lot of off-hand remarks that sound a bit perverted. “I bet MC’s lips would taste good.” “I wonder what you taste like.” “MC has nice hands. I bet they would feel good…” These comments could open the door for some flirting from MC, though. “Wanna taste me, Beel?” “Should I give you a massage? Or maybe something more?”

MC flirting with him would make his heart race. Even if MC didn’t follow through with their flirtatious offer, it would encourage Beel to keep pushing his luck.

Finally, he would ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Beel would look so shy and embarrassed, holding his hands awkwardly to his chest, that it would be hard not to take him seriously. The question – and his desire – would be a slight shock. Beel wouldn’t mind that MC was surprised, although he would be disappointed if he was turned down.

If MC takes him up on that offer, they will come to realize that his ravenous hunger showed itself through a kiss, too – as if he had been starving for MC’s touch and affection.

Belphegor

He’s so affectionate and cuddly. In that way, he’s similar to Asmo; it’s pretty hard to tell how serious and intense Belphie’s feelings are. He’s just kind of like that.

It’s common for Belphie to ask to be spoiled with affection – head pats, feeding him, hugging him, sleeping together, going out with him, praising him, holding his hand, being his pillow, etc.

His need for attention doesn’t cover up for how flushed his face gets when MC is the one to give him affection. His neediness doesn’t explain how much he clings to MC or how he blushes and tells them not to stop touching him.

So, actually, he’s less flirty than he is demanding of attention. Going along with his demands only encourages him to vocalize and act on more of his desires. He’d even ask permission to kiss them and to be kissed.

MC probably wouldn’t figure it out until Belphie starts sleepily trying to make out with them.

“Belphie, are you half-asleep?” “What? No. I’m awake. Why?” “That was a really heated kiss.” “Of course it was. Can we keep going?” “I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t you like me back? We sleep together, go on dates, cuddle, and you even let me kiss your face and neck whenever I please. Don’t you want to go further?”

It hits them. Belphie can read the look of surprise on MC’s face, and it makes him pout. MC really should have known how he felt by then, but he’s confident that his affection is reciprocated before MC even responds.

“Sheesh. You’re really difficult, you know? I’ve had to do a lot of the work here because you’re so dense.” Belphie would straddle MC’s lap and take off his shirt. “I’ll let it go this time, but you better start putting in more effort from now on.”

A/N: Only about 1 hour left to vote in the poll. And we just got to 100 so y'all are getting 2 posts this month. Genuinely, I typed this a/n up, talking about only needing one more vote, checked it again, and the one vote is no longer needed. Good job, y'all. I swear if there are ties...

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magicalbats · 1 year ago

Text

Flesh-Devouring

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18,177

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

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

⭐

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

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

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

“There you are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… r - really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit down. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’d beg to differ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I don’t think I will.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll file a report …”

“Perhaps you should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… no, sir.”

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

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

Swat!

“Eek! Thank you, sir …”

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

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

“Thank you, sir …”

Swat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could not be serious!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

“Was I supposed to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t really mean that … did he?

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

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

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

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

Swat! Right across the bare strip of your ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, leave it.”

You sputter indignantly. “I beg your pardon?”

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

“… you were serious?”

“Terribly.”

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

You could not believe you were doing this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice place.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the — hey! Wait a second!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s nothing …”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m a virgin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

“Yes, your grace. I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not - -“

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything else, your grace?”

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

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

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

“Y - you just said - -“

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

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

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

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

“Lay down for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it really was okay to be vulnerable with him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir …”

“Good girl.”

His hand suddenly retreats and — swat!

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

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

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

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

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

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

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

And suddenly … it stops.

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

“How are you holding up, little miss?”

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

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

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

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

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

It was … it was kind of nice, actually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. What did you lie to me about?”

“I … I lied about not enjoying it.”

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

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

“How would I possibly accomplish that?”

“I don’t know …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine. I don’t even care, just - -“

Swat!

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

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

“I’m waiting.”

“O - o - one, sir …”

Swat!

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

“I … I - I c - can’t —“

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

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

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

A short pause and then — swat!

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

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

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

Swat!

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

Hysterically, you start to wail.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nine, sir!”

Wriothesley doesn’t even hesitate. Swat!

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

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

Swat!

Archons, you really were going to be sick.

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

Swat!

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

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

Swat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shifts against you and — Swat!

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

Swat!

“Twenty! Ooooh, oh god, oh god!”

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

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

Right?

“Doing good over there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Archons, you're perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Burn that dirty, rotten scoundrel!

⭐

Crossposted: here

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

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siriusblackslefttoenail · 2 months ago

Text

Okay… so this is my first fic and idk how to feel about it. I just kept writing so feedback is welcome, just don't hate on me lol. I tried really hard but I didn't completely proofread it so I'm so sorry if it's messed up in some spots. Also, my first time writing smut so idk I'm sorry if it's horrible. I'm also not super experienced with Tumblr so I don't have fancy dividers or anything :( If someone actually likes what I write I'll figure it out and make it look pretty!!

WC: 7,290

Warnings: SMUT, fast burn there's like no wait time tbh, kinda mentions family death (very briefly), shitty parents mentioned, female character, Bluna mentioned as well as Draco x Pansy, head (female receives), if I forgot any please tell me!!

Summary: Mattheo Riddle meets a girl who captivates him the moment he sees her. She doesn't recognize him until he tells her who he is. The tension breaks and they finally get together!

MUSE

Mattheo knew he was fucked from the moment he knew who and what his father was. Well, he was even more fucked when he had an older brother who was his dad’s right-hand man.

Don’t think that Tom and Uncle Lucius left Mattheo alone because of his lack of respect towards his father. It honestly made his life harder. Always had to sneak out for a smoke instead of just walking through the front door.

Currently, Mattheo is sneaking out through his window from the third floor of Malfoy Manor. He hasn’t yet decided if he wants to go to the roof or leave the grounds completely. The roof would be a safer bet.

Hoisting himself up to the roof he silently thanks his younger self for deciding to join quidditch. He wouldn’t have been able to make it anywhere if he didn’t have muscles.

Finally finding his regular spot he sits and lays his legs out. Takes the pack of cigarettes he’s got from his pocket and lights one with the lighter Theo gave him for his birthday a year ago.

He knew the lighter would soon run out of fuel and he’d need to get a new one. Being in 6th year Mattheo isn’t able to use his wand to light the cigarette so he resorts to the muggle lighters. He has to find a way to get muggle cash though.

While Mattheo’s smoking he hears a door slam. That can’t be good, usually, he’s the one slamming doors. He scoots to the edge of the roof and sees Tom standing on the front lawn. He’s probably looking for Mattheo.

While Mattheo quickly moves back to his spot he hears a girl's voice.

“Dad, I’ll be fine. As I said I know a boy here. He won’t do anything, just figure out your business deal and we can leave.”

Moving back to his previous spot to peer over the roof he sees you. Some girl getting out of a car he doesn’t know the brand of, in this black leather skirt and black long-sleeve top. The top of your boobs spill over lightly showing how tight the shirt is.

Fucking hell, who the fuck is this? Mattheo is questioning whether he should get down or not, that is until he sees Tom walk over to you and shake your hand.

“Tom, it’s good to see you again.” You’re talking to his brother, and you know him? Why doesn’t Mattheo know you? Are you in the same year as Tom?

“It’s good to see you too,” Tom responds and Mattheo watches as the two of you walk inside with your father.

****

Walking into Malfoy Manor I try to remember what Pansy told me about it. It’s old, practically prehistoric as Pansy said. Looking over to my right I see Tom, the same boy who helped me with Advanced Potions last year.

“Thanks for keeping me company while my dad works things out with Mr Malfoy.” I smile at him and he looks at me with the same stoic expression as always. Better than a grimace or a frown I suppose.

Both Tom and I hear footsteps coming down the staircase that’s to our left and turn to see a handsomely built curly-haired boy walk down in black Converse and an all-black outfit.

“That’s my younger brother, Mattheo,” Tom explains, sensing my confusion. Younger brother? How much younger? He’s fucking hot.

“Hi, I’m y/n” I introduce myself as he walks closer. He doesn’t look like Tom at all. Tom is very tall and skinny meanwhile Mattheo is thick and more short, he actually has muscle on him.

“Y/n that’s a pretty name.” He responds shaking my outstretched hand. I smile and give him a small thanks.

“I didn’t know you had a brother Tom.”

“I thought everyone did.” Tom just shrugs and keeps walking to the living room. We follow behind him and sit down on a big black leather couch that’s settled in front of a marble fireplace.

“I’m going into my sixth year,” Mattheo tells me and I smile.

“Why don’t I know you? I’m going into sixth too!”

“How do you know Tom then?”

“Oh, he helped me in Advanced Potions last year.”

“You were in 6th year advanced potions?” While he asks me with wide eyes I just nod and give Tom a smile. He’s not looking at me he’s looking straight at Mattheo. I’m guessing from the tension between them, that they’re not close.

“I play quidditch, I’m on the Slytherin team, I play as a beater.”

“Ah! You’re friends with Draco!” I finally recognize him. He just nods and looks away from me.

“I was partnered with Draco last year in Transfiguration. As well as Nott in Defense Against The Dark Arts!” I don’t know how I never noticed how handsome he was until I was right in front of him.

“Oh yeah, Theo’s my best friend.” Mattheo smiles and scratches his neck.

“Yes, he talked about you a lot. I just didn’t know you were related to Tom or what you looked like exactly. That’s why I didn’t recognize you.” All Mattheo does is nod and I hear Tom chuckle.

“Mattheo is too busy listening to his music and drawing in that silly book of his to even lift his head. I don’t blame you for not knowing who he was, he’s hardly there.” I look at Tom and then back at Mattheo who looks upset.

“What music do you listen to?” I ask moving closer to Mattheo. He releases a wide smile and we start talking about The Smiths and Queen, as well as The Cure. He seems sweet.

“I can’t believe I met a girl who listens to the same music as me.” Mattheo laughs incredulously.

I laugh with him and we notice how Tom got up and left the room. I look at Mattheo and he just shrugs.

“He’s moody. Maybe he’s jealous you’re paying more attention to me.” Mattheo says smirking at me.

“Why would he be jealous? What’s special about me?” I ask, confused

“Because you’re the only girl who talks to him. Well, that and you’re also attractive so it hurts his ego more.” Mattheo chuckles when he’s done talking and I look at him like he’s insane.

“Tom riddle thinking I’m attractive? What has the world come to?” I seriously ask but Mattheo laughs

“Well, it’s very rare to see a girl with Tom so he’ll try to flirt with you but you wouldn’t even know because he’s so bad at it. It must've stung him when you preferred his younger brother over him.” Mattheo is still laughing and I give an awkward chuckle.

“Well, there’s always other people out there for him. Just not me.” I say chuckling along with Mattheo

“Oh, you’re not? Who are you for, y/n?” Mattheo moves his face closer to mine laughing, I get nervous and look away.

“Well, I’m not sure yet but I know it’s not him.”

“Why not Tom?”

“He’s too... uptight and studious. I’m more laid back and I care about my grades but not as much as him. He also doesn’t like muggle things and I plan on living in the muggle world when I graduate.”

“You do? Why?”

“I’m not sure, I think they have brilliant ideas and inventions and I believe the muggle world has more to offer than the wizarding world.”

“I guess you’re right, where in the muggle world would you live?”

“Hmm, probably a big city like New York or Chicago.”

“Oh so in America?”

“Yes, America. I want to go around the States, they have so many beautiful things there.” Mattheo just nods and looks at the dancing fire in the dug-out marble fireplace.

“Y/n let’s go, I’ve finished.” I hear my dad behind me and both Mattheo and I turn to see him.

“Okay, Dad,” I say, rising from the couch and going to stand next to him.

“Nice to meet you, Tom.” My father says to Mattheo.

“Oh no, Dad that’s his younger brother Mattheo.” I laugh slightly

“Oh. Well, tell your brother it was nice meeting him.”

“Yes sir,” Mattheo responds getting up from the couch and walking to the front door to lead us out.

“Thanks, Mattheo, I’ll see you at school,” I say touching his arm lightly before walking out of the house. I swear I see his face blush and I feel heat pool in my stomach. Definitely need to get closer to him.

****

Boarding the train from summer break is always the worst. The station is always too stuffy and cramped. Then you get on the train and it’s even hotter. I’m waving my hand in front of my face in my compartment when the door opens and reveals Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson, my closest friends.

“It’s so hot in this god-forsaken train. You’d think with magic you could cool down a train.” Pansy complains sitting down and wiping her hairline.

I laugh and try to open the train window. Thank god this compartment has a working window. Both Daphne and I sigh as the window opens.

“Oh thank Merlin!” Daphne says moving closer to the window. We always get closer to the front of the train so we don’t have to see students and their families. It’s always too much noise.

The cabin door opening surprises us all.

“Hey, ladies!” Theodore Nott says placing himself right next to my thigh.

“Oh no no no. No way, it’s too hot in the train for the six of you to sit in here with us!” Pansy says pulling Theo up from his spot and pushing him back towards the door.

Draco laughs and puts Theo back next to me and sits next to Pansy.

“You’ll be alright love,” Draco smirks and places his arm around Pansy. She just groans and rolls her eyes knowing it’s no use trying to tell them to leave. I look back towards the door and Blaise has taken his spot next to Daphne and the wall.

Mattheo stands awkwardly with Tom, both of them looking at me. Lorenzo finds the spot next to Theo and both Tom and Mattheo roll their eyes.

They have to sit next to each other and not even by the window. All of our legs rub against each other as the two of them squeeze in.

“Holy shit, can you move over?” Mattheo asks Enzo and Theo.

“Not really no,” Lorenzo responds laughing. Mattheo groans and sits in between Daphne and Pansy.

“Oh!” Daphne says as Mattheo slightly shoves her into Blaise.

“Sorry.” He mumbles and looks out the window.

“So, how were everyone’s summers?” I ask lightly trying to diffuse the tension in the small compartment.

Blaise and Theo start to speak at the same time and eventually agree Theo can speak first.

“Mine was surprisingly very exciting, I went back to Italy by myself to visit my mother's side of the family for the first time since she passed, and my dad was gone almost the whole summer so I was able to do whatever I wanted without being berated!” I could tell in Theo’s voice he was hurting, he was being sarcastic to cover up his sadness about being alone and his mother passing.

When I was partnered with him last year he had opened up a bit and we would talk. I told him about my dad and he told me about his, he also told me about how his mother passed and it truly was a horrible death. I can’t even imagine how 10-year-old Theo coped with that.

Blaise speaks up next and explains how he had to go to his mom’s wedding for his 4th stepfather. He seems pretty over the whole stepdad thing, I mean if I had 4 I would be too. Blaise tells us how he got to go on a muggle cruise in the Caribbean. They stopped in the Bahamas and Cuba. He at least seemed very pleased with the trip his stepfather provided.

“That sounds nice Blaise,” I say smiling, my summer was pretty shitty but I don’t think anyone will ask if everyone says theirs first.

“How about yours?” Theo asks, everyone turning to me.

“Oh-ha it was good. Nothing special.” I try really hard not to sound like I’m lying but I think they all see through it.

“No seriously y/n, how was your summer?” Pansy asks her leg nudging mine lightly.

“I don’t wanna talk about it Pans.”

“Oh okay, no problem.” I look away when she says this so I don’t have to make eye contact with any of them. I don’t want to talk about the fight I had with my dad or the situationship I had with my neighbor.

I look out the window for the beginning of the train ride. I look around the cabin and everyone is either entertaining themselves or talking with someone. Mattheo is drawing with headphones on.

I lift my foot and nudge his shin. He looks up and I nod my head toward the cabin door, hinting at him for us to go somewhere else. He nods at me and puts his headphones away. I nudge his shin again and hint at him to bring the headphones.

“I’m going to the bathroom; I’ll be back,” I say, standing up and slightly running my hand over Mattheo’s shoulder on my way out. I walk away from the cabin door to be out of sight. I watch as Mattheo gets up without saying anything, sketchbook and headphones in hand.

“What’s up?” He asks following me as I move through the aisle.

“I wanted to be with you one on one, you have a problem with that Riddle?”

“No ma’am,” I smirk when he says that, he’s so sassy. I find an empty compartment (surprisingly) and sit down on the bench to the left of the door, Mattheo sits across from me on the other.

“What were you listening to?” I ask laying my legs out on the bench, sitting sideways.

“Just a mix of mine.”

“I’m asking what song, Riddle,” I smirk at him as he adjusts his position, putting his sketchbook beside him.

“Oh, Bigmouth Strikes Again by The Smiths.” I nod at him and reach to grab his Walkman and headphones.

He lets go of them and lets me put the headphones on, I hit the play button and hear the music through the speakers. The volume is at the highest it could be set to.

“Why do you keep the volume so high?” I ask taking the Walkman off and giving it back to him.

“I don’t know, don’t like hearing anything else. I guess.” He shrugs and puts the Walkman beside him as well. I nod and look at his Converse, there are black drawings on the soles of them.

“What do you draw?” I ask looking back up at him, nodding to his shoes and the sketchbook.

“Not much, just people and landscapes, sometimes random objects.” He shrugs again and looks away from me to his shoes. I can’t tell if it’s out of embarrassment or something else.

“Can I see?”

“What?”

“Could I see your drawings?” I ask again

“Uh sure, I guess, if you want.” He grabs his sketchbook and hands it to me. I open a random page and rest the book on my lap. The page I opened has a bird on it, a raven or maybe a crow. I skip to the next page and see a detailed snake wrapped around an old-looking book. He’s very talented.

“You’re good at drawing.” I look up at him and see the apples of his cheeks turn rosy.

“Thanks.”

“I gotta give credit where it’s due.” I chuckle and move to another page. This one has a girl on it, I haven’t seen her before but I guess it could be anyone since it’s a side profile.

“Do you draw anyone specific?”

“Not really, it’s usually just people I think of in my head. I’ve drawn Blaise and Theo before though.”

“Could you draw me?”

“What?” He stutters in awe

“I asked if you could draw me, if not I get it. I’m not much of a muse but your drawings are beautiful and I’d like to see how you view me. I’ve always wanted to be good at drawing.” I smile at him and hand his book back.

“Um, I’d love to draw you. I could teach you some small things too if you’d like.” I see him get nervous slightly and it makes me laugh lightly.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me Mattheo, I’m not going to bite unless you ask me to.” I joke and give him a playful wink before looking out at the mountains through the window.

“I’m not nervous!” He defends himself quickly and clears his throat. I just give a small laugh and get up to sit next to him.

“I’m not gonna judge you Mattheo.” I move his Walkman and sketchbook before sitting down.

“I know, I never thought you would.”

“I like you. You’re cute.”

“What?”

“You��re sweet, I think you’re cool.” I worded it differently this time realizing that it sounded like I fancied him.

“Oh.” He almost seems disappointed when I clarify myself. I look him in the eyes and this is the closest we’ve been since the beginning of summer. He’s pretty to look at.

He has a scar running across the bridge of his nose and a scar through his eyebrow. I wonder if they have something to do with his dad. I don’t ask because we’re not that close yet and if he wants to tell me he will. I find his scars attractive.

“I like your scars,” I say running my finger over the one on his nose.

“Really?”

“Yeah, they make you look badass.” We both laugh and I trace the other small scars with my finger. There’s one on his cheek and one by his eye. I hope they don’t have anything to do with his dad.

“You’re not gonna ask where I got them?”

“No, because if you want to tell me you will. I won’t push.” He just smiles at me and his big brown eyes almost shine as he looks at me. Our faces are so close his nose is almost touching mine. I clear my throat and move back towards the window.

“We should probably head back.” I hear him say and grab his things.

“Yeah.” I get up and follow him through the train to get back to the compartment. When we get there we see Pansy asleep on Draco’s shoulder and Daphne talking with Theo and Enzo. Blaise and Tom are doing their thing. They all look up beside Pansy when we walk in.

“Where were you guys?” Theo asks moving towards Tom to give me my spot back.

“We took a walk,” I respond, sitting down and smiling at Enzo and Theo.

“Oh okay. Tom told us you listen to the same music as Mattheo.” Draco tells me

“I do, we talked about it when I saw him and Tom over the summer.”

“When were you over during the summer?” Draco asks since they also live in Malfoy Manor.

“It was at the beginning of the summer, my dad had a business deal with your dad so I accompanied him.”

“Oh, I must’ve been with Pansy.” As Draco says that Mattheo confirms and says Draco was with Pansy that day.

“Well, that’s a good thing that someone likes the same things as mattheo,” Enzo says smiling at me

“Whys that?” Mattheo lets out, nudging Enzo with his Converse.

“You get lonely sometimes when we hang out with other people. Like Blaise and Luna, Draco and Pansy.” Enzo responds

“So you’re saying a girlfriend,” I ask Enzo

“Kind of? But you don’t have to date for you guys to be friends. It’s just having someone that’s not us, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” I respond smiling at Mattheo. He doesn't meet my gaze.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts soon,” Blaise says looking out the window. I nod and grab my bag from under the seat to put it in my lap.

****

Sitting in the great hall was always lonely because I’m a Ravenclaw and many Ravenclaws don’t like me because of my father’s reputation. I usually sit by myself since other house students can’t sit with each other. It’s a stupid rule, they want us to connect but we can’t sit together? Make it make sense.

I look up from my spot and look for Daphne and Pansy at their table but instead of seeing them, I see Mattheo looking at me. I give a small wave and a smile. He smiles back and it's the first time I've seen him smile. Seeing it now makes me want to see it all the time, I want him to smile constantly especially if it's at me.

I've always thought most Slytherin Quidditch players were attractive. I guess I never noticed Mattheo’s name and more of him physically. He was always attractive I just didn't know who he was directly other than the second Slytherin Quidditch beater.

I rest my head on my palm and wait for Dumbledore to stop talking and start the feast. The first year sorting always takes about half an hour so we sit here for a while before we even get to eat.

It's really annoying, I just want to eat my favorite meal; pasta with vodka sauce, meatballs, and garlic bread.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and it’s a little girl.

“Hello,” I say giving her a confused smile.

“Do you mind if I sit with you? I get it if you don't want a first-year sitting next to you.” This little 11-year-old girl is asking to sit with me and expects me to say no, she's the sweetest-looking kid ever.

“Of course, you can sit next to me,” I reply, and her face lights up and she sits to my left. “I'm y/n,” I say smiling

“I'm Charlotte.” She gives me a bright smile as Dumbledore finishes his speech and the food appears on the tables. She's so cute.

I scoop myself some pasta and meatballs and put it on my plate, offering some to Charlotte. She agrees and tells me it's her favorite.

“It's my favorite too!” I say grabbing two pieces of garlic bread

“Can I have garlic bread- Thank you!” She asks right as I give her the second piece I picked up.

We eat and chat and she tells me about her younger brothers and how she's a half-blood. I nod along and talk when I should.

While talking about the school and classes, I offer to help her around the castle the first couple of days since it's such a big school.

After dinner, we get up and I show her to the Ravenclaw common room, telling her the classrooms and bathrooms as we pass them. I tell her you have to solve a riddle to open the door to the common room and she seemed nervous about it.

That was until we got to the door and she got the riddle before I did. She laughed at me and I laughed back telling her how smart she is.

Look, I know she's 11 and she's almost a teenager but I don't think treating someone so young like they're already grown up is right. I don't want her childhood to end because people expect so much from her.

I grew up in a household where if you didn't understand what was going on it wasn't going to be baby-fied. You had to figure it out on your own. Now, I don't know how to ask for help or admit that I'm not doing well to other people.

So if I can help this one girl know that it's okay to be childish sometimes I'll be happy. As long as she knows school isn't about just learning, it's about finding out who you are and the people who deserve to be around you. It took me too long to figure that out.

I show Charlotte the dorms and we find hers so I can drop her off and let her unpack, I tell her I'll see her in the common room in the morning before breakfast.

Walking out of the common room I go all the way down to the dungeons, it's a regular thing that Pansy, Daphne, and I celebrate the new school year with each other. They're probably bringing their boyfriends so I guess I could ask mattheo if he isn't going already.

I say the password to the Slytherin common room and walk up to the girl's dormitories. Finding Pansy and Daphne’s I knock and wait for one of them to open the door. Daphne opens it and gives me a hug.

“How was dinner?” she asks me while going back to sit on her bed.

“It was good, I made friends with this little first year in Ravenclaw.”

“Awe is she cute?”

“She is actually. She seems very smart.”

“Wow, shocker,” Pansy says laughing while coming out of the bathroom with wet hair.

“We've been over this Pans, being in Ravenclaw doesn't automatically make you smart.” I roll my eyes and sit on Daphne’s bed.

Pansy just laughs and takes black nail polish out of her bedside table.

“Is Draco and Theo coming to the hangout tonight?” I ask leaning on Daphne’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you gonna ask Riddle to come?” Pansy asks wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“I might, he's cute.”

“And super strong!” Daphne says giggling

“He is strong but he's cuter, drawing and listening to music is so sweet. Boys don't do that anymore.” I say smiling at the ceiling thinking about Mattheo.

“Well you should probably go and tell him now if you want him to come.” Pansy says now applying the nail polish to her fingers and toes. I get up and nod.

“Alright, I'll be back.”

Leaving their dorm and walking to the boys’ dorms feels weird. I never go to boys’ dorms. I've never hooked up with any of the boys at Hogwarts so I don't go to the boys’ side ever.

I look at all the metal nameplates on the front of the wooden doors to each dormitory trying to find Riddle.

“You lost pretty girl?” I hear someone ask behind me. I turn quickly and see Marcus Flint.

“Not particularly, thanks, Flint,” I say turning forwards and returning to look for Mattheo’s name.

I finally find it and knock on the door. I hear shuffling behind the wood and then a muffled “fuck”.

Mattheo opens the door slightly peeking his head out and sees me.

“Oh, y/n, do you need something?”

“I just had a question but if you're busy I could come back.” I say pointing back to where I came from.

“No no, I'm not busy. Give me two seconds I have to put pants on.” I nod and he closes the door. Wait, put pants on? Was he pantless while he opened the door? I feel my face flush and I just look at my shoes until I hear the door open again.

I look up and mattheo is in grey sweatpants and shirtless. My mouth salivates just looking at him, holy shit.

“Alright, sorry about that. Come in.” he opens the door wider and kicks something into the closet beside the door.

“Don't be sorry.” I reply looking around his room. He has a triangular Slytherin flag above his bed and a The Smiths poster next to his desk. I smile as I look at it and then turn towards him and the door. The whole wall is covered in sketches that must be from an old sketchbook of his.

“Oh wow. I love this wall.” I say walking closer to it and looking at all the sketches.

“Thanks, they're old though, from last year and even before then.” I nod to his words and remember what I came here to ask him.

“Oh, right, I was wondering if you wanted to come to Pansy and Daphne’s dorm to hang out for the new school year with us, Draco, and Theo?” I feel my cheeks heat up as I ask him.

“Oh, like as your date?” he scratches his neck and I feel regret seep into my bones.

“Um, not necessarily! Just to hang out if you'd like to. I mean you could consider yourself my date or not it doesn't matter.” My face gets redder with every word I speak. I'm embarrassing myself.

“I would love to be your date for a hang out.” he chuckles and I smile at him

“Oh really? Thank god I was so scared you were gonna make fun of me or something.” I say laughing my anxieties off.

“No, I would never turn down a pretty girl's invite to hang out with her.” I blush as he says this and his smile broadens. I love his smile.

“I adore your smile,” I say slightly tilting my head at him.

“Oh, you do?” he asks, self-consciously.

“I do.” I smile

“Thank you.” his cheeks turn red as well as his neck. I rake my eyes across his body and notice the slight bulge in his pants. Fucking hell. He notices me staring and smirks.

“What's wrong y/l/n?” he taunts, moving closer to me. My face warms and I try not to look back down at his pants.

“Nothing’s wrong Riddle,” I respond, I can feel my thighs rubbing together.

“You sure? Looks like you're a bit… flustered.”

I let out a choked laugh and moved backward into his desk. I grip the edge of the table and make eye contact with him. His already dark eyes have deepened and I could've sworn lust was swirling through his pupils.

“Nope, I'm all good Riddle.” I say, standing up straighter. I'm not going to back out and cower that's not who I am.

“Alright, whatever you say y/l/n,” he responds chuckling, hands in mock surrender.

“Are you doing alright?” I ask back to see if I can give him the same effect.

“As good as new, thanks for asking,” he smirks

“You're sure?” I press

“I mean, I'm a bit warm but that's about it.” his smirk deepens now

“Warm how?”

“I'm warm as in overheating, darling.”

“Ahh, see I'm not hot and I'm in a jumper, you're shirtless, what's making you so warm Mattheo?”

“Well, I have a very sexy woman in front of me and she's not taking a hint so I'm getting a bit impatient.” my eyes widen and my cheeks flush even darker.

“What hint?” I ask

“The hint that I want to bend her over and fuck her right on the desk she's leaning on,” Mattheo says with such confidence that I feel my legs weaken.

“You what?” I whisper, completely stunned

“You need me to repeat myself? Or can I show you what I'm hinting at?”

“You can show me.” I look up at him as he stalks closer to me. His large hand grips my waist and I feel his body heat making me flush even warmer.

“You okay with this?” he asks before going any further. I nod and he shakes his head at me.

“Words darling, I need words.”

“Yes, I'm okay with this.” He smiles and lowers himself to his knees. My eyes widen and my legs unconsciously part for him. He continues to look up at me while he pulls my skirt down as well as my underwear.

While I step out of my skirt and underwear I watch him look down at my vagina as well as my arousal dripping down my thighs. His tongue wipes against his lips and he smiles up at me.

“Can I?” he asks

“Yes, please Mattheo.” I practically whine to him. He immediately moves his face in between my legs and licks a stripe on my folds. I lean my head back and whine out loud.

“Ohh gods Mattheo” I feel my legs buckle and his strong arm wraps around my waist to keep me up.

His tongue splits my folds and goes to my clit, while he smears my arousal around his fingers inch up my thigh, and pokes at my anticipating hole. I look down at him and he's already looking at me.

While he laps at my clit his pointer finger pushes through my hole and straight to as far as his finger could go. I moan and rock my hips against his face, needing the friction. He adds his middle finger and my head indistinctly rolls back against my shoulder.

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten and I know I'm close. I beg Mattheo to go faster and he complies. His fingers squelch while pushing in and out of me. This is the most pleasure I've ever felt, what will it feel like when he's in me?

I'm a whining mess until Mattheo pulls his face back and kisses my thighs.

“Noo, go back!!” I beg and try to push my hips back against his face.

“Patience sweet girl. I'll make you feel good I promise.” I whine and wiggle my hips to make his fingers move in me again.

“Please Mattheo!” I beg him and I feel my eyes well up with tears.

He looks up at me with a frown and stands, pulling his fingers out of me causing me to cry out. He kisses me and I can taste myself on his lips. He grasps my waist and picks me up, setting me on his bed.

I look at him and he's untying his sweatpants. Oh, thank god. I tug at his arms and start to wrap them around me. After he's completely bare other than his boxers I lift my blouse up and drop it to the floor.

He moves closer to me and gives me a passionate kiss. While he distracts me he easily unclips my bra and takes it off my arms. Reaching down to put it on the floor he comes back up, hands resting on my breasts. His forefinger and thumb rubbing my nipples between them.

My head leans back while I groan. His mouth comes to my neck and leaves sloppy kisses against it. He starts to suck on my collar bone and I know it's going to leave a mark. To be honest I'm not that upset about that fact.

“Fuck Matt I need you,” I whine grabbing one of his hands off my breast and in between my thighs, trying to relieve the pain of my lust.

“Alright, princess I got you.” his boxers drop, and my hands immediately reach for his cock. While he kisses me again I rub my thumb over his tip to gather his pre cum to lube up his dick. He groans into my mouth and bucks into my hand.

“Fuck, can't take it.” he takes my hands off him and lays me back against his plush duvet. He grips my legs and rests them on each of his shoulders. I see him look around the room and I get confused.

“What are looking for?” I groan, wiggling my hips to his.

“A pillow.” he drops my legs softly and grabs one of his pillows from the top of his bed. He walks back over and puts it underneath my back.

“There.” he says picking my legs back up onto his shoulders and kisses my thighs. I whine again when his tip teases against my clit. I'm getting impatient.

“Mattheo please-” right as I say that he thrusts into me and I feel like I've been split in half. We both let out groans and he leans his head against my thigh.

“Fucking hell,” he moans, sucking onto my thigh

Meanwhile, I'm adjusting to the size of his dick inside of me. I'm panting and watching him suck and nibble on my thighs.

“Move, please” I beg, out of breath, he complies and slowly leaves me before thrusting back into me before I could even register he left me in the first place.

Mattheo sets a quick pace while watching my tits move up and down on my chest. He's mumbling to himself and biting into my thigh until he leans down and takes my left nipple into his mouth. While I'm groaning he takes his left hand and reaches between us to lightly tease my clit.

“Ohhh Mattheo I'm so close!” I whine gripping onto his hair that's in my face. He moves away from my chest and gives me a hasty and wet kiss against my lips.

“Wait baby, can you do that for me?” he asks taking his free hand and pressing down on my lower tummy. His cock bruising my cervix. The action makes me throw my head back and cry out.

“Shhh pretty girl I know I know” he eases upon my clit focusing on his pace and how much aggression he puts into each thrust.

“Can you wait for me, baby?” he asks again, and I nod breathlessly

“Y-es I can, I can,” I whine and reach for him and he picks his hand up from my abdomen and interlaces our hands together.

“Baby, I'm close, where do you want me to cum?” he asks slowing his pace a bit

“I don't care! Anywhere!” I'm so close and him slowing is leaving me on the edge.

“Sweetheart this is your decision.” he's also breathless as he speaks to me

“In me! In me please!” I beg with wide eyes, I feel warm tears run down my cheeks

“Okay, sweet girl.” he fastens his pace and I'm moaning so loudly I already know his dorm neighbors can hear me.

I'm so close, the knot in my stomach quickly coming undone and I squeeze his hand as I cum over his cock. My pussy clenched and it makes him lay his forehead on mine and shoot his load inside of me, painting my walls with a sticky white.

He stays inside of me as we both pant and catch our breath. He's lying on my chest and I can feel his cum dripping down and onto his pillow.

He lifts his head and smiles at me.

“Stay like this,” he demands quietly and pulls out of me, causing me to whine out and he presses a fast kiss on my lips before quickly walking to his desk and grabbing his sketchbook and pencil.

“What are you doing?” I ask sitting up

“No no! I said stay like this!” he pushed me bsck down lightly and sat beside me. He opens his sketchbook and quickly starts to draw.

“Are you drawing me?” I ask incredulously

“Mhm, you're my muse.” he responds without even looking up at me. I feel myself flush at his words and then I feel his cum dripping out and making me sticky and uncomfortable.

“Matty,” I whisper making him look up at me

“Can we clean up first? I feel sticky.”

“Oh shit yeah, I'm sorry.” he drops his sketchbook beside me and rushes to the bathroom connected to his dorm to get a warm washcloth to clean my legs up.

I whine softly at the touch, still sensitive. He shushes me quietly and kisses the bite marks he left on my thighs. They're already turning a dark shade of red.

He fixes himself up and then grabs my underwear and puts them back on me slowly. He walks to his closet and takes out a green Slytherin shirt and asks me to sit up so he can put it on me. I lift my arms and he lets it fall on me. He steps back and mumbles something to himself.

“Hm?” I ask laying back down

“What?” he asks

“What did you say to yourself just now?”

He flushes before saying,

“Oh, I said you looked beautiful in my shirt. You're perfect to be my muse.” I smile and open my arms for him to lie with me. He welcomes my embrace and kisses my neck softly.

“Well, I can pose for you now, if you'd like.”

“Yes,” he says with enthusiasm and moves back to his position from before

We sit there for about 15 minutes in a comfortable silence before he tells me he's finished. He flips the sketchbook for me to see and its probably the most beautiful drawing I've ever seen.

“That's how you see me?” I ask, in disbelief

“Yes, absolutely stunning.” I blush and give him a big kiss on the cheek

“Such a gentleman Mattheo Riddle.” I smile and lean back to lie down on his bed.

“What time do we need to go to Daphne and Pansy’s?” he asks putting his sketchbook away. I sit up quickly with a gasp.

“Oh my god!! I totally forgot!” I say getting up and rushing to put my skirt on.

“Hey hey, it's okay, it's only 10.” I look at him with wide eyes

“We need to go right now,” I say grabbing his hand.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he asks grabbing my shirt and my bra. I roll my eyes and wave him off

“Why are you acting like I won't be back after the hangout? You don't want me here?” I joke with him but he takes it seriously, eyes going wide and stumbling over his words

“Of course not! I didn't know you'd want to come back!” I look at him and laugh.

“Why wouldn't I want to come back??” I ask in disbelief

He just shrugs and looks away. I pull his arm lightly and remind him we have to go. He nods and we quickly walk to their dorm. We knock on the door and Theo opens it.

“Well well well, look who decided to arrive!” he says opening the door more to show the rest of the group. Daphne looks at the hickey on my neck with wide eyes and gets up to inspect it.

“Umm Mr. Riddle care to explain yourself?” she asks, jokingly

“She's my muse.”

“Your muse?” Draco asks

“Yes my muse, she's the most perfect thing for me to draw.” he smiles holding me close to him while we walk into the dorm.

“I didn't know THE Mattheo riddle had feelings other than anger and boredom!” Pansy laughs at her own joke as well as the others. Mattheo just glares at them and I smile up at him.

“Well, don't let us ruin your fun night! Go have fun, wear protection though!” pansy says getting up and pushing us out of their dorm. She closes the door on our faces and we just look at each other. Mattheo shrugs and picks me up bridal style. I squeal and laugh lightly.

He walks us to his dorm and lies me back down onto his bed against his pillows. He takes the pillow we fucked on and puts it in his hamper. He lies down next to me and pulls me into his chest. I breathe in his cologne and I immediately feel like I'm home.

“Do you feel like you've known me for years or is it just me?” I ask looking up at him.

“No, I feel it too.” he responds kissing my forehead. I feel my eyes get droopy and Mattheo starts to play with the ends of my hair.

“Rest, sweet girl, I'll be here when you wake up” he kisses my forehead again and I feel myself drift off, happy for the first time in a while.

#mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheoxreader #mattheo smut #mattheo x you

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