*Wade running his hand over Logan's knuckles and pressing down on where the claws come out from*
*Logan's reflex response is to put out his claws (which he didn't know because no one's played with his hands before)*
*Logan's claws shoot out and cut off some of Wade's fingers on the hand that was playing with Logan's knuckles*
Logan: shit- I am so sorry bub- fuck-
Wade: *giggles* Awww that's adorable! Look at those little kitty claws!
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girl to ADD to that clit spanking thing, he does it multiple times instead of spanking your arse and you end up accidentally coming (without permission and he is FURIOUS)
waking up to this prompt was a transcendental experience. i had to reread this a few times over so as to make sure that it was real. lacking any poetry, simply put, i need to state — this is everything.
he's already irritated with your behavior and noncompliance beyond belief, and therefore merely intent on punishing you for the time being. let's say you were being so bratty and had been talking back to him so profusely that he just halted mid-stroke, pulled out, and flipped you on your back. now his palms are firmly braced around you; the two of you are breathy, hot bodies still in quivering coalescence with one another. you're stunned due to having been pulled out of so rapidly, palpitating vigorously and driving your thighs closer together as a result — your orgasm had been looming so closely mere seconds prior.
henry isn't letting you shut your legs on him, however, instead prying them back apart. he blows a gust of cool air unto your clit, at which you give a succession of hearty throbs, and wait for him to choose his next move. it comes within the next few intakes of breath — he slaps it. dismayed, you draw air briskly and let your mouth hang agape, and for a good reason — he strikes again, and again, and again. his palm is relentless upon the most sensitive part of your body, and because you had already been so undeniably close before, you give in to the grandiose shudder of your orgasm and come.
due to your formerly bratty disposition, you let the fact be known to him as obviously and provocatively as you can manage — you moan out with obscene volume, trembling beneath him as the bliss rolls through your body in sweltering, billowing waves.
in response, he is aghast. although it is astonishment his face is scrunched up in at first, it is quickly veiled by ire instead. he's angry — muscle-twitchingly so. appalled, he pulls away and drags his palm across his face, "god damn you. aren't you aware that you're not supposed to enjoy a punishment?" his voice is dangerously low and silent — one could even say he's at a loss for words.
as a result of this pattern of noncompliance and brazenness, you're not fucked again that night. in fact, you only get to see him getting himself off right in front of your eyes, panting and groaning on his merry own — something he never does but is forced to resort to due to your shameless misbehavior. you, on the other hand, are not touched anew even once; his justification for the lack of contribution is that you've already come before, and it must be enough — he doesn't listen to a single whimper, whine, or plea.
next time, you keep in mind to be a little more respectful.
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I keep my shoes in their lil boxes stacked by my front door because there is power in numbers and while my cat will fully attack a shoe or box left on its own, she fears the might of The Tower, and so yes I am very much aware of how god awful it looks to have a tetris statue erected to the Great & Powerful Consumerism right there in the entrance, but the alternative is to shove them into my closet and forget they all exist for several years again
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