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#/ i will catch up soon but for your information !!!
mtchacffinz · 3 days
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what a blunder!
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prompt!!! Arlecchino personally deals with your unwanted marriage proposal in her own unique way.
content!!! fem!reader x arlecchino, SFW, impatient arlecchino, violence mentioned, marriage proposal, possessive arlecchino
note!!! "Farlahr" is a made up character for the sake of this ficlet. The Doctor here is NOT Dottore. something about arlecchino tweaking and losing a few screws is so hot to me so here you go girls this one is for my strap on arlecchino riders 🙏 im so normal
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"He told me that if I consider him as my betrothed, I would be set for life." You smile up at her, albeit nervous. "Huh? Oh— Where are you going?"
Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers. The moon peeks from the shadows, it's serene light softly caressing the harbingers figure— still, quiet, tensed. Her heels clang echoing all throughout the corridor, her gaze that was pinned straight forward seemed to pierce through the thick air surrounding the atmosphere.
Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers, and Arlecchino failed to notice she started to hear her uneven breathing.
Peculiar. Truly peculiar..
"Right this way, Ma'am." Arlecchino set her gaze towards the head butler, greeted with the sight of a tensed figure in return. The head butler winces, stammering on his words. Was she glaring? She doesn't know. That's not important. She's needs to get through the door. "I- I will inform the Master of your arrival—"
"That will not be necessary." Her sultry voice cut through his words. "We have been long collaborators, a reunion shan't wait too long."
Her monochromatic figure heaves a soft breath, looking blankly towards the excessively pretentious door, it's sheer size looming over Arlecchino's figure— the entrance towards an office.
Eloquent and graceful, although her lips were painted with a polite smile, the person before her couldn't tell if the crimson woman was brewing something from within. The Knave was calculative and perceptive, an expert at keeping herself cold despite the scorching flames imbedded within her. The man kept his gaze at the floor, lacking the courage to even contest her gaze.
Those eyes, terrifying crimson hued crosses that could mess with your head tried to dare his optics to even catch a small gaze. Staring into them was ill advised indeed. The butler knew this for his heart was racing, and what added to the cold sweat undeniably trickling in his jaw was that Arlecchino stood unnervingly still— as if contemplating something under deep thought. Before anything could be done, Arlecchino firmly gripped the mansion door's handles in a few momemts, swinging it open with great force.
There had always been an air of nobility in Arlecchino's presence. As soon as she stepped foot into Farlahr's office, the doctor stood up in shock, startled.
"Please, excuse my abrupt visit, Doctor." Arlecchino deliberately spat out the title, a composed smile tugged at her lips. Farlahr's eyes widen at the sight of her monochromatic elegance painting his mansion floors with her presence.
"You're not too busy, I presume? Do let us catch up, I insist— I truly do." It was way beyond the wee hours of the night, the breeze was cold and unforgiving, and the doctor could feel it crawling up his spine. The Harbingers assertive words leave no room for arguments. As if there was an invisible wind from the room, forcing every bit of his movements to bend at her own will.
"I admit that it's quite off fashion to visit at this hour empty handed, Lord Harbinger." The man chuckled in an attempt to disperse the growing tension in the air. He swings his hands— decorated with glimmering stones to mask his nervousness. The woman quickly responded.
"I won't be empty handed for long."
"Pardon, Lord Harbinger?"
Arlecchino doesn't clarify any further, but directs her unwavering gaze to him. Dark, piercing. It was like a warning, a ticking bomb for the doctor to diffuse except there seemed to be no signs of dismissal any time soon.
His crisp smile quickly dropped.
"...I merely jest." Farlahr quickly followed up, as if it was the most amusing joke in the world. Arlecchino doesn't seem to share the same opinion, as her expression stood the same. Whatever The Knave came here for, he doesn't know just yet. And if he fails to catch on, Farlahr just might lose something. His head fell from the deep crevices of his panicked mind falling into one topic he suddenly could bring up as distraction.
With their history of collaborative partnership of 13 years, Arlecchino didn't have a single problem in regards to the business and it's contributions to the House of Hearth. Arlecchino didn't care for his obsessions with women and adulterous activities, the poised lady simply stood her ground due the information the Doctor withheld about the history of medical fallacies and treatments alike.
Arlecchino's rigid gaze quickly looked relaxed, unbothered. Her voice had voice lowered and her arms and legs sit crossed.
"I came here to offer a deal."
"And that is?"
It was no surprise to Arlecchino that Farlahr was a worldly man. Riches to riches, he has re-married at least three times and he's proud of that. Arlecchino didn't bother to comprehend his thought process. She believes that his brain was processed waste ideally converged with multiple nerves. His body reeked of metals, teeth gleaming brightly with silver. She kind of wishes she could rip it all out of his jaw..
"You will retract your marriage proposal." Arlecchino starts, "And I say this, your wealth, status, and people— all safeguarded as per usual."
Farlahr was taken aback by the sudden demand. He doesn't know if her statement stemmed from concern for his safety or a wake up call to his unethical hobbies. The opportunist in him say the opposite, it says that maybe you are some sort of leverage in this world— so valuable that even the 4th Harbinger of then fatui would personally come and abolish his plans of marrying you.
But the curiosity of his consciousness gnaws it's way out of his lips, asking one particular question.
"You disapprove of my wife and I?"
How disgusting. Utterly repulsive. Its almost an offense to your whole existence to be called a wife to someone as repugnant as him. The monochromatic grace managed to suppress her disgust by responding in a more poignant tone.
"Ah, forgive me." Arlecchino very slowly tilts her head, eyes unblinking. She effortlessly stands up from her seat, her coat elegantly swaying with her refined and poised movements, breath light as a feather— a shadow cast on her face.
"But I don't disapprove of your proposal, pig." In a moment, there was a switch in her tone. Her pointed high heels shoes dragged themselves against the expensive velvet carpet, dreaming to at least peirce through the back of a certain crisp, fragile cranium. With every step closer Arlecchino gets, the more Farlahr's heart pounds in his chest, daring to jump off.
She raises a hand and firmly places them on his shoulder.
"...I forbid it."
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Serenity was all that could be described throughout the night. And you, as a person of idle leisure in the evening, appreciated the tranquil breeze that brush past your cheek. A soft sigh escapes your lips, falling into deep thought. What is there to do? With the last 28 hours you were given to decide on an answer, you're left quite bewildered. Tapping your fingernails on the terrace by muscle memory, your train of thought was disturbed when you head familiar foot steps behind you.
You turn around to see a sight of dignified beauty, standing before your sleepless eyes. Arlecchino's presence, despite the abruption, quickly calmed your disgruntled nerves down.
But something was wrong. Before you could ask about the residual crimson stains on her cheek and darkened hands, she speaks in a tone softer than any voice you've heard her.
"If I may ask, my dove, could you marry someone with an absent ring finger?"
Wow. What a random question. Completely uncalled for. Maybe the ungodly hours of the night got to her? Despite the conspiracies flowing through your mind, you try hard to think of an answer.
"Hmm. I should rephrase that. Could you marry a man with no fingers?" Arlecchino ponders out loud, "Despite a marriage contract, you must need a ring to put on his finger, right? Quite a shame, really.."
"No, I don't think so. Wedding rings are to be put on ring fingers, if I recall correctly."
"That's a relief." You raise a brow, completely lost. You gaze at Arlecchino, a subtle triumphant look paints her expression, her fingers play around with her numerous rings that sit comfortably on her fingers. Taking one out, she approaches your figure.
"May I embrace you, my lady?" Suddenly, the Harbingers sultry voice was sullen, sulking. My, what's up with this woman? A moment ago she shows up with (possibly) blood around her person, and now she's asking for sudden physical contact? After just a consonant of the reply 'Yes' was uttered, Arlecchino quickly took you in her arms, embracing you deeply— taking in your presence wholely.
"How I wish I could rid you the scent of that swine." She loosens her grip for a moment, putting a stray hair strand behind your ear. All this feels like a fever dream.. you remember that just mere hours ago, Arlecchino's face looked grim and unpleasant when she received news of your sudden proposal— her reaction left you perplexed. You thought it would be a good idea since Farlahr was a good business partner of hers, why the grim expression?
You pat her back comfortingly. Before you could say anything, Arlecchino quickly lets go of you, standing perfectly straight. Her face once again unreadable— she speaks in a calm and collected manner.
"That fool said that if you'd marry him, you would be set for life." She recounts, almost irritated. Arlecchino's crimson crosses gaze was away from you, but hands traced their way back to your arms, carefully holding them in hers. Her thumbs brush the back of your hands affectionately, with tenderness and care in her voice. Arlecchino's knee made contact with the floor, and her hands delicately handled yours as if they were the most precious thing in the world.
"You must marry me. All he could offer you, I could provide tenfold."
All of the sudden, the wind started to pick up, and the ethereal lady before you never looked so grand. Her monochromatic hair danced with the cool breeze, and her crimson eyes looked from above, transfixed on your figure. Your throat felt like there was too many words you could spit out in one go, and you were terrified that you'd ruin the atmosphere by stammering over your words.
"Marry me so you are mine to gratify. This is a promise I can keep, unlike that farce. Even at your grave, my everlasting flames will be buried with you in the dirt where you lay— in turn that you will never freeze from the cold kiss of death." The Harbinger adds, tenderly placing a peck on your knuckles. Her gaze could contest even the eyes of Archons at this very moment, possessing full confidence that upholds the standards of her capabilities.
Compared to her, what could a limbless man offer you?
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my dumbass just woke up and decided to edit it a bit cus I was writing this at like, 3AM LMAOO, hello (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) its me again, just dipping my toes in the water to see if I could still write 🤔
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dragon-kazansky · 3 days
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Warnings: Sexual themes at the Granville studio. Nothing explicit.
Season one
Chapter Eleven - Ruse to ruse
♡♡♡
Colin had brought you here, so he saw to it that he saw you home, though Benedict was a little reluctant. He kind of wanted to do it himself, but there wasn't time to argue and dawdle.
Anthony and Benedict would see Daphne home, Colin would take you, and Simon would need to go home and prepare himself for his future with Daphne.
Colin was good at riding. He handled the horse with perfection. You were home before your mother was even properly awake. He helped you off the horse, and you thanked him quickly, going around the back of the house knowing the servants would be up already.
Colin rode away before he was seen.
You dodged some maids as you returned to your room and quickly dressed down to make it look like you had been in bed the entire time.
You were lucky to get back when you did. A mere ten or fifteen minutes passed before your maid came into the room to wake you. You stretched and rose from the bed, relying on your acting to fool the poor girl into believing you hadn't been awake since before dawn.
She seems none the wiser as she tells you breakfast will be ready shortly and that your mother was awake.
Once you're up and dressed, you can act naturally. Everything that happens now is just the course of things. Daphne and Simon shall marry, she'll become a duchess, and Violet can set her sights on her next daughter, Eloise.
You enter the dining hall and see your mother already there, starting her breakfast. You join her with a smile.
"Good morning, dear."
"Good morning."
She seems none the wiser as to what you had been doing earlier that morning. For that, you are thankful. You tuck into your breakfast and pretend nothing had happened.
You've barely eaten when the butler comes in and announces you have a guest. You glance up at your mother with confusion. However, she looks thrilled.
"A caller?"
You don't even get to answer before she's up and heading toward the door to see who it was. You stand, too. Your mother returns moments later being followed by Benedict.
You look at him in confusion this time.
"Mr. Bridgerton, how delighted we are for your visit," your mother coos.
"An innocent visit, I assure you," he replies.
Your mother looks at you and tilts her head in his direction.
"What brings you to our door?" You ask, looking at Benedict.
"I thought I'd share the news. Daphne is engaged to the duke. She told mother this morning." He speaks slightly strained. Of course you already knew this information.
"How wonderful!" Your mother cheers.
"Yes. Very. Is she happy?" You ask, playing along.
"I'm sure they both will be." You catch the change of tone in his voice.
Silence settles between you both.
"Don't mind me," your mother says, returning to her seat at the table.
You sigh softly and turn to Benedict. "I'll show you out."
Your mother calls your name and then says, "so soon?"
"I'm sure Mr. Bridgerton was just delivering the good news in person. After all, they are my friends, mother."
You didn't give her time to answer before leading him out of the dining room. Benedict followed you to the door.
"What are you doing here?" You ask.
"I had to make sure you got home alright," he says softly.
"Colin brought me home."
"I know..."
You sigh softly and look up at him. "How is your mother coping?"
"She is pleased Daphne is marrying the duke. However, it would seem that Cressida Cowper may have seen them in the garden that night." He explains.
"Oh dear..."
"I'm sure all will be well, but we must keep our wits about us for now."
"Then why did you come here?"
"I told you. To make sure you got home."
"Do you not trust your brother?" You ask.
"Of course I do," he replies quickly. "I just wanted to see you."
You smile and then chuckle. "You worry too much. You should go home and be there for Daphne. She will need all the support she can get right now."
He sighs softly and nods. Benedict does leave immediately. He just looks at you. You're unable to read the expression on his face as you stare back at him in confusion.
He soon snaps out of his daze and takes his leave. You watch him go.
When you return to the dining room, your mother looks at you. "Why did you show him out so soon?"
"Mother..."
"He could have come with good intentions."
"He just came to tell me of Daphne's news," you say, sitting down once again.
"He may want to court you."
"Mother, I can assure you that my future husband will not be a Bridgerton. That will never happen."
Your mother grumbles. "You never know."
You look down into your tea cup and see your reflection in the hot liquid. "No, mother. I do know."
♡♡♡
Daphne was to be married within the week, so you hear from her when you visit her family the day after the duel.
Violet was all a buzz with the news, truly believing her daughter was marrying for love, but everything you looked to the eldest Bridgerton daughter, you could only see the anxiety on her face.
Poor Violet would never know what really happened.
Eloise excused herself from all things wedding related, so you accompanied where you could. Daphne was grateful to have a hand to hold when her emotions became too much sometimes.
When she was fitted for her wedding dress, you held her hand. When her mother went through gloves and veils, you were stood there beside her, your arm hooked with hers. When they discussed nightdresses, you stood beside her and kept her company.
Daphne was glad you were there. She surely would have lost her patience had you not been.
When you returned to their home later that day only to find out from Anthony, the special license had been denied, Daphne reached for your hand again.
The conversation was cut short when Violet entered the room to greet Lady Danbury.
"Now, this is far too grim a mood for the celebration I was counting on," Lady Danbury said, looking at everyone. "What on earth is the matter?"
"Anthony?" Violet looks at her son.
"We have been denied our request for a special license," he tells them.
"What?"
"The archbishop did not see a need." The duke added.
"It is not the archbishop," Lady Danbury says. "It is the queen. Perhaps she has taken your rejection of her nephew to heart, or perhaps she is simply bored. Either way, it does not bode well for your daughter's social future, nor any of the Bridgertons for that matter."
You feel Daphne squeeze your hand.
"Surely we must be able to do something?" Violet asks.
"Give her what she wants. Attention. Appear before her yourselves and make a personal appeal. But she will not respond to begging, and she can sniff out even the faintest whiff of insincerity, so do not lay it on thick. Tell her you are in love, plain and simple and true."
Daphne and Simon look at each other. Daphne looks like she could cry.
"You can do that, can you not?" Lady Danbury asks them.
Daphne nods her head. Then Simon gives one firm nod also.
"Good. Now, where is the dinner I was promised?"
Violet chuckles and leads the way.
You let go of Daphne's hand and follow her mother. Anthony accompanies you, and the happy couple follow.
♡♡♡
Benedict returns to the studio of Mr. Granville. He has chosen to sit out dinner with his family, not knowing you were there.
Henry answers the door.
"Bridgerton! I am so glad you came."
"I dare not miss it," Benedict answered.
"Please, come in."
The two of them head inside.
"Make yourself at home. I would show you around, but host duty calls." Henry smiles and walks on ahead.
The studio is much more lively tonight. There are people everywhere. Benedict walks down the hall a little bit and peers into one of the open doorways. The room is full of pretty women dressed in as little possible dancing around. He keeps on walking and peers into another room. There are people sketching in this one.
"What are you doing here?"
Benedict turns around to find a woman looking at him.
"Apologies. Have we met?" He asks.
"We need not to have met," she says. "You are a Bridgerton, yes?"
Benedict, of course, would not recognise the seamstress.
"I see my reputation precedes me."
"Not exactly a virtue."
"Anything that gets me your attention is a good thing, I rather think."
"You should go, home to your brother, perhaps."
Benedict scoffs. "But I'm receiving far too warm a welcome here."
They later find themselves on the stairs enjoying each other. His lips on her neck and collarbone as his large, warm hands explore every curve of her body.
She takes his hand and leads him down the stairs and through the crowds. He hurries forward to find them a room, opening a door only to find Henry Granville and another gentleman enjoying each other up against the wall.
Henry's eyes land on Benedict as he stands there, watching them. Slowly, Benedict steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.
"Bridgerton," Genevieve whispers.
She's sat with a young woman nearby. She uses her finger to gesture him over. He walks over immediately, sitting between them and kissing the young lady. He then turns and kisses Genevieve, too.
He enjoys his evening with the pair of them.
It was safe to say, this man had no intention of settling down any time soon.
♡♡♡
The dinner passes by rather quietly. There is a slight tension between Simon and Daphne. Violet and Lady Danbury carry most of the conversation, and you join in when possible.
The only other Bridgerton's at the table were Anthony and Eloise, though the latter made it clear she would rather be anywhere else.
You find yourself a little disappointed at the lack of Benedict. Anthony just told you his brother had gone out. He knew not where. You didn't bother digging if he didn't know.
"What about you? Are there any prospects this season for you?" Lady Danbury asks, gesturing to you with her wine glass.
You look uo and find yourself a little stunned at the question. "Oh, um. I had some callers. Though not many. Very few came back a second time." You look down at your dinner.
"Worry not. You're still young. Your time to shine will come," she winks at you.
Violet looks at Anthony, who furrows his brow at her. When she nods her head at you, he shakes his head with wide eyes. Violet gives him a firmer look.
You look up, and she quickly smiles at you.
Anthony sighs and turns his head toward you. He keeps his voice low. "Whatever my mother says, do not buy into it."
"Hm?" You look at him with confusion.
"Anthony," Violet calls. Both of you look up at her. "Why not keep her company tomorrow?"
"Mother..."
"It would surely make her happy." Violet smiles brightly.
"Lady Bridgerton, there is no need," you try and steer her away from setting her up with one of her sons.
"I'm sure he won't mind."
"You're busy, no?" You ask quickly, turning to the young Viscount. "You mentioned some ledgers or something."
Anthony nods quickly. "Yes. Exactly. Those ledgers."
Violet sinks in her seat a little. Disappointed in her son. She can't help thinking you'd make a wonderful daughter-in-law. You would suit the Bridgerton name quite well, she is certain.
When dinner is over, Simon is very quick to leave. He speaks very little to Daphne as he exits the house.
Anthony sees you out.
"Shame Benedict wasn't present," you say absentmindedly.
"You seem rather close to my brother."
"We are friends. Fret not." You smile at him.
"I have no idea where he wanders off to so late at night. Nor do I care to ask."
"What you men do in your free time is your own business," you say.
"What could you possibly know what men get up to?" He asks, looking at you.
You just give him a sly smile, one Anthony simultaneously hates and loves. You're a cheeky one.
"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton."
"Goodnight."
He waits until you're in the carriage and then heads back inside his house. He walks starlight past his mother, who is gearing up to talk him into courting you, he is sure.
Violet watches him disappear upstairs.
♡♡♡
The next day, Daphne and Simon appear before the queen. You know not what is said in that room, but you are to gather later that Simon Basset made the most romantic speech known to man.
He declared his love Daphne in front of everyone in that room.
The queen gave them her blessing.
It worked.
♡♡♡
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leafofkudzu · 12 hours
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Slightly delayed post compared to usual, but hi hello and happy Spring, everyone! I hope the past month has treated you well, because the first Saturday of a new month is coming up real fast, meaning it's time for another art party hosted by my guild, [VS] Verdant Shield!
For those who aren’t familiar with art parties, they’re a concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all types to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your favorite character/look together, head to the location, find someone that catches your eye, and create! Afterwards, everyone posts their creations in a shared tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! Tl;dr: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!
Time and /squadjoin information is under the cut, but will also be posted again via reblogs as the squads go up on the day of the party!
Location Information:
While scouting out more Ascalon-aligned locations to even out the spread, I remembered this little corner of Fields of Ruin. It houses a grave of one of the characters from the Ghosts of Ascalon novel - and for trivia purposes, everyone who's done Icebrood Saga has met another character from that novel: Ember Doomforge! But this isn't about Ember, it's about Killeen, and her lovely little resting place protected from the Brand. It's very easily accessible just by scooting up the marked path from Tenaebron Waypoint, which is in itself up in the Northwest corner of Fields of Ruin!
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Time & Squad Details:
As we always do, we’ll be having two parties - one on EU servers and one on NA ones - with an hour break in between. People tend to arrive early and/or jump between accounts as soon as the break comes up, so don’t be surprised to see tags and announcements going up ahead of schedule!
The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Summer Time (aka 3pm Eastern Daylight Time or 5 hours before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Ashelin Falstaff for an invite.
The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Daylight Time (aka 1am Central European Summer Time or an hour before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting this one on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Beldahvia for an invite.
Closing Words:
My apologies yet again for a) being delayed in posting this, but also b) posting this in the dead of (NA) night - I've been a bit sick the past week and lost track of time, but we're here now! I do feel like a broke record every time I say this, but thank you to everyone who turns out to these events - you guys are what make everything so memorable and fun! Have a good rest of your week, and I hope to see you all there on Saturday! ♥
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Training Part 2
Prompt: Enemies to Lovers type. You and Gibbs never got along, and luckily you never really had to work with each other…until now.
Part 1
It was entirely too early in the morning when you walked through the NCIS squad room with Fornell in front of you.
"Woah. Rough night Agent L/N?" DiNozzo jabbed, instantly pressing all the wrong buttons. You decided to bite your tongue this time and ignore him before seeing an opportunity to get back at him. As he handed some papers to McGee, you swiftly stole his seat and leaned back in it exaggeratively, while sipping on your fresh cup of coffee.
"Ha ha Agent L/N. Now get out of my seat."
"Make me Agent DiNozzo." You stared him down as his colleagues and Fornell watched, wondering what was going to happen next. He chuckled to himself and turned around as Gibbs walked in.
"Gibbs. Tell her to get out of my seat," he practically whined, making you snicker.
"Daddy Gibbs isn't going to help you DiNozzo," you ridiculed, catching the eye of said Agent as he took a seat at his desk. Choosing to give up, DiNozzo went to sit on the edge of Agent Bishop's desk. She didn't look too thrilled about it but didn't say anything.
"So you two interrogated Ramos and got a name, right?" Fornell asked, bringing the conversation to work.
"He's not talking. As soon as we brought up our Petty Officer, he closed up tighter than a clam," McGee answered.
"Let me at him. I'll get him talking," you offered, causing DiNozzo to snort.
"Well if we need you to shoot him, you'll be the first to know," he quipped.
You were about to snap on him but Gibbs saved his ass again by inturrupting.
"Fine. Agent L/N, you're with me. Tobias, Abby will fill you in on evidence findings we collected from the crime scene."
You left DiNozzo's chair and waited as Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge from the desk drawer.
"What about us, boss?" DiNozzo bellyached.
"You keep doing what you were doing DiNozzo. We'll be back."
As you passed the tall Agent, you made sure to give him a small shoulder check, silently laughing to yourself as he made a face. Maybe working with NCIS wasn't so bad. It was definitely entertaining.
- - - -
The drive to the bar you knew Ramos to frequent was quiet as neither one of you had anything to say. You turned the radio on to a pop station but it was shut off by Gibbs, making you huff and send him a glare.
Both you and Gibbs walked into the musty smelling bar and you immediately spotted Ramos sitting at a booth, back to you, drinking a pint of beer.
"What is your plan?" Gibbs asked, stopping you.
"Too do the job that your agents failed to do."
He sighed in annoyance as you led the way, sliding in to take a seat right next to Ramos as Gibbs sat across from him. Before he had a chance to leave, you pulled out your badge and showed him discreetly.
"Hey Ramos. I'm with the FBI and I believe you already know Agent Gibbs."
"I don't know what you plan on asking me that you haven't already. I don't know anything, remember?" he spoke confidently while taking a sip of his drink.
You looked over at Gibbs who just sat there, stoic expression on his face. Scooting in closer to Ramos, you leaned in by his ear as he visibly became uncomfortable.
"Oh I haven't interrogated you yet Ramos. See, Gibbs and his lackeys do it all by the book. Bring you in, sit you down in a room and ask a bunch of questions, then let you go. I prefer the simpler way. You come to this bar every Friday around 5pm, after working at the gas station. You play in their little pool tournament every month, and even have your picture posted up on the wall as champion. No, I'm not going to interrogate you. I'm gonna ask one question and if you cant answer said question, I'm gonna let everyone in this bar know that you're an official informant for the FBI. I could probably bet that there are a few questionable individuals here that would hate to hear that information, don't you think?"
A couple second went by as you waited for him to break. He licked his lips nervously, confidence now completely gone and his eyes looked to Gibbs who just shrugged.
"She doesn't work for me. I can't tell her what to do."
Another few seconds went by and you moved to stand up, but Ramos' hand shot out to stop you.
"Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"
You smirked and gave Agent Gibbs an arrogant wink.
"Tell me everything you know about the death of Petty Officer Killbourne. And please, the more details the better."
- - - -
Once you left the bar and got into the car, Gibbs laid into you.
"That's not the way you should've handled it in there."
"Oh yeah? Because your way was getting us soo far."
"We don't threaten people for answers Agent L/N. You can't be so negligent."
If he thought that was being negligent, he was delusional. You didn't do anything wrong and you actually got a lead on your case, something Gibbs couldn't say the same for himself.
"Negligent?! First of all Gibbs, it wasn't a threat. Second of all, my "negligence" got us a very important lead that will now help us continue our investigation and bring down this asshole. You might not like the way I do things but you're just gonna have to suck it up because I'm here until this is done."
He didn't reply back, but just started the car and drove back to the Navy Yard, you practically jumping out of the car once he parked. In the squad room, you didn't bother waiting for him before debriefing the team on your findings and talking with Fornell about arranging a sting operation. The rest of the day, you stayed as far from the silver haired agent as you could, only giving him one worded answers, if any, when he asked you a question.
He seemed to have the same mindset, acting as if you weren't there, never looking you in the eye, just in your direction. The entire team, including Fornell were uneasy but you weren't backing down.
It wasn't until you found out that Gibbs had his team follow a lead without looping you in that you lost it. The next time you saw him, he was getting into the elevator and you made damn sure to get there before it closed.
He visibly made a face of annoyance once you joined him and the doors shut behind you.
"Why wasn't I or Fornell informed about your team finding another lead?"
"I told Fornell," he answered presumptuously, not looking at you.
"Yeah, after you had McGee and Torres meet with our suspects dealers. Listen, if this is some pissing match to you-
He leaned over, flicking the emergency stop switch, causing the elevator to abruptly stop and closed in on you.
"This is about a dead Marine, Agent L/N. I'm not here to impress anyone, especially the FBI. If you want in on our investigation and leads, than start acting like a Federal Agent and less like an immature probie."
As he had you cornered, you finally saw the look that everyone talked about. The stare that could get even the hardest of criminals spilling the beans. But in that moment, you weren't scared. No, you were turned on.
You glanced away from his burning blue eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.
"And stop doing that," he warned.
"Doing what?"
He took a step closer, successfully trapping you against the wall and leaned in to growl in your ear.
"You know what you're doing Agent. I could feel how needy you were for me in the training room just like how I can feel it now. Do you do this with every agency you work with?"
Your breath got caught in your throat at his words and couldn't help but egg it on. You looked up at him as you let your fingers trail along his beltline, dangerously close to where you really wanted to touch.
"No, just you, funny enough," you whispered.
He reached up and gently grabbed your chin, brushing his thumb across your slightly open bottom lip. Your heart was racing as the tension continued to build.
"This is completely unprofessional," he stated, making you smirk.
"Than do something about it, Agent Gibbs."
He leaned in closer as if to kiss you but stopped and dropped his hand, backing off and flipping the emergency switch back on. You stood up straighter and took a breath, trying not to look like you weren't about to just get fucked in the elevator as Gibbs shifted his stance.
It did nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his pants and you smiled to yourself. Once the elevator doors opened to the Lab floor, you watched as he made a hard left turn for the bathroom as you continued on to Abby.
"Hey Gibbs- Oh, you're not Gibbs," she said, surprised.
"No, but he's right behind me. A little too much coffee I think," you hinted, making her smile.
"Yeah, that makes sense. Well, until he joins us, I'll just go over the new information I gathered about the murder weapon."
You listened to Abby talk and Gibbs joined a few minutes later, standing a bit closer to you than usual.
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sportswriters · 3 days
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nope, no favorites around here - j. drury
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pairing: jack drury x female!reader | f, slight a | co-workers to lovers | wc: 716 | warnings: mentions of jack fighting on the ice
welcome post!
y/n’s part of the medical team of the carolina hurricanes. she has a great relationship with the players since it's her job to do check-ups before and after the games.
one fine day, she almost collapses while watching jack getting into a fight with the opponent. the crowd is loud, the guys on the bench are shocked and impressed at the same time. jack dropping the gloves mid game? that's rare. she hates it.
“i don't care if you won, i don't care if it hypes up the crowd, i don't care if it's normal in this sport. are you freaking dumb?”
she's distracted until she notices jack watching her with a smug smile on his face, not even slightly offended by her rant. y/n freezes.
“sorry, shouldn't have gone that far.”
“it's alright, it's a valid worry to have… as someone from the medical team.” jack absolutely knows there's more to it, but he's having fun. she's adorable.
“of course.” she nods. “medical concerns only.”
at home, she starts overthinking about her relationship with jack, wondering if people might be seeing too much. i'm kind and attentive to everyone, right? oh, no, what if they think jack's my favorite? that's awful!
the next day, she goes to work completely self-conscious of her own actions. she greets everyone trying not to be suspicious as she almost sprints to her office. she takes care of the paperwork from the previous day and take notes of what the boss left for her. when practice time arrives, the players come around to do a quick check-up before going to the ice. she has other doctors with her, but somewhere inside she knows jack is going to her cubicle.
he does. jack walks peacefully to his favorite doctor assistant — knowing that there are a few others available —, but what catches him out of guard is how professional she’s acting. well, of course she always does her job correctly, but never this cold, this far — far from him. y/n does every step of the check-up carefully, trusting she’s great at hiding her thoughts from her expressions. they seem to be eating her up inside, that’s why she looks so focused on not messing it up.
“you alright? you look restless,” jack asks, genuinely concerned.
“all great, just got a lot on my plate today,” she replies, eyes on the clipboard with his informations. “good practice, jack. don’t come back here anytime soon.”
y/n turns her back at him to hide her frown, regretting her words. she just needs him to leave so she can breathe properly.
“thought i was your favorite patient.” he tries to lighten the mood. he really doesn’t want it to end that fast, but regrets it a second after, because when their eyes meet, she’s terrified.
“what? nope, no favorites around here. i treat every player equally. have you heard something about it?”
“hey, don’t worry, i was kidding.” jack watches her posture relax. “i promise to do my best only to come here to see you, is that okay?”
y/n freezes. what the hell is going on, right now?
“look, i like talking to you, alright? i’m not a fan of pain and bandages as well, i just don’t mind coming here when i know i’ll be seeing your pretty face.” jack decides to keep talking, afraid you’ll make any assumptions. “and i don’t want you to overthink that i’m giving mixed signs. so, y/n, i’d really like to take you on a date if you allow me.”
“yes. wait.” she covers her mouth then her face in embarrassment. jack softens, his smile grows bigger.
he waits patiently for her. in fact, he’d love to cup her cheeks on his own hands, but that’s hopefully for another day.
“i mean, yeah, it would be nice to go out with you,” she answers, holding a smile as best as she can. “but now i think you should go. wouldn’t wanna mess the queue and get me fired, right?”
he chuckles. there she is, the y/n that got him infatuated.
“of course. see you later, then?”
“don’t even dare getting a scratch on purpose, you hear me?”
“even though you’re adorable when you’re worried?”
“get out of my face right now!”
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yizmiu · 10 hours
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SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung
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013. jittleyang | smau + written (1007 wrds)
IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.
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Heeseung was so desperately hoping that Y/n would show up anytime soon because currently he has Kim Nali all up in his business. He doesn’t mind the girl, but what he expected was a simple ‘Hi, how are you?’ not her to hang around him all night. She even left her friend, which apparently was her first time at Kappa Chi.
“Where’s your friend? Sanghee, was it?” Heeseung asked, interrupting the girl. “Oh—Sanghee, she doesn’t mess around, I wouldn't go for her!” Nali nervously giggles. Heeseung looked at the girl weirdly, What the fuck is she on about…He thought.
“I don’t want to sleep with your friend, you left her alone, you should go be a good friend and find her.” Heeseung scoffed. “Oh—sorry! She’s okay though, she is very outgoing and likes to meet new people—see! she’s talking to someone!” Nali pointed in a direction, Heeseung turning his head to look. Sanghee and Hyunjae were talking to each other.
Heeseung looked down at his phone, constantly checking the time and constantly checking for a text. It was already 11 and Y/n wasn’t there, neither were her friends so they were probably still getting ready.
“Yo, do you know when Soobin is getting here?” Heeseung asked Beomgyu who was walking by. “He texted me saying they’ll be late, you waiting on Y/n?” He asked, taking a sip from his cup.
“Yeah, figured she would’ve texted me about being late.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Soob said the girls were napping together so they’re just waiting on them.” Beomgyu informed Heeseung, turning his attention to Nali and nodding at her.
“Hi, Nali.” Beomgyu said, the girl waved back. It was awkward. “Your friend and Hyunjae are really hitting it off.” Beomgyu laughs. “Save her.” He jokes before running off.
“How’s medical school?” Heeseung decides to ask, the awkward tension between the two was killing him. “It’s okay, the stress is getting to me so it could be better…” She sighed. “That’s the cost of wanting to be a doctor.” Heeseung jokes. “You’re smart, you’ll overcome the stress.” He assures the girl.
Nali’s eyes twinkle when she’s speaking to Heeseung, literally they do. She was so focused on the boy's eyes that she completely missed what he was saying.
“Nali? Are you listening?” Heeseung asked, waving his hand in front of the girl's face to get her attention. “Y/n and I are gonna go and get more ice. It was nice catching up with you.” Nali didn’t even notice the girl that stood beside Heeseung, Y/n who was in her eyes awfully close to the boy.
They were even matching.
“Hi, Nali.” Y/n stuck her hand out to the girl. “Hi.” Nali shook her hand. “You’re so pretty, I’ve seen you on twitter.” Y/n complimented the girl. “Thank you.” Nali sheepishly giggles.
“Of course.” Y/n nods her head.
“She seemed a little awkward…” Y/n points out as she got into the passenger seat of Heeseungs car. “That’s just Nali, she’s nice but recently she’s been crossing the line.” Heeseung complained. “What do you mean by that?” Y/n buckled her seatbelt.
“She's jealous about me and you, she asked about what we were and told me I could be ‘real with her’.” Heeseung did air quotes. “I told her that if we were anything it wouldn’t be her business. And the way she responds to the primrose tweets—she doesn’t even go to primrose?!” Heeseung scoffed.
“Oh, yeah I noticed that. She was in my replies. I thought it was kind of odd because I’ve never seen her before. It was like she was in denial.” Y/n sighs.
“She’s been trying to get back into my life, which I wouldn’t really mind, I would love to become actual friends with her but she seems to want something more.”
“She is a girl with real feelings, Heeseung. Remember that.” Y/n defends the girl. “I’d feel the same way, if I got that type of attention just to keep things casual I’d probably go batshit crazy and become obsessed too.”
“Yeah, but I told her that I’m only messing around and she understood, she was fine with it at first so I don’t know why she’s acting like this.”
“Because she’s human.” Y/n laughs, “She definitely caught feelings later on while spending time with you. I don’t blame her.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a charming guy, it’s hard to not want you.”
Is this girl drunk?
“Y/n, are you tipsy or something?” Heeseung quickly glances away from the road to look at the girl, “Do you hear what you are saying right now?”
“No, I’m not tipsy, are you crazy? I don’t even like to drink like that.”
“Are you saying you want me?” Heeseung gets straight to the point. “I’m saying you’re charming, you have this type of personality that makes someone want to be around you all the time.”
“Oh.” Heeseung falls silent. “Do you want me to want you?” Y/n teases him.
“No, but I wouldn’t hate a cool girl like you wanting me.” Heeseung says confidently. “Ah, okay. I see how it is.” Y/n laughs.
“For real though, would you get with me if we weren’t friends?” Heeseung asked out of curiosity. “Real question is, would you?” Y/n looks at the boy in disbelief, “You’re the one who doesn’t like to settle down.” She laughs.
“Okay, but you didn’t answer my question.” Heeseung was trying to get something out of Y/n, but he doesn’t know what.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind. You kind of already act like my boyfriend. You do everything for me, you ask to match with me, and all your friends tell me you blow them off to hangout with me.” Y/n laughs, “But I just figured it’s because you like to be around me, if I wasn’t your friend but instead a fling you would treat me differently.”
“I guess so…” Heeseung fell silent once again.
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sillyromance · 2 days
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I feel you heart pounding heavily against your ribs as you lie in my arms, looking me right in the eyes. My stomach rumbles beside you, politely announcing of its emptiness, but don't get tricked. It's almost painful, evil sensation which clenched my insides firmly like vice, turning them inside out while they are struggling with hunger. However, I just smile. You're here not to satisfy me, but yourself. You're small, and sad, and scared. That's OK. There is no shame in that...
I bring you up closer to my face - your skin gets pale as instinctive fear kicks in your veins. I don't hurry; your tiny palms run over my cheeks and lips; I force back the wish to taste your adorable little fingers - they have such a good smell... I ask if you still want me to send you there. After a moment, you nod, still worried but sure about your decision. I smile gently and rub your head in attempt to comfort you, although I know it's not enough. I'm a switch after all; no need to tell me how hard it is to go through this for the first time.
Finally, I open my mouth wide and lift you up to put your feet right on my awaiting tongue. The flavour is... Beautiful; I can't help but exhale with pleasure savouring your skinny, cool ankles. Meanwhile, you're trembling. God, I feel so pity for you! My mind is spinning of misunderstanding, trying to process this controversial information of joy and grief combined together. Regardless, it doesn't take long for me to focus. I lock my attentive gaze on your figure; icy sweat covers your hot, pulsing neck, you're staring down at me with mix of doubt and terror. However, you don't ask me to stop. I play with your legs a little bit more, giving you a chance to get used to the situation, then go for the next level, pushing you in just slightly and making you knees disappear in my maw. You gasp as my teeth accidentally touch your vulnerable skin; I rapidly part them to ease the tension. Your toes wiggle in my pharynx, I have to grant you a pleading look to say it disturbs me, so you hold still. I feel bad for making barriers everywhere for you; I'm aware of horror growing in your chest with every passing moment, but it will be better for both of us if you don't squirm. I promise, I won't hurt you. It'll be over soon.
Well, the point of no return is near. I push you just a bit deeper, like this... Yeah. Now I can catch your limbs with my throat muscles. My grip weakens; I swallow. You faintly shriek. I fondle your back, relaxing your body which has suddenly become hard and solid like a rock, being paralysed with shock. I wait; after some seconds your powerless hand pat on my upper lip, permitting me to continue. Oh, you can't imagine how difficult it is to breathe in this position, to hold my instincts sleeping while even so miserable part of you has been already embraced by my throat... No. Don't think about it. It's fine. I swallow once more, your hips and belly entering my esophagus. My neck pleasantly stretches; my mouth shamelessly waters as I get more of your spicy taste, invisible molecules bursting soundlessly on the surface of my craving tongue. You sense this and shiver, your poor clothes getting instantly soaked in my sticky saliva. But I won't make you uncomfortable for long; glancing at your pretty muzzle one last time, I title my head back and let you simply slide inside, contracting my throat again, tracing you slowly passing every centimetre of it: down, down, down...
At last, I can gift my chest with fresh air. You slipped inside so smoothly that it startles me...
My waist is heavy; cute little lumps are walking around underneath my clothes. You're in my stomach now.
The organ whines with pleasure as abundant meal comes in. You are moving around, trying to find a suitable position in the limited space. I sigh, forgetting about the pangs of starvation at last - the fact I haven't eaten since morning to do this to you is nothing comparing to the heavenly sensation of you being inside my core. Now I'm shaking too. It's impossible to stay straight; I lie down cautiously, putting my hands on the expanded middle, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
You. Are. In. There.
I devoured an alive person. It's so good that it hurts...
You are still nervous; I murmur kind, calming words and caress you within my full belly gurgling gladly at your presence. It's safe within me. I won't digest you. Just look around and see that there is no acid to burn you. You won't get suffocated 'cause you're breathing with me. I won't jostle you with harsh movements. I won't laugh at your helplessness. I'm here to hold you, to listen to your cries, to fight your demons with you side by side.
It's so good that you hear me and settle in. Your warm weight feels unreal and... Perfect. I don't let my arms go away from my abdomen, making them cover the bulge you have created as if I have committed a crime which I should hide now.
You don't need to feel anxious anymore. I have you.
I love you.
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marypaol · 3 days
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Hogwarts Express [H.P]
Harry Potter x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is right by Harry’s side providing comfort when the Dementor pays a visit. (Based on book)
Warnings: Dementor of course, mention of never being happy again, mention of murder and death, twitching? I think that’s it let me know if there’s any others!
Author’s Note: This is my first ever Harry story, he’s my favorite character in the series and I’m so glad I’m writing for him! Also, I know the poll results said 6th Year, but 3rd was a very close second and it’s fresh in my mind because I’m currently reading the book. Sorry!
Reader is nicknamed “Flower” sometimes so no use of Y/N
Masterlist
Requests closed until further notice
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“I need to talk to you guys. Alone.” Harry muttered to his three friends, engine of the Hogwarts Express rumbling beneath them.
Ron looked eager to know, and turning to his red-headed sister, ordered “Go away Ginny.” as a way to politely ask her to leave. The sister replied with an eye roll and walked away.
“Let’s find an empty compartment.” Hermione suggested, stroking the hair ball of a cat in her arms as they soon made their way down the corridor. They didn’t seem to be having any luck with finding any one that wasn’t full except for one at the end of the train.
A man was sleeping by the window, soft snores escaping him. He was wearing torn up robes, grey streaks in his hair despite him looking youngish.
“Who do you think he is?” Ron asked.
“Professor R. J. Lupin.” The girl replied, reading his suitcase that was pealing, showing its age.
“How’d you know that?” Ron asked, searching her face with confusion written all over his. She pointed to the case, all three of them taking a look as they sat down.
“Wonder what he teaches.” Ron said, already looking down the corridor for any sign of the women walking around with snacks.
Hermonie rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“Well he looks like he’s in rough shape; one hex would take him out for sure.” Ron said, adjusting Scrabbers in his robe pocket when his tail peeked out. “Anyway, what is it you wanted to tell us?” He said, turning to Harry.
The rest of them did the same, all paying attention to what the boy had to say.
Harry then explained what he overhead Mr. And Mrs. Weasley talking about, as well as what Mr. Weasley made him promise.
The girl’s eyebrows shot up, hand covering her mouth, mimicking Hermione’s reaction. Ron’s mouth was open.
“He escaped to come after you?” Hermiome said in disbelief from beside Ron. The girl seated next to Harry was still trying to register the information.
“Harry you have to be really careful.” The girl said, just about the same time as Hermione added, “Now don’t chase after trouble, Harry.”
Harry seemed slightly annoyed. “I don’t find trouble, Hermione. Trouble usually finds me.”
Ron scoffed at the two girls worries. “Plus, why would he go off and chase someone who wants to kill him?”
“True, but we have to be cautious.” Hermione advised.
“Who knows how he escaped.” Ron said, looking uncomfortable all of the sudden. “No one’s done it before, and he was under high security too.”
“But they will catch him, won’t they?” The girl said, trying to look at Ron and Hermione in assurance. “I mean, they’ve got Muggles looking for him-”
“What’s that noise?” Ron said, head swerving around as he tried to find the purpose. All of them did the same, the whistling noise getting irritating.
“Coming from your trunk, Harry.” Ron said, red head now dug in the luggage rack, hands snapping open the trunk as he brought out the reason for the noise.
“Oh! Is that a Sneakoscope?” The girl said, leaning forward so she could get a better look a the item.
“A very cheap one, mind you; went crazy when I attached it to my owl’s leg.” He said, shaking his head.
“Put it away,” Harry advises, eyes nervously glancing at the sleeping Professor. “It’ll wake him.”
Ron stuffed it in an old sock he found in Harry’s trunk which stopped the noise and snapped the trunk shut once he put it back.
“We got it in Hogsmeade.” Ron explained as he sat down. “The shop was full of all sorts of things. Fred and George told me about-”
“What’s it like there?” Hermione interrupted. “I heard it’s a place in Britain that doesn’t have any Muggles-”
“Sure it is,” Ron said hurriedly, being the one interrupting this time. “But that’s not why I want to go. I wanna go to Honeydukes!”
“What’s that?” The girl asked in wonder, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“It’s a shop that sells just sweets.” Ron gladly answered, sinking into his chair with a dreamlike expression on his face. “Like Pepper Imps that make you smoke at the mouth, or large sherbet balls that make you float a few inches off the ground when you suck on them.” Ron ended his sentence with a demonstration of the size of the sherbets, his hands making a giant circle to mimic their size.
“Oh I’m sure they’re much bigger than that.” The girl informed, holding up her own hands and trying to figure out how to make a bigger circle than Ron’s, just to get him riled up.
“No, mom told me they were like this.” He said, doing the same thing with his hands again.
“Yeah right! And I’m Volde-”
The sarcastic remark was interrupted when Hermione looked over at Harry curiously.
“Wouldn’t Hogsmeade be a fun place to walk around, Harry?” She asked.
Harry rolled his eyes, his arms were crossed and a small annoyed pout was on his lips. The girl couldn’t help but admire him despite his irritation, his green eyes twitching with annoyance.
“I’d like to know. Reckon you’d tell me all about it when you get back?”
The girl snapped out of it. “Why, can’t you come?”
Harry shook his head, untidy hair waving in the process. “No, Uncle Vernon didn’t sign my slip, and Fudge didn’t either.”
The girl slumped in her chair a little, bumped out being an understatement.
Ron looked mortified. “You can’t come? McGonagall or someone will grant you permission-”
Harry laughed disbelievingly, knowing all too well that the Professor mentioned was known to be quite strict.
“Or Fred and George will do something about it, one quick ask and they’ll sneak you right in.”
“Ron, no! Harry can’t be running around risking trouble when Black is wandering about!”
“But he’ll be with us, no one’s gonna-”
“Oh don’t speak rubbish, Ron. Black won’t hold back on attacking Harry just because we’re with him, he’s committed a murder in front of dozens of people.” The girl jumped in.
They’ve settled in a nice little stage of normal discussion while they enjoyed their snacks one the women came (apparently Ron avoided death because he claimed he was dying of starvation) and they ate contently until a certain Slytherin decided to show up to the door with his minions that too far behind him.
“Malfoy.” Harry scolded.
“Pottah.” Draco replied right back, scanning him with irritation in his eyes before turning to Ron. The girl nibbled on her lip on habit, knowing how short Ron’s temper was when Malfoy mentioned his family in any way.
“Heard your father finally got some hands on some gold, Weasley. What’d your mother do? Die of shock?”
Ron stood up abruptly, knocking over Hermione’s cat’s basket in the process.
The sleeping Professor snorted at the disturbance. Malfoy’s eyes snapped to the figure deep in slumber.
“Who’s that?” He asked, taking a cautious step back while pointing a skinny finger at the young man.
“New Professor.” Harry answered, standing up as well in case he needed to prevent Ron from lashing at the Slytherin. The girl, not knowing Harry’s purpose of standing up, misunderstood and thought he was gonna try to fight too, and her hands subconsciously went to the boy’s robes, holding tight just in case.
“You were saying, Malfoy?” Harry said, eyebrow raising in question. Malfoy scoffed, knowing he shouldn’t start something in front of a teacher, and whispered to his minions the plan to depart, and so they did.
The two boys sat down, the girl’s hands staying on Harry’s robes but not as tight; she felt safe knowing he was right there but thankfully the robes are big and Harry didn’t notice her grip.
“I’ve had enough of him making comments.” Ron snarled, face dark. “I’ve had it this year; one more comment on my family and I’ll get a hold his head and-”
Ron did something with his hands in the air, the motion not nice enough to explain.
The girl stiffed a laugh with Harry at the action. Hermione on the other hand wasn’t amused.
“Careful Ron. A Professor is right there!” She reminded, but the future Hogwarts teacher was still fast asleep.
Outside it started to rain, the droplets running down the window satisfyingly. The girl watched as the rain poured down and the sky became grey.
“It’s rough out there, I must tell you.” Ron complained, taking Scrabbers at of his pocket but stuffed him right back in once Crookshanks gave a soft hiss.
The train gave a rattle, shaking slightly but hard enough to shake the girl into Harry, her cheek coming in contact with his shoulder.
She leaned back as soon as the force of the train was over, cheeks flushed.
“Sorry.” She mumbled embarrassed.
Harry gave a reassuring smile. “Quite alright.” He said, pushing his glasses up his nose since they fell down a little.
She turned back towards the window to hide her face, watching the rain hammer to the ground. (She would lean forward to get a closer look but the Professor was right there, still deep in sleep despite the practical storm occurring outside.)
All seemed well until the train started to slow, the rain becoming more visible as the thick drops landed to the ground.
“Great, we’re here. I’m starving and dying for the feast.” Ron said, getting up and stretching before looking outside.
“What? We can’t be there quite yet.” Hermione said confused, glancing at her watch.
“Then what’s happened?”
“Well don’t look at me, I don’t know.”
“Flower, let’s look outside.” Harry said, pointing to the door. She nodded, getting up on wobbly legs from sitting down for far too long and walking towards the door.
Both their heads peaked out the open door, many students copying them out of confusion.
The lights suddenly went out, leaving the whole train in darkness.
“Woah! What’s happened?” Ron’s voice said behind them, Harry and the girl still standing by the door.
“Don’t know…” Hermione mumbled.
Harry held onto the girl as they felt their way to their seats. “Do you think we broke down?”
“Don’t know.” Hermione repeated.
The previously open door burst open suddenly, someone making quite a loud entrance before they tripped on something and fell forward right on top of Harry.
“Hello, Neville.”
“Harry? That you?” The boy asked confused as the girl heard him getting up.
“Who’s there?” Ron asked the new voice, only for another one to arrive.
“Ginny? What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Ron-”
“Nevermind come sit.”
“Quiet!!” A third new voice broke out, the Professor finally waking. He lit a fire (in his hands?) and started to walk out the compartment to see what the trouble was.
But someone something arrived before Lupin could leave.
A creature of some sort stood covered in a black cloak from floor to ceiling. Whatever was hidden under the cloak sucked in a sharp breath, and that’s when it happened.
A cold chill came through the air, chilling them to the bone. The girl felt hallow, like every speck of life was sucked out and she felt a flick of sadness; like she’d never be happy again. The cold went beneath her skin and traveled to her chest. She shivered uncontrollably.
A hand appeared from under the cloak, shriveled and pale, only for it to go back under.
The girl reached for Harry subconsciously, seeking for comfort only to feel his body board stiff. She turned to him, eyes wide, watching as his once sparkling eyes behind his glasses roll back in an unpleasant way.
His body twitched as he fell to the floor and off his seat, back on the ground.
“Harry!” The girl yelled, worry brewing in her chest. She knelt down beside him, hand lightly slapping his pale cheek nervously as she brought his head to her lap. So many things were happening around her but she didn’t take the time to notice, for his didn’t care. All she really did notice was that the lights flickered back on again. But all she cared about at the moment was Harry and if he was okay.
His eyes fluttered open, looking at her then looking at all the people around him.
“W-what?” He croaked, neck leaning up and the girl helped him sit up, his back leaning against the seat he was previously sitting in.
“Are you okay, Harry?” She asked, anxiety bending her brows. Harry didn’t answer, swallowing thickly.
“What happened? What’s that- that thing?” He said, eyes scanning the room for an answer. “Someone was screaming, who was-”
“No one was screaming, Harry.” Ron said, his face startled but confused.
There was a moment of silence before they heard a snapping sound, and, swerving their heads in the direction of the noise, saw Lupin breaking chocolate into pieces.
“Eat it, it will help, I assure you.” He spoke, looking at them. “Dementors, am I right?” He said, but no one laughed. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m going to talk to the driver.”
Lupin left, and the girl guided the chocolate to Harry’s lips once she helped him sit down.
“Eat Harry, he said it will make you feel better.” She said gently.
Harry took a nibble, and he visibly relaxed as warmth traveled from the tips of his hair to his toes.
Harry looked around then, rubbing his eyes. “I still don’t understand, what happened?”
The girl was half listening to what the person said as they explained what occurred, her hand going to Harry’s as she gripped his fingers. He looked over at her, lips turning into a soft grateful smile. She smiled back but halfway since she was still worried, and she reached up and fixed Harry’s glasses on his face since they were crooked. He gave her another smile, one better than the last.
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@idkkkkk1111 @iambored24601 @amayaaaxx@brok3nlegs @capsicle115 @buttersuaa @ghostyluvsyou @thisismyacc11 @cvmtitss @bitchycheesecakecat @earlymorninglow @mariit
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elegyofthemoon · 10 days
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can someone remind me to write up my thoughts about gallagher and the enigmata later or at least compile them somewhere i want to share it but also my Goodness i am sleepy as heck today and i have work tonight 😔
#and its a saturday so its gonna be busy asldfjkasdlkah#im just. im so sleepy man#and i have to wake up early too for work tomorrow so i just. Im going to Die between today and tomorrow count on it#but at least on monday-wednesday ill make myself catch up on sleep#love the work but on the downside MY SLEEP.....#i forgot if i said it here. idk where i was posting bro#but the other day i 100% the theme park and am close to 100% dewlight pavilion so i'll be nearly caught up with all information#that + still need to read#but im also nearly caught up with all the reading in penacony too so thats super fun and exciting !!#but because of that i have thoughts askjdfalh#most of it is towards gallagher and the past of penacony and the watchmaker but. you know alskdjfalskjh#avil plays hsr#hsr 2.1 spoilers#just in case o7#i will say though#its wild i havent run into any information regarding the dreammaster at all really#the one who adopted sunday and robin#who is the dreammaster? why does the dreammaster and watchmaker have beef with each other? whats going on?#where did the shift come from between the watchmaker being the father of penacony to the family being in charge#since the family and the watchmaker are kinda against each other#(shakes the game) I WILL KNOW YOUR SECRETS SOON ENOUGH. AS SOON AS I AM MORE AWAKE ITS OVER FOR YOU.#i wish i had someone to ramble about ideas with and like bounce off of#WE CAN SOLVE THE MYSTERIES OF PENACONY! TOGETHER!#and then probably get our asses killed too by getting to close to the legacy 😔✌🏼 itd be the way of the truth
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fleetsonourgecentral · 8 months
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Good that I give Royal Au so light XD
Talking about the Au Scourge's gang (Fiona and the destrutix plus Rosy) exist?
If yes imagine they made everyone VS everyone/gang vs gang XD
Rubs hands together OKAY SO. I have actually done a little bit of thinking about this, and I think both the destructix and the suppression squad are in this au. I haven't fully settled on what exactly the suppression squad's role will be - parental approved company for Scourge, perhaps? - but the destructix are the gang Scourge initially sneaks out of the castle to hang out with before he bumps into Sonic. Scourge's parents don't approve of them - they consider them ruffians, and they aren't as poor as Sonic/they're not quite commoners but they're still considerably lower on the class ladder than Scourge - hence why he has to meet up with them in secret. They're rebellious and troublemakers and Scourge is always getting into fights with other people with them, which he finds really fun
Unlike Sonic and co, however, they don't have any interest in taking down the monarchy. They're well aware Scourge is the prince, and probably hoping (most likely subconsciously) Scourge will give them powerful, high-up roles in the kingdom once he takes the throne. If they heard about Scourge's plan to overthrow his parents, they'd be down for it until they realised the next step of the plan would not be Scourge taking the crown for himself, but getting rid of the monarchy entirely and giving the power to the people. They don't want it gone, they're just waiting for the day Scourge takes the throne
Tldr they're Scourge's friends that his parents really, really wish he wasn't friends with, and they've forbidden him from speaking with them, but that just means he sneaks out to meet up with them. Trying to meet up with them without getting caught is probably why he takes to dyeing his fur whenever he sneaks out, and thus, they are indirectly the reason he eventually bumps into Sonic while disguised as a commoner - or, at least, definitely someone lower than a prince
#sonic the hedgehog#scourge the hedgehog#fleetway sonic#stc sonic#fleet!sonourge#asks#royalty au#the destructix: yeah rebel against your parents!!! fuck em!!!!!#scourge: rebels against them by overthrowing them and dismantling the monarchy for the cute commoner boy he likes#the destructix: wait no not like that-#i suppose this could also result in a gang vs gang thing!!!#depends how long it takes them to find out about the freedom fighters though#i imagine scourge probably isn't too forward with information about his new besties#probably by accident at first or something. idk. maybe he's like 'i just want to keep this one thing for myself'#and then it grows and he realises oh. they'd probably hate it if they knew sonic's plans. maybe try to stop him#either way i imagine it would take them a while to discover the freedom fighters#although they start to catch on that SOMETHING is up when scourge starts ditching them and hanging out less#because he's with sonic and his friends instead#i'll (hopefully) get to your request soon btw!#can't say how long it'll take bc i'm also trying to focus on my other multichapters rn#and i have. a known habit of being like 'ooo fun prompt!' and then not writing it for like a month#my bad lmao..... sometimes the muse just doesn't wanna play y'know#but i will get to it!!! eventually.#so if i haven't done it in a few days. or. weeks. i'm not ignoring it i promise#feel free to keep sending me asks though!!!!#i'll always be thrilled to answer even if it takes a while#(it shouldn't bc asks like this are faster to answer than requests but. y'know. just in case)
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ BEGINNER'S LUCK ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you beat him at his own game on livestream, and it's your first time playing
contents: fem!reader. gojo gets slandered by everyone </3 but he slanders toji. again. vague descriptions of what game you guys are playing, imagine whichever game u want.
author's note: thinkin' about making streamer!gojo a series, stay tuned ...
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"so you're gonna want to click that when someone attacks you," satoru informs you, hand on your shoulder. his chin rests on the top of your head as he watches you learn the in's and out's of some game he's well-known for streaming. "no, not that one, silly. the other one."
you groan and make a face at the screen in exasperation. "why do all the buttons look the same?" you grumble, drumming your fingers on the table next to his luminescent keyboard. "you better go easy on me when we go live."
satoru laughs and kisses the top of your head before strolling over to his own plush seat next to you. "don't worry, sweetheart. i will, i promise."
a couple minutes later, satoru starts chatting with his thousands of viewers as you puzzle over how to join his co-op lobby. 
toji-fushiguro: is your gf gonna join? ;)
you hear satoru scoff and see him lean closer to the monitor, squinting at the message that mentions you. "i remember you," satoru huffs, white hair falling into his eyes. "you better stop bringing her up or i'll block you, fishface."
a small laugh bubbles out of your lips as satoru continues addressing the flood of comments asking about you. in his last stream, he had mentioned thinking about teaching you to play the game he got famous for, and his viewers reacted more than enthusiastically. "wow, you guys really want to see me win against my own girlfriend?" satoru tsks, wagging his finger at the screen. "nah, i promised i'd go easy on her. i like her more than you faceless strangers on the internet. i'm looking at you, toji."
"satoru?" you whisper, scrunching up your nose when he immediately turns to you, all thoughts of publicly humiliating toji set aside. "how do i... join a co-op session?"
your boyfriend grins and leans over, clicking a couple buttons in too fast of a sequence for you to follow, and soon enough, your avatar stands next to satoru's. "there!"
"thanks," you huff, watching him slide back into his chair and banter with a couple more comments. and moments later, the game starts. satoru starts out with a play-by-play of his actions, making it really easy for you to piece together the strategy and techniques of the game. to your surprise, you don't die that easily — in fact, you eliminate five other players before retreating to the top of a tree to hide.
a couple kills later, you and satoru are some of the last people on the map. satoru makes quick work of the leftovers before stretching his arms and grinning smugly. "looks like i trained you well, darling," he calls, briefly turning to you and blowing a kiss. "now, where are you? come out and let me catch you, baby."
you hum in response, not bothering to come down from your tree. thankfully, the leaves are thick enough to obscure your avatar from satoru's view, and he walks right past you without even bothering to check. you grin and lean in closer to the computer, aiming at his blissfully unaware avatar and—
"what the fuck?" satoru yelps when his avatar crumbles to the ground. a message noting his death appears on his screen, and he turns to you immediately, betrayal evident on his shocked expression. "you shot me in the back!" he whines, getting up and looking at your screen in disbelief. "how could you?!"
you stick your tongue out at him smugly. "i win!" you cheer, and satoru splutters in disbelief, stumbling over his words as he watches you reap the rewards of your win. "i can't believe you lost to a beginner," you muse, rubbing in your victory. "maybe i should take over your stream," you continue, fluttering your eyelashes at satoru as he gapes at your screen.
"it's only 'cause i went easy on you!" satoru huffs, walking back to his chair and requesting a rematch. "this time, i won't be so nice."
the next game, satoru doesn't say anything, ocean-blue eyes focused on his own screen. from the stream opened in the corner of your monitor, you see his comments blow up.
suguru-geto: wow you're really off your game today
inumaki: he just sucks wdym
toji-fushiguro: deserved 💯
you think about hiding in a tree again, but decide against it. satoru would probably expect you to repeat that strategy, and for all you know, he might have an item that could help him sneak up on you. so you run off to an area that's relatively flat and keep an eye out for other users. you eliminate two before you catch a glimpse of satoru in a tree, but just a second later, he vanishes. 
from the corner of your eye, you see satoru mouth "got you" to his screen, and just in time, you dodge an attack you wouldn't have seen otherwise. somehow, your finger slips, and you shoot without aim. and somehow, your aim was on-point — satoru's avatar falls to its knees once more, and satoru groans in defeat.
"why are you good at this?" satoru grumbles, jumping off his seat and strolling over to wear you sit with a cocky smile on your lips. he all but abandons his stream as he walks over and pokes you childishly. satoru watches you eliminate the last two users, and he scoffs at the emblem of victory that lights up your screen. he kisses you begrudgingly and mutters something about losing a bet, to which you kiss his nose affectionately.
"but really," satoru whines, plopping back down in his chair and swiveling it to face you. "how are you so good?! and shut up suguru," he snipes, leering at the chat. "i'm doing fine, she's just insane! and you too, inumaki. there's a reason all your fans are regulars on my stream! because you suck!" at that, you snicker, spinning around in your own chair and half-watching the chat blow up with more of his viewers' thoughts. 
inumaki: SHUT UP U JUST LOST TO A FIRST TIMER
megumi-fushiguro: real 
"oh, shut it, other-fushiguro," satoru scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the chatbox. "at least my hair doesn't look like how little kids draw grass."
you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the laugh threatening to slip out, but when satoru turns and pouts at you, you can't help it. he's so petty and stubborn, but his eyes soften when he sees how big your smile is. and, not to your surprise, he matches your grin with one of his own. satoru draws a heart in the air with both his index fingers and scrunches up his nose at you, and your heart melts.
"you're so stupid," you mumble, watching him kick his feet like an antsy five year-old. satoru opens his arms in response, and no more than two seconds pass before you're nestled in his lap. he's wearing a light blue hoodie and white sweats, and nothing could make you more comfortable than that in the world. you turn your head and make eye contact with satoru's camera, and smile at the flood of comments on how cute you two look together.
yuuji-itadori: awww its kinda cute
suguru-geto: sooo down bad tbh
toji-fushiguro: you gotta be f*cking kidding me
satoru kisses the side of your face while glaring at the screen, and eventually he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, "wanna end the stream? there's too many people watching and i wanna keep you all to myself."
"hehe, let's do it!"
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httpsclarye · 7 months
Text
#GOOD LOKING+!
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Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
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Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.
Ao3: Good Looking
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”
“I could not sleep”
“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”
“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
“Are you and Luffy close then?”
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”
“I remember that. You were so naive”
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…
“Not anymore.”
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
“What dear? See something you lik-”
You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.
”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
“My love, you are so perfec-“
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
“Sanji, p-please more”
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”
“Next time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”
"And you should go shirtless more often too.”
"Only for you, my love.”
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023
6K notes · View notes
5sospenguinqueen · 16 days
Text
Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.
Apologies but this is a female reader.
Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.
There is no timeline for this. Make it up.
Main Masterlist.
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.
"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."
"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.
Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"
She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.
Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.
"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"
"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.
"Who?!"
"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.
"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."
She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"
"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
The interview went viral.
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YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)
→ LandoNorris no.
User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face
User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?
User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.
→ Your User Name 👀👀
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User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.
User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.
User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.
OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.
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YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.
YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.
PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...
→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.
User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.
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User 8 coming for his teammate
User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull
User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms
YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back
→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium
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Max33Verstappen not my babies?!
→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.
→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself
→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next
→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*
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User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.
User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.
User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?
User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster
→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next
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User we found the snitch
User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?
LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond
Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.
redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.
→ YourUserName crap.
User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?
→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.
→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed
→ lilymhe can confirm.
1K notes · View notes
eupheme · 11 days
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— on the fence [into the fire, part ii]
part i | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 3.8k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, oral (m), exhibitionism, spanking, biting, hair pulling, light choking, sub/dom elements, PiV, radiated creampie
a/n: hi! I had a couple ideas I wanted to explore, which turned into a mini-series. I have them all mapped out & I hope to have them up for you soon! 💖
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
(Or - the Ghoul gets you out of your Vault Suit.)
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You’re not sure you like the look of this town.
It sprawls wide and low across the desert, the inhabitants gathering in the shadows to escape glare of the sun. A low buzzing murmur that carries with you through the streets.
It feels suffocating, after the open miles before.
Following the dark figure of Ghoul, as you wind through the streets. Partly because you have to - that leash still pulled tight, wrapped around a fist.
Partly because you want to stick close, always.
“-don’t need you slowing me down.” The Ghoul gives the rope a yank, and you scowl, “You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”
Your frown softens. His words still just as harsh, snarled out. But they’re a far cry from before.
Before, when you were certain he was going to hand you right back over to your Vault, in spite of how far you’ve come. Something significant passing in the journey through the desert, as he had taken what you wanted.
The taste of him has since faded, but he still lingers.
“Gotta earn your keep, too.” His head turns, eyeing you from beneath the brim of hat, “You good at anythin’?”
Unable to help it, you smirk - a brow raising. He scoffs in response, eyes narrowing.
“Anyone can be good at suckin’ cock, sweetheart.” He drawls, unimpressed, “’m not so bad at it, myself.”
Your lips part in surprise and he’s the one that grins, now.
The Ghoul picks up another bounty here. A shady, alley-way deal - keeping you close to his heels as he snatches the faded paper contact off a tattered board.
Running into another pair looking for jobs - a fresh scar splitting across the nose of a man who tries to start a conversation, before quickly retreating.
“Fuckin’ amateurs” muttered in reply to your heavy, silent judgement.
The client is tracked down for more information, after. Wasn’t hard to find the man with cage over the lower half of his face. Spikes that scream Raider with the way they jut through his clothes.
Fifty caps for the “goddamn no-good thief” that wiped out his stall in the night, taking every last bullet and can of cram. Last seen about two days ago, heading north.
Dead or alive, the client doesn’t care.
“Did you see ‘em?” The Ghoul frowns, “What they look like? Give me somethin’ to go off of.”
“Course I did,” The man huffs, “Looks just like me, don’t he? He’s my own damn brother.”
You can’t contain your own sideways look in disbelief, only to see The Ghoul returning it.
He bargains for a hundred, and gets it.
It’s hard not to wonder if he had taken your bounty this way. If your face had been scrawled across a piece of paper. Exchanged in a no-nonsense, disconnected way.
How much had your life been worth?
You never asked him. It’s something you’re not sure you even want to know.
The rest of the afternoon is spent stocking up. Caps exchanged for some more ammo. A couple bottles of watery chems, shoved deep in his bag to join the others.
A way the ease the cough that rattles him every few days. The smallest bottle kept out, wrenched open with a tight fist.
It snags at you - the way he swallows it like ambrosia the second he steps away. Gasping and groaning as if it’s air he needs to breathe.
“I’m good at medicine,” You tell his back - following again. Memories of the Vault pushing their way to the surface, “Could make that for you, if we find the stuff. Wouldn’t have to dilute it.” You almost run into him, with the way he’s gone still. The tilt of his head, a single sharp eye piercing through you under the brim of a hat.
Shifting over your shoulder. Narrowing.
His hand fists in the collar of your jumpsuit instead, hauling you down the nearest alley and into the shadows.
“Hey!” You protest, your back knocked against the wall. He cages you in, knuckles pressing into your jaw with his tight grip.
The vial is pinched between his fingers, dangled in front of your face.
“You can make this?” He confirms.
You’re able to confirm it now, never quite getting a good look before. RadAway. It would be simple, compared to some of the stuff you’d had to cook up.
“Get me to a lab, some supplies,” You nod, “And I will.”
“Huh.” He’s close - you can’t help squirming in his grip, as he considers you, “Ain’t that something.”
A second, before his grip eases - but he doesn’t let go. Your bound fists rest against his chest, but there’s no force behind them to drive him off.
“Could’ve just asked.” You huff, “You don’t have to man-handle me.”
He almost smiles - his voice coming low, with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t I?”
It flusters you, how his body presses against yours. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your chest brushing his with each short breath.
His thumb sweeps, ghosting against your skin. Those sunken eyes dropping to your collar, with a frown.
Another glance down the aisle, before they’re dragging over you - voice lowering.
“Need to get you out of this suit.”
His words make stiffen in his arms, a sharp inhale of anticipation.
“Not so smart, are you?” He husks, his gaze dragging from your parted lips, up to your eyes, “Runnin’ around like this. Downright advertising you’re a Vaultie, when someone’s lookin’ for you.”
He’s not wrong. He tracked you down easily enough. You nod is small, a pang of regret as his fingers drop - as he steps away.
“Come on, then. I know a place.”
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The place is an old saloon, the windows blasted out over two centuries ago. The gutted insides filled out with a patched-up bar, the mended tables and scattered chairs filled with patrons. Rooms to rent lining the first - and second floor - if you were brave enough to risk the staircase.
A few stalls set up alongside a wall - a barber ran by a Mister Handy with a looping stutter, the second by another Ghoul. Her few racks are filled with a patchwork of fabric, all in stained and faded patterns.
He gestures, a tilt of his head at the racks, “Pick something out, quick like.”
You’d gape at him, if you weren’t afraid he’d change his mind. Serious about your suit - you’re quick to grab a shirt in your size with only two holes. A pair of trousers, a rip at the knee.
“This ain’t for you.” The Ghoul clarifies darkly in your ear, “This is a trigger-happy town. Don’t need to be wasting my bullets.”
You hum in agreement - undeterred by his tone. The package clutched to your chest as he hands over a couple caps. Stuck over a full two weeks now in the same suit - you’re itching for the soft cotton against the skin.
Turning to leave, but then you’re halting. A couple of the patrons look familiar, hovering just inside the door. Something about that scar-
You’re trying to recall, in the crowd of people you’ve seen today - when a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Wheeling you around as the Ghoul turns to the shop owner.
“You got a room she can borrow?” There’s a change in his tone, almost a sticky-sweet edge to his drawl.
It must work - you’re shown to what used to be an old parlor room. An array of broken chairs, a heavy wooden table. The wallpaper torn and faded, the shades of cream long stained a dull, dirty yellow.
He fills the doorway - an arm propped against the frame, and you hold your wrists out to him dutifully.
You’ve worked at the knots before, to no avail - only to scowl now, as he undoes them easily with one hand.
A moment of silence hanging then, as you give him a pointed look - rubbing at sore wrists.
“You gonna leave so I can change?” You ask, “I’ll just be a second.”
The Ghoul steps forward instead, pulling the door shut behind him. An audible click, as he thumbs at the lock.
“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’.”
A heat flares to life in your cheeks, “You’re staying?”
“That’s right,” He sinks into an old loveseat, propped up on concrete blocks near the boarded-up window, “Can’t leave you alone in a place like this. Fuckin’ vultures would swoop right in.”
You hesitate, watching him warily as an arm slings across the back, legs stretched out against the floor. If you didn’t know better then you think it was something almost akin to concern in his tone.
Or then again - he might just want to keep your bounty to himself. You had hoped you were past that, but-
“What?” His tongue pokes at his cheek, tone taunting, “Gettin’ shy again?”
The clothes are dropped unceremoniously on the table, your Pip-Boy following. A glare, as you reach for the zipper of your Vault Suit, starting to yank it down.
“Hey, now.” His hand raises, “Slowly. Got it?”
There’s an immediate urge to resist, to test him - but then, you’re catching the look on his face.
It’s hungry, beneath the brim of his hat. You start to feel like you did in the desert, and then the alley - intrigue, and desire, and an ache from his words, all melding together.
So, you take it slow. The zipper slipping from your throat, to breasts, then belly. A roll of your shoulders as you slip your arms from the tight sleeves.
His eyes follow, lingering on each inch of bare skin that’s revealed.
“Turn around.” He growls when you reach your hips, and for him - you do.
Bending at the waist as you unlace your boots and step out of them. Back arched as you wiggle, pushing the suit down past your knees. Down soft legs that part, so you can step out of them.
A glance over your shoulder, then. His head tilts, eyes sweeping from your ankles to fix on the crux of your thighs. They press together on their own, a thrill at being on display for him.
He catches you looking, his hand lazy as it drops to his lap. A lift of his hips as he adjusts, palming himself. The other hand leaving the revolver shotgun that rests on the cushion next to him.
Crooking two fingers at you, silently beckoning you over.
You fit between thighs that inch wider. His hands curl on his lap, before he’s slowly peeling his gloves off. Warm, against your hips, biting into your skin.
“Don’t make ‘em like you above ground anymore,” He idly comments, a flatness to his tone that betrays nothing.
Soft and smooth skin. You wonder if he’s thinking about ruining it - sinking his teeth in and taking a bite. Leaving a mark that you’ll carry.
You think you’d let him.
His grip dents your skin, before his hands are dropping. A heated look thrown your way, as his face tips up to yours.
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
It sends a heat rushing through you, knowing that he’s right. You’re locked in a room with the most dangerous man in the city, and it does something to you.
A boldness, in the way you reach behind. His growled out “fuck” when you let bra loosens - joining the blue and yellow suit on the floor.
The wood is rough under your knees. Letting your hands wander, lifting his hips while your work open his belt. Drawing down the rusted zipper.
You grasp at his hips, tugging the faded fabric until he’s free. Fingers tracing over thighs, just as rough and reddened at the rest of him. It’s still not much, but it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.
Bare beneath the stained pants, cock already thick and full where it curves against his hip. All from just watching you - perhaps a strange thing to be proud of, but fuck, you are.
Your hands curl around his knees, as your head dips. Taking more time than you did before. Lips pressing against the taut base, as a hand twists in your hair again.
“Come on and thank me, sweetheart.” He growls - urging you upward, “Gettin’ those clothes for you. Make it worth my while.”
It’s different this time. A familiarity in the way your tongue presses against the flushed head. The taste of the salt on your tongue, before your lips are part around him.
A soft groan, when he’s filling your mouth again. You’ve thought about it often since last time. Wondering when he would have you on your knees again. If he’d want more, the next.
Your heartbeat thuds between your thighs, with the shift of his hips into your mouth - chasing his pleasure.
An urge to make him feel good. Without thinking - your hand wraps around his shaft, as your head eases back.
“Easy, now.” He grits, though his eyes are fixed on how your fingers curl around him. How it pumps, squeezing him with spit-slick fingers.
Jerking him into a mouth that parts so prettily for him. Your other hand slipping against his thigh, with feather-light brushes. A short inhale before you take him deep again, your fist sliding down to the base.
The next time you pull him from mouth for a breath, drool stringing from his cock to your lips, he hears himself growling out, “Stop.”
You’re being too tender, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Should have kept you bound, like last time.
The Ghoul’s fingers bite into your chin, your mouth glossy from how you swallowed him down.
“I’m taking you this time. Know you’ve been just aching for it.” He husks, his thumb pressing against your lip. Watching your tongue peek out to taste it, “Go on. Get up, and get your ass over to that table.”
Your desire nearly eclipses everything else. Pushing on his thighs for support, crossing the three steps to the side of the table.
“No,” He follows - the gun clattering on the table top, brought over from the couch. His hands at your hips, guiding you until you’re facing the door, “Right here, sweetheart. I’ll be keepin’ watch.”
It has you remembering where you are - that you’re just supposed to be getting changed. Wondering if you should worry that you don’t care - the thought of piping up, having the risk of losing this chance and denying pleasure again has you quickly adapting.
A hand presses at the small of your back insistently, bending you over it. You can feel him against the curve of your ass, sticky against your skin.
“Cross your wrists,” His thighs shift against yours, as you fix your hands that has flattened against the tabletop.
Making it easy for him to grasp at them with one hand - stretching them further, pressing them against the wood as he kicks your thighs further apart.
Leaving you on tip-toe, arched against him.
“Look at you, listening.” He almost coos, with another lazy rock. His cock shifts, fitting between your thighs, nudging against you.
“I think-” You start, but it’s punctuated by a moan, “Think you just like tying girls up.”
“Now you’re gettin’ it,” He drawls, “Though I don’t discriminate. Theres just something ‘bout havin’ you like this-”
The Ghoul leans over you then, his grip tightening. Pinning you firmly between him and the table, unable to do more than squirm as his free hand slips between your thighs, cupping you.
It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and your muscles string tight - trying not to buck into his palm. Against fingers that rub against your clit, pressing the sticky fabric to your skin.
“Fuck.” He rasps in your ear. Nails bite into your hips, as he tears the fabric down to your thighs.
Coming back to press against your bare cunt, fingers slipping against your folds. You’re unable to help the soft whimper as he parts you, two fingers teasing at your entrance.
“Please,” You whine, as he pets against you. Smearing your slick up to your clit again, his fingers parting just as he reaches it.
His cock presses against your leg, thick and stiff. A roll of his hips until it’s pressed snug against your cunt - jutting between your thighs just below his hand.
“Your pussy is downright leakin for me, sweetheart,” He growls, “You need it that bad?”
You whine, your head turning to look - watching how he arcs over you. That blown-wide look in his eyes again, as you nod.
There’s a split second as his hand leaves you, before it’s cracking down on the meat of your ass. You gasp in shock as you go still beneath him, the pain unexpected and swirling with your heady need.
“Say it out loud,” He barks out, “Tell me just how much.”
Your skin stings, his fingers twitch before he kneads roughly at the flesh - the burn of it akin to way you ache for him.
“I need it,” You keen, “Need your cock. Want you to fuck me-”
The words cut off - a rough hum of approval before he’s lining himself up, a hand curving to grip your hip. The other flexes around your wrist, before he’s driving himself deep with a single, powerful thrust.
Your cry is loud, this time. Low and rough, pushed from your lungs as your pussy makes room for him.
“Fucking christ, you’re tight,” He grunts, unable to help the shallow buck of his hips, “Better than my goddamn dreams.”
It makes you moan - the gritted-out admission not lost on you.
Even with how wet you are, you still feel like you’re stretched wide. An ache radiating through you, sparking to life as he inches out, only to plunge deep again. The table bites into your hips, back arching as he sets a rough rhythm.
The sharp twinge starting to fade, as you begin to accommodate him. Growing accustomed to the heavy weight of him inside you, the steady stroke against your walls that has you starting to clench down around him.
Your breathing grows shorter, faster. Face turning to bury in the curve of your shoulder, muffling the moans that are pushed from you - until his hand is leaving your hip, twisting in your hair with a sharp tug.
Forcing your head back, his grip anchoring you.
“Don’t think so, darlin’. Know you saw those eyes on you,” He’s lost the steady edge to his voice, words turning rough, “Go on, be loud.”
The Ghoul’s hips pound harder, the rough texture of his cock stroking deep. Each sending a current through you, leaving your fingers and toes flexing, aching for just a little bit more.
“Saw you come in with me. Show ‘em who you belong to.”
“Fuck!” You cry, wishing you had a name to scream. Unable to muffle your ragged breath, the moans he pulls from you.
It fills the room, melding with the slick punch of his cock into your wet and needy cunt. Better than before, because his hands are on you now - leaving your hair, blunt nails dragging down your back. Ghosting across your hip, where your skin presses into the wood.
“Touch me.” You beg, again, “Let me touch myself, I can’t-”
His hand withdraws, and you whine - backpedaling. Afraid that he’s going to pull from you, finish himself across your back or your ass for asking.
“Please. Fuck, please. Don’t, I’m so close-”
He groans at your plea through clenched teeth.
Releasing his grip on you, only for his hand to slide to the base of your throat. His other arm looping beneath you as he hauls you against him, flattening against your ribs.
Palming at a soft breast, as you’re pulled up and pressed flushed to his chest.
“Listen to you, miss manners,” He grins - teeth bared, “That’s more like it, honey.”
The bandolier cuts into your skin, the wood into your thighs. And change in the angle that has your cries growing louder as his cock pounds against a soft spot inside you. Warm breath ghosting against your neck, deep rumbling growls in your ear.
Everything fades, growing hazy. His fingers tighten, but not enough to fully choke the air from you. An implication - your own hands wrapping around his wrist to anchor yourself to him. 
You can hear him inhale you, the scrape of teeth against your skin above the heavy press of his fingers. Salvation in the way the hand splayed beneath your chest drifts lower, his voice smooth in your ear.
“This is for listening,” He husks, “You understand?”
Relentless, when his fingers press against your clit. Slick and circling until you’re grinding into his touch, meeting the hard slap of his hips.
The gasping chant of “fuck, fuckfuckfuck,  please-” turning into mindless whimpers, his rough rhythm growing sloppy.
“Goddamn, you feel good.” It’s a ragged sigh, “Feel your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gonna make a mess, sweetheart?”
It sounds muted, layering with a ringing white noise. Your nails bite into his wrists as the swiftly building tides breaks. Almost missing the sweet growl in your ear.
“Let them hear how a pretty thing like you sounds coming on a cock like mine.”
You do, with the next swirl of his rough fingers - the sound broken as he rips it from you.
Bearing down around the cock that fits so deeply into you, with each blissful pulse of your release. Forgetting about the rest - about the outside world - as your nerves alight with pleasure.
His hand drops from your throat to brace against the table. Bending you flat again as he feels you flutter and gush around his length, crushing you against the top as blunt teeth close against the pulse point of your throat, biting down.
The sounds of his own orgasm muffled - a ragged groan as his cock throbs, as he fucks himself deep into you. Tasting the salt of your skin as you yelp, clenching around him - milking him until your walls are coated with his spend.
He hadn’t meant to - but the urge to pull from you had wavered the moment he buried himself in your cunt. Abandoned completely, after feeling you come so sweetly around him. An instinct lingers even now - to enjoy the soft press of your body against his, your warmth.
You shiver as his lips brush your neck, the closest thing to an apology as you’ll get - before he’s pulling away from you, leaving you clenching and empty.
A ragged hand slips between your thighs as you prop yourself up on your elbows, catching your breath. Pleasure still radiating from your core as fingertips swipe through the come that is just starting to leak from you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He laughs - the sound ragged, with a flash of yellowed teeth.
“Guess this means you better start cookin’.”
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The Vault Suit is left beneath the table, a crumpled up reminder that you’re happy to leave behind.
Your cheeks burn as you leave the saloon - the strangers from before cleared out. A definite wobble to your steps - something that The Ghoul certainly notices, the low tilt of his hat hiding the curling pull of his lips.
Outlining the path towards the next bounty as you find your way out, guessing where you might find a lab along the way.
And it’s only as the city starts to fade, that you realize -
He never bound your wrists again, after.
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I have the brainrot for this man for sure! Thank you for stopping by & reading 💖 (and I have also been reading so much about the new chem the Ghoul takes! For plot & smut reasons - I am going with RadAway, haha)
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Text
Barking Up the Right Tree (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count: 3,6k
When Charles loses his beloved pup, Leo Leclerc, a chance encounter with Y/N sets off unexpected connections, with Leo as their furry matchmaker.
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Chaos ensued within the walls of Charles Leclerc's apartment. The normally serene atmosphere was shattered by the frantic shouts of a disheveled Charles, whose in a state of sheer panic.
“Leo! Leo Leclerc, where are you, you little rascal?” Charles bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls in a comically dramatic fashion.
His apartment was like a crime scene. Furniture was overturned, cushions were scattered haphazardly, and drawers were flung open with reckless abandon. Charles, with his hair disheveled and clothes askew, resembled a character straight out of a slapstick comedy.
In his frenzied search for his beloved puppy, Charles would left no stone unturned, quite literally. He rummaged through cabinets, peeked under the sofa, and even checked inside the refrigerator, all to no avail.
“Leo, this is no time for hide-and-seek!” Charles exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice as he stumbled over a stray slipper.
He then moved his search outside. As Charles raced through the corridors of his apartment building, his anxiety reached fever pitch. With each passing minute, his desperation intensified, evident in the way he nervously gnawed on his nails, his mind swirling with worst-case scenarios.
“Merde! I've lost my son! Comment cela pourrait-il arriver.”
Undeterred by the curious stares from his neighbors and fueled by a single-minded determination to find Leo, Charles pressed on, his heart racing with every beat. The thought of his beloved puppy lost and alone filled him with a sense of dread he couldn't shake.
With a frantic flutter of fingers, Charles dialed his younger brother Arthur's number, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a drummer in a speed metal band. As the phone rang, he paced back and forth in the hallway.
“Arthur! Arthur, it's Charles,” he blurted out as soon as his brother picked up, words tumbling out of his mouth.
But poor Arthur, who was likely expecting a casual chat about the latest racing gossip, was utterly unprepared for the torrent of words that assaulted his ears.
“Woah, Hey. Slow down, Charles, I can barely understand a word you're saying!” Arthur protested, his voice barely audible over the static of the phone line.
Charles, however, was in no mood to slow down. With a mind as revved up as a Red Bull engine on race day, he continued to babble on at breakneck speed, his words blurring together into an incomprehensible stream of syllables.
“Leo's missing, Arthur! I've searched everywhere, but he's nowhere to be found!” Charles exclaimed, his voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass.
But try as he might, poor Arthur simply couldn't keep up with his older brother's frantic pace. In the end, all he could do was offer a bewildered “What? Please speak like a normal person.”
Charles took a quick, short breath to anchor himself. With newfound focus, he prepared to explain the emergency concisely to Arthur, knowing that every second counted in finding Leo.
“Arthur, listen carefully," Charles began, his voice measured this time. “Leo, my puppy, he's gone missing. I need your help to find him.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line as Arthur processed the information, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden change in tempo.
“Leo's missing?” Arthur repeated, his voice tinged with concern. “Don't worry, we'll find him together. I'll be there in a flash.”
With Arthur's reassurance ringing in his ears, Charles responded. “Thank you,” nodding along, “I’ll be waiting for you.”
And so, Charles hung up the phone. Little did he know, however, that the help he sought was already on its way in the most unexpected of forms.
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Y/N had just finished working, the gentle breeze caressed her skin, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. Monaco, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, seemed to shimmer with an ethereal beauty, casting long shadows that danced playfully along the cobblestone streets.
Today, the weather was exceptionally pleasant, with hints of spring lingering in the air. The scent of blooming flowers mingled with the salty tang of the sea, creating a symphony of fragrances like no other.
Y/N was startled by a faint sound emanating from a nearby bush. At first, she froze in place, “What the—.”
With cautious steps, Y/N approached the bush, her senses on high alert as she strained to identify the source of the mysterious sound. Her palms grew clammy with nervous anticipation, her breaths shallow and quick as adrenaline surged through her veins.
And then amidst the rustle of leaves, she heard it—a soft whimper, barely audible yet unmistakably plaintive. In an instant, fear gave way to compassion as Y/N's instincts kicked into overdrive, overriding her hesitation.
She pushed aside the foliage as she peered into the shadows within. And there, nestled among the leaves, was a small, trembling form—a lost and frightened puppy, its eyes wide with fear and confusion.
With gentle hands, Y/N scooped up the puppy, cradling it against her chest in a gesture of reassurance. She whispered soothing words, her voice soft like a lullaby, as she stroked the puppy's fur in rhythmic motions.
Feeling the warmth of Y/N's embrace and the steady beat of her heart, the puppy began to relax, its panicked whimpers gradually subsiding into quiet sighs. It nestled closer to Y/N, seeking consolation in her comforting presence, as if sensing that she meant no harm.
And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for, the puppy lifted its head and looked up at Y/N with eyes that sparkled with trust. With a tentative wag of its tail, it leaned forward and pressed a gentle lick against Y/N's cheek, a silent gesture of gratitude, making her chuckle with just a simple act.
“Hi, little one. I don’t know who you are, but I promise I’ll help get you back home, okay?” The puppy let out a soft woof, as if in agreement.
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When Arthur arrived at Charles' apartment, he was greeted by a scene straight out of a sitcom gone awry. His older brother, usually so composed, looked like a fish out of water amidst the lavish surroundings.
“Charles, what in the world are you doing?” Arthur exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the sight before him.
But Charles, lost in the throes of his own melodrama, barely registered his brother's presence. “I've lost Leo, Arthur! My precious Leo!” Charles wailed, his voice echoing off the walls like a mournful opera singer.
Arthur blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of this erratic behavior. But Charles was already off on another tangent, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger as he ranted and raved about the injustice of it all.
“I've searched high and low, Arthur, but he's nowhere to be found! What if he's been kidnapped and sold to the meat market? Or worse, what if he's fallen into the clutches of the neighborhood cat gang?”
Arthur could only stare in bemusement as Charles launched into a series of increasingly outlandish scenarios, his arms flailing wildly in the air. “Charles, calm down!” Arthur interjected, trying in vain to inject some semblance of reason into the situation. “We'll find Leo, I promise. But first, you need to pull yourself together!”
And so, with Arthur's attempts at reason falling on deaf ears, the two brothers found themselves locked in a battle of wills—one determined to bring order to the chaos, and the other lost in a world of his own making.
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With a gentle pat on the back, Y/N lowered the puppy to the floor, watching with a smile as it tentatively sniffed and explored its new surroundings. The apartment, though small, was filled with touches of homely comfort—a plush rug nestled beneath a worn armchair, a scattering of potted plants adorning the windowsill, and soft, inviting cushions scattered across the sofa.
“It's okay, little one,” Y/N cooed. “You're safe here now.”
Encouraged by her words, the puppy ventured forth with cautious steps, its tail wagging tentatively as it took in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. With each passing moment, it seemed to grow more at ease.
Its curious nose led it to a corner where Y/N had left a worn cardigan on the floor. With a delighted yip, the puppy bounded over to the garment, nuzzling into its soft folds with unabashed enthusiasm. It snuggled into the fabric, finding comfort in the familiar scent of its new human friend.
Y/N watched with a smile as the puppy nestled into her cardigan, her heart swelling with affection for the adorable creature. “Well, it looks like you've found yourself a favorite spot,” she remarked fondly.
Turning her attention to the puppy, Y/N reached out to stroke its fur. “I'm sorry that I don't know your name,” her eyes meeting the puppy's in a silent exchange of understanding. “For now, I'll just call you chiot.”
Chiot let out a happy bark in response, as if to signify its approval. It wagged its tail enthusiastically.
With a smile, Y/N reached into a nearby cupboard, retrieving a handful of leftover treats from her weekend dog-sitting gigs. “Here you go, chiot," she said, offering the treats to the puppy with an encouraging smile. “You deserve a little something special for being such a good boy.”
Chiot eagerly accepted the treats, gobbling them up with gusto as if to say thank you in the only way it knew how.
Y/N rose from her seat to retrieve her phone. Social media, after all, had a remarkable ability to connect people and she was determined to reunite chiot with his rightful owner.
As she approached the window where the soft light filtered in, Y/N smiled widely at the sight of chiot playing with the edge of her cardigan. It was a picture-perfect moment—one she knew could tug at the heartstrings of even the most stoic of social media users.
With deft fingers, Y/N snapped a quick photo, capturing the essence of the moment in all its adorable glory. She added a caption to accompany the image, a plea to the online community to help her find chiot’s missing owner.
“Lost pup found a cozy spot in my cardigan. I met him on Rue Jean Bouin on my way home. Help me find its owner, Twitterverse! #LostPuppy #Monaco”
With a satisfied nod, Y/N hit the "tweet" button, sending the message out with a hopeful anticipation. And as she watched the likes and retweets trickle in, she couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism that, with a little help from the online community, chiot would soon be home.
Y/N then set her phone down on the counter and turned her attention to the stack of dirty dishes awaiting her. The mundane task of washing dishes was a welcome distraction from the excitement of the afternoon, offering a sense of grounding in the familiar rhythm of her usual daily life.
As she rolled up her sleeves and reached for the dish soap, Y/N hum the newest Sabrina Carpenter’s song under her breath, the melody weaving its way through the air. With practiced efficiency, she tackled the dishes one by one, the warm water soothing her hands as she scrubbed away the remnants of meals past.
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As Y/N tackled her chores, little did she know that her tweet had sparked a wildfire of activity on Twitter. Within moments, it began trending, its reach extending far beyond the borders of Monaco. Twitter users from all corners of the globe joined in the effort, sharing the photo of chiot and spreading the word in the hopes of finding its owner.
But as the photo made its rounds on the internet, eagle-eyed users couldn't help but notice something uncanny—the striking resemblance between chiot and Leo. Speculation ran rampant, with Twitter sleuths piecing together the puzzle one clue at a time.
“Could that be Leo?” one user pondered, their tweet quickly garnering hundreds of retweets and likes.
“OMG, I think you're onto something! Let's get this to Charles Leclerc.” another user replied.
And so, they all flooded Charles’ mentions, bombarding him with tweets and notifications.
Meanwhile, Charles’ annoyance grew with each incessant ping of his phone. With a frustrated sigh, he snatched the device and thrust it into Arthur's unsuspecting hands, his brow furrowed in irritation.
“Read it and tell me what on earth is happening for it to be ringing so much,” Charles grumbled.
But as Arthur's eyes scanned the screen, his expression transformed from confusion to excitement in a matter of seconds. His jaw dropped open in disbelief, eyes widening. “Charles, you won't believe this!” Arthur exclaimed excitedly. “The people on Twitter, they've found Leo!”
Charles froze, his dramatic facade crumbling in an instant as the weight of Arthur's words sank in. His mouth hanging open in a silent gasp as he struggled to process the sudden turn of events.
“They've found Leo?” Charles repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as hope blossomed within him. “Are you sure? Don’t give me false hope.”
Arthur nodded enthusiastically as he relayed the details of the Twitter frenzy. “It's true! They've been retweeting and tagging you like crazy. We need to check it out right now!”
As to prove his point, Arthur shoved the phone back into Charles' face, the screen ablaze with the viral picture. And there, in all his adorable glory, was Leo—staring back at Charles. His breath caught in his throat, as he reached out to touch the screen, as if to confirm that this was indeed real. “Leo,” Charles whispered, tears of joy welled up in his eyes. “You're safe.”
He stared upon the image of his beloved puppy, surrounded by a sea of retweets and likes, “Thank you, kind Twitter people,” Charles murmured. “You've truly worked a miracle today.”
And with that, Charles message the account that originally posted the photo. Their reply comes not even a minute later.
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Y/N jumped excitedly. “I've found your owner!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she clutched her phone tightly in her hands. “Well not exactly, since they found me first.” She said to chiot whose name is apparently Leo.
She quickly composed a message to the anonymous account that had reached out to her, fingers flying across the screen with practiced ease. “Hi there, please come to my apartment to pick Leo up. Here's my address,” she wrote, including the details of her humble abode.
But as she hit send, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of her mind—she still didn't know who she was reaching out to. The message had come from an anonymous account, offering little in the way of clues except for the name “Charles.”
But Y/N, ever the optimist, simply shrugged off her concerns. “Well, I'll find out soon enough,” she reasoned aloud to herself.
And with that, Y/N waited patiently for Leo's owner to arrive, she allowed herself to bask in the warm glow of the moment, savoring the magic of the unexpected connections that life had brought her way.
__________________________________________
Charles and Arthur arrived at the address provided, they found themselves standing before a modest apartment building, its faded facade hinting at the stories contained within its walls.
They climbed up three level of stairs before reaching the designated floor, their hearts pounding from either anticipation or the effort that it took to climb here. Arthur then raised his hand to knock on the door. The sound echoed through the hallway like a drumroll.
With a breathless hush, the door swung open, revealing Y/N with Leo cradled in her arms like an infant. The puppy barked excitedly at the sight of Charles, his tail wagging furiously as he squirmed in Y/N's embrace.
And there, in that moment, time seemed to stand still as Charles beheld the sight before him. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of Leo, but his gaze was also drawn irresistibly to the figure standing before him.
“Leo!” Charles greeted, his voice filled with unbridled joy as he reached out to scoop the puppy into his awaiting arms. Leo responded with an enthusiastic lick to Charles' face.
But as Charles looked up to thank Y/N for her kindness, he found himself momentarily speechless, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her standing before him. She was even more beautiful up close.
“Thank you so much for finding him,” Charles managed to say as he looked into Y/N's eyes. “I can't begin to express how much this means to me.”
As Y/N stood before Charles, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest, she struggled to find the right words to convey the mix of emotions swirling within her. Her mind raced a mile a minute, leaving her speechless and utterly flustered.
“Um... hi, yeah. You’re welcome.” Y/N stammered as she struggled to regain her composure. But try as she might, the words seemed to elude her. And so, with a helpless shrug and an awkward smile, she simply stood there, her gaze locked with Charles', her mind a blank canvas awaiting inspiration.
Meanwhile, Arthur, ever the astute observer, couldn't help but notice the strange exchange unfolding before him. A suppressed chuckle bubbled up within him, as he watched his brother turn into an awkward mess. The woman opposite him doesn’t look that good either.
Arthur discreetly nudged Charles with his elbow, Charles just shot him back an annoyed look.
Was he witnessing his brother, THE Charles Leclerc, developing a crush on someone he had just met?
His suspicions were only heightened as he noticed Charles' telltale fidgeting—the nervous habit of tugging at the edge of his jacket, a sure sign that his brother was feeling the heat of the moment. With each tug and twist of the fabric, Charles seemed to grow more and more flustered.
But if Charles was nervous, then Y/N was equally oblivious to her own telltale signs of attraction. Unbeknownst to her, she was absentmindedly fixing her hair, smoothing down stray strands with delicate fingers in a gesture as unconscious as it was endearing. Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity as she met Charles' gaze.
And all the while, Arthur stood there, caught in the crossfire of his brother and this alluring stranger, no longer able to suppress the laughter from deep within him. It was a scene straight out of a romantic comedy. The sheer absurdity of it left Arthur struggling to keep a straight face.
As Arthur's laughter reverberated through the hallway, Charles and Y/N were jolted awake, their gaze meeting in a shared moment of bemusement. With a sheepish smile, Charles extended his hand towards Y/N and she accepted the gesture with a shy smile, her hand fitting nicely in his.
“It's nice to officially meet you, Y/N,” Charles said, his voice sincere. “I can't thank you enough for taking care of Leo.”
Y/N returned his smile with a warm one of her own. “Oh, it was no fuss at all,” she replied. “I loved every moment of taking care of Leo. He is very sweet.”
Leo let out a playful bark, his tail wagging furiously as if to confirm that he had indeed behaved well during his unexpected adventure.
Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Leo's enthusiastic response, her heart melting at the sight of his playful antics. With a tender smile, she reached out to rub his head affectionately, her fingers sinking into his soft fur as she showered him with praise.
“You're such a good boy, Leo,” Y/N murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection as she gazed into his soulful eyes. “Thank you for spending some time with me.”
Charles realized it is time to take his leave, even though every fiber of his being longed to stay and say more. With a polite nod and another murmured word of thanks, he turned to make his exit, his heart heavy with the weight of missed opportunities.
But just as he took a few steps on the direction of the stairs, Charles felt a sudden weight lift from his arms as Leo wriggled free and bounded back towards Y/N, his tail wagging eagerly as if urging her to come along. Charles froze in his tracks.
Y/N, however, frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she watched Leo's antics. “I'm sorry, Leo,” she said. “But I can't come with you. You’re back with your dad now.”
At her words, Leo let out a soft whine, his ears drooping in disappointment. His eyes now glistened with unshed tears.
And as Charles watched the exchange between Y/N and Leo, a pang of sympathy tugged at his heartstrings, his own feelings of awkwardness momentarily forgotten. He longed to reach out and comfort them both.
But alas, the moment passed too quickly and before Charles could find the words, Leo sullenly walk back to him.
Before his mind could process his thoughts, Charles blurted out, “Uh by any chance can I, uh, get your number?”
Y/N's grin widened into a radiant smile at his request. She went inside and came back with pen and scrap of paper, her movements graceful as she jotted down her digits.
But Y/N wasn't done yet. She added one final touch to the paper—a little doodle of Leo, complete with a wagging tail and a cheerful smile. Beneath the sketch, she scribbled a note that read, “And if you ever need a dog sitter for this little troublemaker, you know who to call!”
“Sure thing!” she chirped. “Here you go.”
And as she watched him tuck the paper into his pocket, she knew that not a minute would go by without her waiting for that message from him to arrive.
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pearlywritings · 1 month
Text
The scent of being mine
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synopsis: lately your husband has been staying deep in his thoughts as if bothered by something. It's only natural you want to figure it out and help.
pairing and characters: Neuvillette x fem!reader
tw: established relationship (marriage), tiny hurt/comfort, draconian features (scenting, growling, implied sharp nails)
word count: 3k+ words
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“Beloved, you are brooding. More than you usually are.”
Your comment snaps Neuvillette from his thoughts, long lashes fluttering in surprise. He blinks, primordially beautiful eyes finally focus on the document in front of him, and the man makes a frustrating discovery - he’s been staring at one single line of text for who knows how long.
“Beloved?” Your sweet voice soothes the momentary disappointment, and Iudex’s undivided attention is on you in a second. 
“Yes, my dear? My apologies, I didn’t quite catch what you said. Could you be so kind and repeat, please?”
You lower the book onto your lap, and the man can’t help but relish in the sight of you comfortably lounging on the sofa in his office at the Palais Mermonia, with your shoes neatly put near one of its legs and your legs hidden under the light embroidered plaid. Your back and side sink into multiple pillows, half of which he fetched for you previously from the second sofa, and you look pleasantly relaxed within the walls of his work space, knowing very well that he has no meetings scheduled for the day, and the only people who can enter his office are the melusines with document delivery. And who would be uncomfortable in the presence of their own ‘daughters’?
“I was saying that you are brooding. And It won't be superfluous to note your sour mood too,” you nod in the window’s direction, where the sky is cloudy and gloomy. It has been this way for a couple of days already. “I wasn’t bringing it up since I thought you were simply a bit stressed, but after observing you for some time, I am sure there’s something on your mind that’s been bothering you immensely.”
Neuvillette exhales deeply. How could he ever hide anything from the woman he’s been married to for so long? Not that he ever tried, but subconsciously he sometimes tends to push his own worries aside not to make you fret. Besides, usually it’s not something of a big deal…
Watching the thoughts overtaking his mind again, you grab the bookmark from the armrest and soon the closed book takes its place, at the same time as you push the plaid off. Not caring to put the shoes on, you make a quick way to the grand doors to turn the key left in the hole from the inside. But changing your mind a little, you take a hold of a handle instead and crack the door slightly open, enough for the melusine at the reception to hear you.
“Sedene, sweety, Monsieur Neuvillette is taking a small break.”
You can’t quite see her perking up in her booth, but you know she is aware of what that means.
“Thank you for informing me, Madame. Would you like anything to drink or eat? I could send someone to put an order in whatever restaurant you’d like.”
“Much appreciated, but we’ll be fine.”
You hear her hum in understanding and only then close the door and lock it, turning the key two times.
“Now…” glancing back at your husband, you slowly walk back to your previous place of resting, but making it past the sofa and then around the desk, stopping right at his side. Neuvillette lifts his head, looking at you, and immediately pushes the chair back to make room. Gloved hands take a hold of your waist when you step closer and help you settle down onto his lap. One stays gingerly on your hip, the other is placed upon your knees, as you adjust your position, turning half-around to face him. Mesmerizing eyes with slitted irises stare at you with hardly-veiled adoration, and for a moment it almost fools you into thinking that nothing is wrong. Until he inhales and white eyebrows furrow slightly.
“Neuvi, what’s going on? Is it something I can assist you with?”
The man leans forward, pressing his face to your neck, silky locks of his fringe tickling you when he releases a breath. Your fingers find the back of his head, softly scratching the scalp, making him groan in satisfaction. His own digits flex, and you think you feel the claws digging slightly into your flesh through the dark material of his gloves and the skirt of your own clothes, and you let the dragon be a tiny bit greedy in expressing his affections.
“It’s not something I thought would bother me,” you hear him murmur into your neck. Instead of rushing to ask him to elaborate, you encourage him to take his time with a soft touch, gently following the pointy shape of his ear with your fingertip. The man shivers, but quickly relaxes, leaning into your body a bit more.
“Why logically I understand I’m in the wrong, but on an instinct level it doesn’t give me rest. Remember the celebration Lady Furina threw three days ago?”
Ah, of course you remember. It was a nice little feast the Archon organized to mark another successful staging of hers, to which your husband and you were obviously invited. You can’t, however, recall anything particular that could upset Neuvillette. He wasn’t offered anything to taste he didn't enjoy - had his own supply of fresh water even; he had no cases to worry about, having finished everything rather important beforehand, and he was not engaged in any interactions he could potentially be uncomfortable with. Maybe it was something related to you? However, you can’t think of anything: most of the time you spent conversing with Furina, discussing her next outstanding and grand performance, or dancing with your beloved, happily twirling in his embrace. Sure, other people approached you too, but…oh. Wait, there was something.
“Do you mean the celebration during which that opera performer from Li Yue was flirting with me?”
Immediately his body tenses and a low sound, kind of sounding like a growl, escapes his strained throat. He quickly composes himself though, once you drop your hand from his head to his back, drawing circles there.
“...I apologize for that.”
“Please don’t, I don’t mind a bit of jealousy,” you assure him, and the man finally leans back, looking at you with those fairytale eyes.
“You think it was jealousy?”
“Well, maybe right now it was just a bit of frustration, but back then I think it was jealousy,” Neuvilette hums, lowering his gaze, processing the information. You meanwhile decide to ask more. “But what sparked it? You know I am yours and that no human will ever be able to steal me from you.”
“Ah, my love, I am fully aware of that,” gloved palm leaves your knee and cups your cheek instead. “I know all that, but…but what I felt is hard to explain in words.”
“Try,” you encourage, turning your head and kissing his palm, “I’ll get it.”
“Alright,” with a sigh he lets his fingertips outline the contour of your jaw and travel down the side of your neck, sending a pleasurable sensation down your back. “I suppose I should start with what happened before, when we were still back home. You looked so ravishing and regal - a true gem to an eye, - and I just couldn’t help but let some of my scent linger on you.”
Which is absolutely fine, you love doing the same for him.
“Keeping that in mind I felt all those strange emotions wringing my heart, as he was giving you compliments, especially about the scent, not realizing it’s mine. And then more and more.”
As he doesn’t find what more to say, you stare at him, trying to analyze the information. After a couple of minutes of silence, during which you absent-mindedly braided a little braid out of his straight lock, you decide to summarize.
“So… If I understood you correctly, it felt upsetting that, basically, he caught the whiff of you on me, yet didn’t stop his attempts to hit on me. Am I right?”
“Exactly,” a small smile graces his pale lips, and Iudex presses a delicate kiss to your shoulder. “I could not have worded it better.”
“Hmm… Now I see why you are torn. It is annoying for sure, but it’s not like an ordinary human could know of draconian peculiar properties.”
He nods, thumbing at the pulse point on your neck, staring a little bit past you. His state is saddening, really, even though a tiny slither of pride infiltrates your heart - knowing your husband wants the world to know you are his as much as you want to claim the same about him… Would’ve made you purr if you were a feline.
You shiver when Neuvillette brings his face close again, soft lips pressing to the side of your neck.
“You are so dear to me, my love…” he breathes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat, voice full of unbridled devotion, something not many can hear from this stoic man throughout their whole life. “There are days when I can’t bear the thought of you not being close to me, I overcome with desire to be in your presence, to hold you in my arms, to listen to your divine voice… When you call my name, I want to bring everything I have to your feet.”
“But you already do so,” you cup his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “You don’t have to say all of it - you sound like you are apologizing, like you are trying to excuse your natural behavior. Don’t do it, please. You are so precious to me, I’d be damned if I ever felt unnerved by something like this.”
“I apologize if it sounded like this,” he sighs, long lashes flattering close, when you proceed to kiss over his eyelids. “I just meant to express how thankful I am that you chose me.”
“Oh, Neuvi,” you chuckle, kissing the bridge of his nose and when the tip of it. “I adore when you are so affectionate in private. As for the public display, if we return to the topic of scent… I think I could figure something out for the both of us. If you trust my judgment, that is.”
“How can I not?” Those eyes are staring back at you, bottomless pools swirling with wonder and elation. “Only if you truly want this.”
“I do,” your lips hover dangerously close to his. “And I will find the way.”
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Soft thuds rhythmically yet quite leisurely cut through the lofty noises of the Court of Fountaine, catching the attention of the passersby. One hit of an elegant cane against the pavement equals two steps of yours, as you and your husband walk through the main square of the city. Your appearance - no matter together or by yourself - always gathers attention, and you could bet that if Fontaine didn’t have a law prohibiting photography of executives without their permission, your picture would’ve adorned tomorrow’s copy of The Steambird.
And you are a sight to behold - your hand resting in the crook of his elbow, gloves matching perfectly his today’s cravat of choice, jewelry specifically picked to mirror the beauty of their wearer’s partner, clothes tailored to clearly be a ‘couple outfit’... It is pretty evident that this outing is planned, if the Iudex’s absence from the Palais Mermonia didn’t serve as a clue.
You hold no conversation, rather relishing in the warm rays of sunlight (you did though tease Neuvillette upon stepping outside that his mood seemed to improve). Despite looking like it’s you who is clutching onto the man and him leading you somewhere, it’s completely vice versa. Your beloved has absolutely no idea what kind of ‘surprise’ he is soon to experience, but your previous words keep his mind at rest - you found a solution for his concern.
As a result, his high spirits are pretty apparent to the people who know him well. Or the melusines, if one is being accurate, who approach you two along the way with warm words of greetings and cute waves of their hands, which brightens Neuvillette’s features more evidently.
“I think we should soon visit the Merusea Village,” you suggest after bidding goodbye to Tristane. “And do a little gathering for our girls who work here, in the city. I am sure they have many stories to share with us.”
“I would really like that,” Neuvillette's smile is a heart-warming sight. You can only hope that you’ll get to see it more after today. “How about we start planning tomorrow after work?”
“That would be wonderful! I can’t wait to write an invitation to every single one. And to the village too.”
“Then it’s on you as always,” he agrees without objection, leaning a little to subtly kiss your temple when you turn the corner. Letting out a soft chuckle, you give him a fond look, and then focusing back on the street.
It’s barely a couple of minutes later when your partner sees you perk up. Trying to pinpoint what caught your eye, the man scans the signboards of the shops and boutiques lining up at both sides of yours. Jewelry? No, he doesn’t think so - you adorn each other with fine gemstones regularly. Clothes? Doubtful, given you’ve just received a couple of new outfits a week before. Maybe it’s-
You disturb these wandering thoughts, tugging on his elbow to catch his attention. Looking at you and then following the direction of your raised hand, Neuvillette lifts his eyes to read the signboard above the shop you’ve stopped in front of.
“Palais des parfums”
“So,” you start when he gives you a questioning look, “it’s a perfumery, yes. And my suggestion is the following - let’s choose a scent we could wear together. Before you get concerned about it becoming too popular, because we will use it, this shop has an option of creating something personal. We can just pay a little more to make it exclusive.”
“The same…scent?” Your husband hums, touching his chin in thought. This actually sounds quite good - created by a human master, it is to be perceived by humans, and by utilizing one fragrance on you both it will be made clear that the two of you are spouses. Not to mention the newspaper that will spread the fact for others to know. “My dear, that’s a marvelous idea.”
“Really?” A wide smile lifts the corners of your lips.
“Really. I like it a lot,” he assures you with a smile of his own. “And I do favor the possibility of making perfume specifically for us. How did you know though, my love?”
“Have done my research. And already spoke to the vendor before. Furthermore, I think we can order the creation of two perfumes. One for every day, and one for grand events where our presence is required.”
“I see you’ve done your research indeed,” his words are soft and gaze is full of admiration. It’s so hard to resist and not kiss him right in the middle of the street, yet let your fingertips gently scratch his forearm.
“I promised my husband a solution, didn’t I? Couldn’t disappoint you.”
“You can never disappoint me, if anything you astonish me every single day of our lives. Shall we get inside?”
“We shall. Just please, beware, there are a lot of fragrances mixed in the air. I am afraid your nose will be assaulted just like mine was.”
“I can bear with it, beloved. I would be a coward of a husband, if I turned back after the amazing work my wife did,” your cheeks heat up at his praise and you lightly dig your covered nails into his arm.
“Oh, stop it, no need to be so sweet, I already understood your appreciation for this,” your eyes motion to his hand resting on the hilt of the cane and fingers joyfully tapping against the wood. With a barely audible chuckle, the man unhooks your arms, wrapping his around your waist, and steps forward, reaching for the handle.
A soft chime caresses his ears, as the maddening mix of scents hits him right in the nose. Glancing to the side to check on you, he notices how you instantly switch to breathing through your mouth and follows your example. It, thankfully, gets better.
The shop owner is not hard to find, a sweet lady in her late 50’s welcomes you with a glint in her eyes upon recognizing you, which soon is replaced by the look of surprise when she sees your companion.
“Good afternoon, Monsieur, Madame, how can I help you?”
“Good afternoon, Mrs Deschamps,” you greet her with a smile, “I came by two days ago, remember?”
“Yes, yes, how could I forget our dear Madame? You were curious about my perfumes and if I do personal orders.”
“Right! This is my husband,” you motion to the man still courteously holding your waist, who bows in greeting.
“Pleasure to be meeting you.”
“O-oh! How could I not know you and your husband? Your wedding was the event of the century!”
“Haha, you flatter us,” you chuckle merrily, covering your mouth. “We are here to put in an order. We’d love to buy a newly crafted perfume. However, we have a couple of conditions…”
It’s almost evening when the doorbells chime again, marking your departure. Once again walking side by side and with arms linked, Neuvillette feels an almost primordial satisfaction. These hours spent in that stuffy, smelly box of a shop will be absolutely worth it when your order is complete. While he does feel the inevitable approach of a runny nose after test-smelling way too many fragrances, and it doesn’t feel like he left work today at all, as he was handling legal documents relied to the exclusivity of the product, he doesn’t regret a single mora spent and to be spent in the future for this.
Soft thuds once again cut through the sounds of the city, and they are gently lulling your mind. Maybe your head hurts just a little bit, but it pales in comparison to the invested state of your husband and how much evident fun he had in meticulously choosing the right aromatic notes to your future shared scent.
You can’t wait to help him apply it every single morning to come and get the same treatment in return. This is going to be a new, hopefully a long-staying option to your usual scenting routine.
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