#waldorf

Inspector LaBrea had The Muppet Show cancelled due to noise levels caused by Waldorf and Astoria booing the closing of the show.

Source:

Blair Waldorf x reader

Blairs little charity case proving her worth before one of her mums parties.

Warnings:

Dubcon if you squint, smut with a little plot, classism, not much else

You were her pretty little pet.

A little charity case for her to pour all her time into. Regardless of your families’ healthy financial circumstances (she would never stoop so low as to spend this much time with some sort of commoner).

No, you were more like a social charity case.

Lonely little new girl, flown over from England with your parents and their old money. 

Sent into Constance with your neat uniform, not a hair out of place. Completely out of your depth.

God you could be so so powerful and you didn’t even know it.

A shy little thing that stuck to yourself and spent more time reading than daring to have social interactions with your new classmates.

Well until Blair that is.

As soon as she set her pretty brown eyes on you, she knew what you could be.

The kind of perfect socialite she could mould you into. Her pretty little prize.

Her little minions hated you.

God, they despised you.

How couldn’t they.

They’d spent years following after Blair. Attending to her every whim. 

And in you come, ditzy little Brit, not a care in the world, and you and Blair’s undivided attention.

They didn’t know what she saw in you. Even Blair wasn’t completely sure.

Maybe it was your pretty smile. The way your lips turned up every time she looked at you like a puppy.

But then again, maybe it's your hair. God knows it's so soft beneath Blair's fingers.

The way she plays with it between her fingers every day, sat at the steps of the met for lunch, with you between her legs below her, where you belong. 

The way she was playing with it now, her eyes locked on the pages of whatever designer label novel she's currently pretending to read, her fingers, tugging and twisting and yanking at your hair. 

A particularly rough yank has you wincing, and her gaze slides to you around her book. Pretending she wasn’t watching you. Watching your expression.

The hand is rougher now, pulling your head back so that she can look at you as she coos, "Are you paying attention, pet?"

god you look so pretty beneath her.

She doesn’t expect an answer really, you know she likes you quiet. Your pretty mouth shut unless she needs it for some other reason.

But you nod along silently anyway, eager to please.

She releases your chin, satisfied, and the hand that was toying with your hair reaches up to pat your head as her eyes drift back down to her book. 

Her free hand pats her lap once, a gesture you know well, she demands your attendance, and who are you to deny her wishes?

You immediately comply, crawling forward to rest between her slender legs.

You're so well behaved.

She takes to running her fingers through your hair again, massaging your neck and scalp as you bury your face in her thighs.

 A pleased sigh escapes her lips, and you know, just know, that she's smirking in that condescending manner that always leaves your cheeks warm.

Blair closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cheek against her skin, soft and smooth. 

Her fingers still play idly in your hair, tugging and twisting and smoothing the locks with each movement. 

She loves how easily you submit to her, how you melt in her hands like a doll for her to play with. "Good girl." She murmurs, her voice a low purr.

“Go on” she commands simply, pushing your head down towards her crotch when she gets too impatient. It’s clear what she wants from you.

She chuckles darkly when you respond to her command with immediate obedience, your face buried into her lap. Her hand is still tangled in your hair, guiding you exactly where she wants you.

She shifts in her seat, her legs falling open to permit you better access. "Such a good girl," she murmurs, her grip on your hair tightening. "Now, be a darling and be useful”

She’s not asking.

And you’re quick to succumb to her commands.

You press your nose into the tender flesh of her inner thigh and try to swallow down your nervous anticipation. 

She's clearly in a good mood today, her praise only enhancing the warmth in the pit of your stomach. You know what she's expecting of you, and you know that you're more than willing to give it to her.

Her hand in your hair holds you in place, not that you'd move away anyway.

Blair looks down at you, chin resting in her palm, and arches her brow in anticipation. She's curious to see how you'll respond to her command, her grip in your hair a steady reminder of who's in control. "Well?" She prompts, her voice low and commanding. "Go on, darling. Amuse me."

You hesitate for only a moment before obeying, pressing a soft kiss against her thigh. You hear her breath hitch when your lips make contact with her skin, though her hand in your hair never relents its firm hold. 

Spurred on by the small hitch, you continue to kiss along her inner thigh, slowly moving upward towards the edge of her skirt. To her lace underwear.

Blair watches your every move with a sharp gaze, her lips curling into a small smirk. She adjusts herself in her seat, spreading her legs a little wider as she does so. 

She loves watching you, loves seeing how obedient you are beneath her. Every soft kiss against her thigh sends a jolt of pleasure through her, and when your lips reach the hem of her underwear, she lets out a soft hum of approval.

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers twisting in your hair. "Keep going."

Her voice is a little breathy now, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine. 

You continue to kiss along her underwear, not yet lifting it, growing ever closer to the apex, but her grip in your hair prevents you from going any further.

Blair is losing her composure now, her breathing becoming ragged as your lips move closer and closer to the place she wants you most.

 She can't help but wonder how far she can push you, how long you'll let her dictate this little encounter. Her grip in your hair tightens again, and she uses it to tilt your chin up to look at her.

"Look at me," she commands softly, her eyes locking onto yours. You can see the desire and the hunger burning within them, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest. 

She's enjoying this, enjoying how pliant you are beneath her. She runs her thumb over your bottom lip, smearing away the last of your lipstick.

"You're so beautiful like this," she whispers, her gaze roaming over your face. 

Her free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the cold press of her rings sending a shiver through you. 

She pushes a finger into your mouth, smirking at how you immediately close your lips around it, sucking gently.

“You’re going to have to fix your makeup” she tuts at you, smearing the lipstick across your face even more, “can’t have you looking like this for my mother’s party, can we?”

She keeps her smirk as she rubs her thumb over your mouth, spreading the evidence of your encounter across your face in bold streaks. 

You can see the mischief in her eyes, the way she's enjoying herself immensely. her tone casual. "I'd hate for you to embarrass me in front of the company. We can't have that now, can we, pet?"

She stares down at you for a moment, holding onto your hair tightly before pushing your head back down again, “get to it”

You don't hesitate, immediately obeying her directive as her hand guides you back down to where she wants you. Her touch is firm and ungentle, but you don't falter, you know exactly what she wants, and you're only too willing to give it to her.

“Gonna show everyone what a good charity case you are tonight” she muses, pushing your head against her core harshly, not a bother for your comfort.

You work your way to her quickly, eager to please her (and perhaps make her loosen her harsh grip on your hair and head). Pushing her delicate underwear aside, licking and kissing up her.

After a minute, you go to pull away, only for a second, to catch your breath from the way she unrelentingly pushed your face into her body, keeping you close in-between the squeeze of her thighs.

But she doesn't allow it, her grip unyielding as she holds you there, pressed against her flesh. Her breathing is ragged now, her chest heaving with each inhale. Her eyes are dark and dilated, watching you with a mixture of desire and satisfaction.

Her thighs close around your head quickly as you try to pull back, only making you try and pull even more, slightly panicked.

She slaps your cheek quickly.

Her hand snaps against your cheek, the sharp smack of it filling the air. The pain is sharp, stinging your skin, but there's no apology in her gaze, only an expression of twisted satisfaction. It makes the heat deep in your gut burn even hotter.

"No breathing breaks," she coos in a mocking tone, tilting your chin up to look at her. "We're just getting started. Now, be a dear and pay attention to what you're doing." She pushes your head back down, forcing your face against her thigh once more.

You nod quickly, getting a second before rushing back to complete your job.

You know she wouldn’t accept anything else.

Her grip tightens in your hair as you redouble your efforts, each desperate attempt drawing a pleased hum from her. She's relishing in your submission; in the power she holds over you. The pain is just an added thrill, another layer to her pleasure.

"That's it, darling," she praises, her voice soft and cold. "Don't you look so pretty down there on your knees for me."

You can tell she's fully enjoying this, loving every moment of having you at her mercy. She's pushing you now, guiding your mouth and your tongue exactly where she wants. She's in total control, and she knows it.

The hand that's tangled in your hair is pulling now, pushing and tugging you closer against her. She's getting impatient, wanting more, wanting you to give her everything. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the air, mixing with the soft hums and moans that escape her lips.

“Faster," she commands through gritted teeth, and you eagerly comply, picking up the pace. Her grip is tight in your hair, keeping you in place as she continues to guide your movements.

You can tell she's close now; you can see the subtle shift in her expression, the way her chest rises and falls a little faster, the way her thighs tense with anticipation.

"That's it, darling," she coos, her voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? On your knees, doing as you're told. Just obeying every command like the little pet, you are."

Her words send another thrill of heat through you, adding fuel to the already burning fire in the pit of your stomach. You can feel her thighs trembling against your face, knowing that she's close.

"Don't you stop," she hisses, her hand in your hair pulling you even closer. "Don't you dare stop." She's close now, you can tell, her grip on you growing even tighter.

"You better please me," she adds, her voice cold and harsh. "Or I'll make sure you regret it." There's no kindness in her threat, but the thought of her disappointment only drives you wilder.

She's reaching her peak now, her breath coming in ragged gasps as your lips and tongue continue their work. Her grip on your hair tightens almost painfully, but you don't falter, not with her so close.

"There you go," she purrs, the first real hint of satisfaction entering her voice. "Just like that, just—" But her words are cut off as the wave of pleasure washes over her, her body arching off the seat and her head lolling back.

Her grip in your hair loosens, and you're able to pull away, finally taking a much-needed lungful of breath. Your face is flushed and wet, and you know you look every bit as wrecked as you feel.

She's watching you with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your efforts. She takes a moment to admire her handiwork, taking in your disarrayed appearance. "You look a mess." She muses, her tone lacking any hint of sympathy. "But then, you're always prettiest like this.

She releases her grip on your hair, running her fingers through the dishevelled mess almost affectionately. "Clean yourself up," she says in a condescending tone. "Can't have you looking like you just came up for air, darling. Someone might get the wrong idea.”

You nod quickly, the back of your hand wiping against your mouth as you gathered yourself, still sat on your knees in front of her.

She chuckles softly, clearly amused by how obedient you are to her commands. "Hurry now," she adds, the condescension back in her voice. "Can't have you keep the guests waiting. You'd ruin my fun."