Fic: Journalistic Integrity (Hugo/Rita Skeeter)
Title: Journalistic Integrity
Characters/Pairings: Hugo/Rita Skeeter
Rating: Adult
Summary: Hugo’s reached a point where his tolerance of the freedom of the press has been exceeded.
Word Count: 2500
Warnings: Large age disparity, Hugo’s 17
Series: Takes place during Hugo’s 7th year in Hugo’s Conquests verse.
A/N: I am so glad there are a few of y’all enjoying this series (since I know it's not everyone's cuppa)! I am having such fun writing it, and I’m happy some of y’all like my Hugo! <3 This pairing was suggested by tamlane.
Based on the Taboo Tuesday prompt feather play at hp_het_Taboo.
The article is published in early November. When Hugo reads the title and sees the byline (Hero of the Second Voldemort War a Sex Addict? by Rita Skeeter), he expects it to be another scathing attack against his mum from a woman who seems to be rather obsessed. Instead, he reads a ridiculous claim that his father is a sex addict who has been seen with at least a half dozen women since his divorce with rumors sited as fact. There’s not even an attempt to be subtle at the accusation that his mum is frigid, withheld sex for most of their marriage, and now his poor father is an addict.
It’s such tripe that Hugo considers buying up every copy in Hogsmeade for his classmates to use as paper in the loo. Only the fact that damp newspaper would likely spread ink into their nether regions prevents him from actually doing it. Obviously, it’s more amusing than harmful, and no one is giving him awkward stares the way they did after some of the articles published during the divorce, but he’s reached a point where his tolerance of the freedom of the press has been exceeded.
Rita Skeeter has a grudge that seems to go back to when his mum was barely a teenager, and that’s far too long for her to have to endure petty attacks thinly disguised as journalistic integrity.
It takes time to plan an appropriate form of comeuppance. As he plots, he receives owls from his father, telling him there’s no addiction of any sort and not to read that rubbish published in the Daily Prophet, and he receives owls from his mum, who finds the situation rather humorous considering she’s finally given in and is playing the game with him. Ron’s half-dozen girlfriends over the last eighteen months doesn’t quite compare to shagging one’s own son and nephew, after all.
The first Saturday in December is when Hugo’s plan comes together. He enlists the help of Rosmerta, who is happy to agree after he’s exhausted her with his cock in her arse and a liquor bottle in her cunt at the same time. He’s opened her mind to the possibilities of non-traditional wanking aides, after all, so it’s the least she can do. The ‘private interview’ is easy to arrange. Once Rosmerta mentions his name, she tells him that Skeeter is sniffing around like a bitch in heat, so it’s easy to arrange a meeting in a room at the Three Broomsticks so they can have privacy as he spills family secrets she expects will ruin his parents.
When Hugo arrives, he sets the room for his scene. Unlike Skeeter, he does know how to be subtle to get what he wants, and he hasn’t missed a target yet when it really matters to him. Skeeter arrives on time, wearing a form fitting Muggle dress that displays decent cleavage for a woman her age and a rather nice arse. She’s got blonde hair piled up with specs perched at the end of her nose. He’s going to enjoy this, he knows, not only because it will be satisfying to have her realize her poisonous words have consequences.
The part he’s playing is enjoyable. It’s one he never has before, having no need to be a victim or behave in such a timid way even when he was seducing his own aunts. He plays up the shyness that used to be real when he was a child, back when he was overwhelmed by so many extroverted relatives who never left him alone and always tried to pull him out of the shadows. Oddly enough, he lost the shyness when they stopped that and just let him stay hidden whenever he wanted. Regardless, that element is a personal touch because he plays it so well, ducking his head, letting his fringe fall into his eyes, pursing his lips to draw her attention to them, tilting his head in a way that shows of his neck, which he’s been told oddly enough is something that turns some of his women on.
Skeeter buys it all, of course, because he really is that good. Hugo doesn’t find it arrogance so much as just being honest. Perhaps there’s a tinge of arrogance, since he really does feel superior to most people he knows. But only a tinge.
There’s such a desire to believe any horrible thing he says that she doesn’t really listen to him at all. Her eyes are shining with pleasure over the thought of his parents neglecting him to favor his outgoing sister, her lips wet from her enjoyment of hearing about orgies happening in the lounge while he was in the next room, her nostrils flare when he brokenly tells her about his parents’ company finding him and doing horrible things to him sexually, her breath coming in ragged pants when he talks about how shameful he finds, and he’s got her in his web completely when he whispers to her about being scared of sex because of everything that happened.
By that time, she’s almost on his lap, since he’s gradually quieted his voice during the lies he’s been spinning. It doesn’t take anything to let his hand drift to her thigh accidentally as he shifts awkwardly in place, wishing he had the ability to blush on cue because it would add the perfect touch to this performance. When she puts her hand on his and pats it while talking about how it isn’t surprising to her that his parents and their heroic friends are nothing but child abusing sex fiends, he leans in towards her, just enough to invade her personal space. She allows it, and he knows he’s got her.
The quick-quotes quill is scratching against parchment the entire time he speaks, and he listens to it scratch scratch scratch as he confesses to her that he’s so ashamed because he enjoys it when his mum’s friends touch him, that he’s scared because no girls his age excite him anymore. As he speaks, he casually shifts their hands so that they’re over his crotch, and he ducks his head so she can’t see his smug smile when her fingers instinctively clench around the bulge there. He isn’t hard yet, but there’s still enough for her to feel, without a doubt.
From there, it happens as he’s planned. She kisses him while squeezing his cock, her lipstick shiny and not smearing much at all as she covers his face with her lips. She’s calling him a sweet boy, breath catching every time she calls him ‘boy’, and he knows that’s part of what’s getting her off. He never really knows who is going to get off on his youth and who’s going to be more resistant because of it. Either way is enjoyable to him, but he now knows that she’s going to be more excited if he plays up the broken boy aspect.
When she slides to her knees and whispers to call her Rita, he grips the shiny pink material of her dress and repeats it. It gets her excited, and she’s soon got her ruby red lips wrapped around his thick cock. She’s a great cock sucker, better than even Aunt Audrey, but not as good as Mum. He fucks up into her mouth, feeling her throat around his length as she swallows around him, and he wonders if this is how she got her start. Sucking off men in power for any story they’d give her, on her knees while they fucked her and covered her in their come then gave her tidbits of gossip as payment instead of a handful of knuts.
As she squeezes his bollocks and licks the head of his cock, he wonders if his mum fucked her back in the day. Or maybe she didn’t, and that’s why Skeeter has such an obsession with her. Hugo pushes her off his cock and stammers out some nonsense about this being wrong and how they can’t do this seeing as she’s supposedly interviewing him for the paper. It isn’t surprising when she smiles and tells him not to worry, to just let her take care of him. He hears the scratching of the quill on parchment and offers her a shy smile before he accepts her hand.
She pulls him out of his chair and leads him to the bed, playing the part of seductive older woman in a way he has to admire. She’s obviously done it before, and he feels his cock twitch slightly as he imagines the possible scenarios of her weaving her own web and trapping young boys or girls in it. It actually makes him more excited to think she’s under the impression that they’re in her web instead of his own, too.
After she’s undressed, she strips him down. Her breasts aren’t saggy in the way a woman her age should be, and he wonders if she’s using some type of magical charm to keep them so perky or if she’s had that Muggle surgery Aunt Ginny that snidely insinuates Aunt Gabrielle might have had. Hugo hasn’t had the opportunity to check for himself, since Aunt Gabrielle lives in Paris and doesn’t visit that often. Besides, she’s a lesbian, and he respects people’s sexual identity especially since he’s not fluid when it comes to gender, either.
Hugo watches as Skeeter climbs onto the bed and starts sucking his cock again. While he does enjoy having a mouth on his cock, he is a bit bored without anything else to do. He’s still playing his part, waiting for the right moment to let the performance go, so he can’t even suggest she straddle his face while she sucks him. Fortunately, she doesn’t suck for much longer before she’s complimenting his size and pushing her wet cunt down onto him. Her fingernails are painted the same ruby red as her lips, and she scratches them down his chest as she rides him. Hugo bucks up into her when one of them grazes his nipple, which makes her smirk and repeat the action.
Finally, he’s had enough. He can only allow someone else control for so long before he has to remind them that they only had it because he allowed it. He moves quickly, not even sliding out of her as he pushes her into the mattress and fucks her hard. He bites at her nipples, pinning her wrists against the blanket and listening to her gasp and moan as he gives her the hard fuck she deserves. She comes with a low cry, her hair falling around her flushed face, and he keeps fucking her as she trembles and whines.
He pulls out of her and crawls up her body, chuckling as he presses her breasts together around his cock. He fucks her that way for a bit, liking the way the head of his cock bumps into her chin then her mouth when she tilts her head in order to lick at him. She still looks confused and possibly uncertain, and it’s a good look on her. When he comes, he aims his cock at her face, watching as spurts of semen hit her spectacles, her nose, and her mouth.
They aren’t done, though, and he tells her that as he gracefully gets off the bed and grabs her quill and parchment. He repeats the quote where he protested and she reassured him it’s still professional to shag despite the interview, and he tucks the parchment away somewhere safe to use as leverage if it’s ever necessary in the future. She’s sharp enough to figure out she’s been played, and there’s an insult that he accepts as a compliment when she compares him to her devious mother. He asks her if she’s bitter because she never got to taste his mum’s cunny or if it’s because she did but only once. She doesn’t answer, but her silence is rewarding enough.
It’s then that he starts playing with her.
He secures her to the bed with a few waves of his wand, legs spread, arms bound above her head, and wet cunt open for him. With a wicked smile, he takes her quick-quotes quill and runs the feather over her damp nipples, slowly moving it back and forth as the hard nubs seem to strain even more. She’s cursing at him, but the words sound affectionate to him, since they’re said in between gasps and moans as he torments her with the quill. Brushing it all over her sweaty body, tracing the lines and angles, finding spots that make her giggle like a schoolgirl. He keeps touching her with the feather until she’s begging, as that’s what he really wants to hear.
Once she’s tugging on the magic and pleading with him to fuck her, he turns the quill around. He activates it, setting the tip against her belly as he settles between her legs. It starts scratching against her skin, getting new ink then scratching more as she curses and begs and asks him to do all sorts of naughty things to her while he’s licking her cunt. He uses his tongue and fingers to bring her over the edge again, lapping at her come and nuzzling her clit.
When he raises his head, he sees a masterpiece of depravity written all over skin. He grins as he strokes his cock a few times, adding his own words to the sinful writing before he slides into her. This time, he takes his time, wanting her to wait, going deep and slow, grinding against her each time he sinks inside. Her lipstick is finally smeared, long-lasting but not for his plans, and he licks at the ink covering her breasts, smearing the words ‘fuck my arse’ across her pale skin.
Hugo finishes with Skeeter a couple of hours later. She’s covered in ink, come, and sweat, looking much more natural this way than she did when she first arrived. He reminds her that journalistic integrity is actually important, as she has a responsibility for informing the public of actual news instead of rehashing old feuds because she’s obsessed with his mum’s cunt, and he leaves her like that, bound to the bed with come dripping off her breasts and coating her thighs.
Rosmerta smiles when he enters the pub, and he nods at her. It’s done, and she gets her reward now for assisting him with his plan. His parents aren’t the only ones who have been hurt by Skeeter’s poisonous quill, after all. Rosmerta picks up a large bottle of Firewhisky and a smaller bottle of wine from behind the bar before she heads upstairs to take care of her temporary guest. Hugo almost wishes he could stay and watch them, but it’s getting late, and he doesn’t want to be fussed with having to sneak back in tonight.
Besides, he wants to write a letter to Mum before dinner.
End
Characters/Pairings: Hugo/Rita Skeeter
Rating: Adult
Summary: Hugo’s reached a point where his tolerance of the freedom of the press has been exceeded.
Word Count: 2500
Warnings: Large age disparity, Hugo’s 17
Series: Takes place during Hugo’s 7th year in Hugo’s Conquests verse.
A/N: I am so glad there are a few of y’all enjoying this series (since I know it's not everyone's cuppa)! I am having such fun writing it, and I’m happy some of y’all like my Hugo! <3 This pairing was suggested by tamlane.
Based on the Taboo Tuesday prompt feather play at hp_het_Taboo.
The article is published in early November. When Hugo reads the title and sees the byline (Hero of the Second Voldemort War a Sex Addict? by Rita Skeeter), he expects it to be another scathing attack against his mum from a woman who seems to be rather obsessed. Instead, he reads a ridiculous claim that his father is a sex addict who has been seen with at least a half dozen women since his divorce with rumors sited as fact. There’s not even an attempt to be subtle at the accusation that his mum is frigid, withheld sex for most of their marriage, and now his poor father is an addict.
It’s such tripe that Hugo considers buying up every copy in Hogsmeade for his classmates to use as paper in the loo. Only the fact that damp newspaper would likely spread ink into their nether regions prevents him from actually doing it. Obviously, it’s more amusing than harmful, and no one is giving him awkward stares the way they did after some of the articles published during the divorce, but he’s reached a point where his tolerance of the freedom of the press has been exceeded.
Rita Skeeter has a grudge that seems to go back to when his mum was barely a teenager, and that’s far too long for her to have to endure petty attacks thinly disguised as journalistic integrity.
It takes time to plan an appropriate form of comeuppance. As he plots, he receives owls from his father, telling him there’s no addiction of any sort and not to read that rubbish published in the Daily Prophet, and he receives owls from his mum, who finds the situation rather humorous considering she’s finally given in and is playing the game with him. Ron’s half-dozen girlfriends over the last eighteen months doesn’t quite compare to shagging one’s own son and nephew, after all.
The first Saturday in December is when Hugo’s plan comes together. He enlists the help of Rosmerta, who is happy to agree after he’s exhausted her with his cock in her arse and a liquor bottle in her cunt at the same time. He’s opened her mind to the possibilities of non-traditional wanking aides, after all, so it’s the least she can do. The ‘private interview’ is easy to arrange. Once Rosmerta mentions his name, she tells him that Skeeter is sniffing around like a bitch in heat, so it’s easy to arrange a meeting in a room at the Three Broomsticks so they can have privacy as he spills family secrets she expects will ruin his parents.
When Hugo arrives, he sets the room for his scene. Unlike Skeeter, he does know how to be subtle to get what he wants, and he hasn’t missed a target yet when it really matters to him. Skeeter arrives on time, wearing a form fitting Muggle dress that displays decent cleavage for a woman her age and a rather nice arse. She’s got blonde hair piled up with specs perched at the end of her nose. He’s going to enjoy this, he knows, not only because it will be satisfying to have her realize her poisonous words have consequences.
The part he’s playing is enjoyable. It’s one he never has before, having no need to be a victim or behave in such a timid way even when he was seducing his own aunts. He plays up the shyness that used to be real when he was a child, back when he was overwhelmed by so many extroverted relatives who never left him alone and always tried to pull him out of the shadows. Oddly enough, he lost the shyness when they stopped that and just let him stay hidden whenever he wanted. Regardless, that element is a personal touch because he plays it so well, ducking his head, letting his fringe fall into his eyes, pursing his lips to draw her attention to them, tilting his head in a way that shows of his neck, which he’s been told oddly enough is something that turns some of his women on.
Skeeter buys it all, of course, because he really is that good. Hugo doesn’t find it arrogance so much as just being honest. Perhaps there’s a tinge of arrogance, since he really does feel superior to most people he knows. But only a tinge.
There’s such a desire to believe any horrible thing he says that she doesn’t really listen to him at all. Her eyes are shining with pleasure over the thought of his parents neglecting him to favor his outgoing sister, her lips wet from her enjoyment of hearing about orgies happening in the lounge while he was in the next room, her nostrils flare when he brokenly tells her about his parents’ company finding him and doing horrible things to him sexually, her breath coming in ragged pants when he talks about how shameful he finds, and he’s got her in his web completely when he whispers to her about being scared of sex because of everything that happened.
By that time, she’s almost on his lap, since he’s gradually quieted his voice during the lies he’s been spinning. It doesn’t take anything to let his hand drift to her thigh accidentally as he shifts awkwardly in place, wishing he had the ability to blush on cue because it would add the perfect touch to this performance. When she puts her hand on his and pats it while talking about how it isn’t surprising to her that his parents and their heroic friends are nothing but child abusing sex fiends, he leans in towards her, just enough to invade her personal space. She allows it, and he knows he’s got her.
The quick-quotes quill is scratching against parchment the entire time he speaks, and he listens to it scratch scratch scratch as he confesses to her that he’s so ashamed because he enjoys it when his mum’s friends touch him, that he’s scared because no girls his age excite him anymore. As he speaks, he casually shifts their hands so that they’re over his crotch, and he ducks his head so she can’t see his smug smile when her fingers instinctively clench around the bulge there. He isn’t hard yet, but there’s still enough for her to feel, without a doubt.
From there, it happens as he’s planned. She kisses him while squeezing his cock, her lipstick shiny and not smearing much at all as she covers his face with her lips. She’s calling him a sweet boy, breath catching every time she calls him ‘boy’, and he knows that’s part of what’s getting her off. He never really knows who is going to get off on his youth and who’s going to be more resistant because of it. Either way is enjoyable to him, but he now knows that she’s going to be more excited if he plays up the broken boy aspect.
When she slides to her knees and whispers to call her Rita, he grips the shiny pink material of her dress and repeats it. It gets her excited, and she’s soon got her ruby red lips wrapped around his thick cock. She’s a great cock sucker, better than even Aunt Audrey, but not as good as Mum. He fucks up into her mouth, feeling her throat around his length as she swallows around him, and he wonders if this is how she got her start. Sucking off men in power for any story they’d give her, on her knees while they fucked her and covered her in their come then gave her tidbits of gossip as payment instead of a handful of knuts.
As she squeezes his bollocks and licks the head of his cock, he wonders if his mum fucked her back in the day. Or maybe she didn’t, and that’s why Skeeter has such an obsession with her. Hugo pushes her off his cock and stammers out some nonsense about this being wrong and how they can’t do this seeing as she’s supposedly interviewing him for the paper. It isn’t surprising when she smiles and tells him not to worry, to just let her take care of him. He hears the scratching of the quill on parchment and offers her a shy smile before he accepts her hand.
She pulls him out of his chair and leads him to the bed, playing the part of seductive older woman in a way he has to admire. She’s obviously done it before, and he feels his cock twitch slightly as he imagines the possible scenarios of her weaving her own web and trapping young boys or girls in it. It actually makes him more excited to think she’s under the impression that they’re in her web instead of his own, too.
After she’s undressed, she strips him down. Her breasts aren’t saggy in the way a woman her age should be, and he wonders if she’s using some type of magical charm to keep them so perky or if she’s had that Muggle surgery Aunt Ginny that snidely insinuates Aunt Gabrielle might have had. Hugo hasn’t had the opportunity to check for himself, since Aunt Gabrielle lives in Paris and doesn’t visit that often. Besides, she’s a lesbian, and he respects people’s sexual identity especially since he’s not fluid when it comes to gender, either.
Hugo watches as Skeeter climbs onto the bed and starts sucking his cock again. While he does enjoy having a mouth on his cock, he is a bit bored without anything else to do. He’s still playing his part, waiting for the right moment to let the performance go, so he can’t even suggest she straddle his face while she sucks him. Fortunately, she doesn’t suck for much longer before she’s complimenting his size and pushing her wet cunt down onto him. Her fingernails are painted the same ruby red as her lips, and she scratches them down his chest as she rides him. Hugo bucks up into her when one of them grazes his nipple, which makes her smirk and repeat the action.
Finally, he’s had enough. He can only allow someone else control for so long before he has to remind them that they only had it because he allowed it. He moves quickly, not even sliding out of her as he pushes her into the mattress and fucks her hard. He bites at her nipples, pinning her wrists against the blanket and listening to her gasp and moan as he gives her the hard fuck she deserves. She comes with a low cry, her hair falling around her flushed face, and he keeps fucking her as she trembles and whines.
He pulls out of her and crawls up her body, chuckling as he presses her breasts together around his cock. He fucks her that way for a bit, liking the way the head of his cock bumps into her chin then her mouth when she tilts her head in order to lick at him. She still looks confused and possibly uncertain, and it’s a good look on her. When he comes, he aims his cock at her face, watching as spurts of semen hit her spectacles, her nose, and her mouth.
They aren’t done, though, and he tells her that as he gracefully gets off the bed and grabs her quill and parchment. He repeats the quote where he protested and she reassured him it’s still professional to shag despite the interview, and he tucks the parchment away somewhere safe to use as leverage if it’s ever necessary in the future. She’s sharp enough to figure out she’s been played, and there’s an insult that he accepts as a compliment when she compares him to her devious mother. He asks her if she’s bitter because she never got to taste his mum’s cunny or if it’s because she did but only once. She doesn’t answer, but her silence is rewarding enough.
It’s then that he starts playing with her.
He secures her to the bed with a few waves of his wand, legs spread, arms bound above her head, and wet cunt open for him. With a wicked smile, he takes her quick-quotes quill and runs the feather over her damp nipples, slowly moving it back and forth as the hard nubs seem to strain even more. She’s cursing at him, but the words sound affectionate to him, since they’re said in between gasps and moans as he torments her with the quill. Brushing it all over her sweaty body, tracing the lines and angles, finding spots that make her giggle like a schoolgirl. He keeps touching her with the feather until she’s begging, as that’s what he really wants to hear.
Once she’s tugging on the magic and pleading with him to fuck her, he turns the quill around. He activates it, setting the tip against her belly as he settles between her legs. It starts scratching against her skin, getting new ink then scratching more as she curses and begs and asks him to do all sorts of naughty things to her while he’s licking her cunt. He uses his tongue and fingers to bring her over the edge again, lapping at her come and nuzzling her clit.
When he raises his head, he sees a masterpiece of depravity written all over skin. He grins as he strokes his cock a few times, adding his own words to the sinful writing before he slides into her. This time, he takes his time, wanting her to wait, going deep and slow, grinding against her each time he sinks inside. Her lipstick is finally smeared, long-lasting but not for his plans, and he licks at the ink covering her breasts, smearing the words ‘fuck my arse’ across her pale skin.
Hugo finishes with Skeeter a couple of hours later. She’s covered in ink, come, and sweat, looking much more natural this way than she did when she first arrived. He reminds her that journalistic integrity is actually important, as she has a responsibility for informing the public of actual news instead of rehashing old feuds because she’s obsessed with his mum’s cunt, and he leaves her like that, bound to the bed with come dripping off her breasts and coating her thighs.
Rosmerta smiles when he enters the pub, and he nods at her. It’s done, and she gets her reward now for assisting him with his plan. His parents aren’t the only ones who have been hurt by Skeeter’s poisonous quill, after all. Rosmerta picks up a large bottle of Firewhisky and a smaller bottle of wine from behind the bar before she heads upstairs to take care of her temporary guest. Hugo almost wishes he could stay and watch them, but it’s getting late, and he doesn’t want to be fussed with having to sneak back in tonight.
Besides, he wants to write a letter to Mum before dinner.
End