#i’m going to try and elaborate something to say when i wake up

[joonie-beanie]

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart. 

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop. 

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 

Finally, you're bare beneath him. 

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!” 

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much. 

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.” 

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you. 

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment. 

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

#genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette fic #genshin impact x reader #bean fic #genshin x reader

[h1rxx]

//YALL I’M SO SORRY IF I’M NOT SAYING ANYTHING RN I’M JUST REALLY TIRED AND I’M GOING TO SLEEP SO I CAN’T THINK OF ANYTHING THAT MAKES PROPER SENSE

I’M SO SORRY

#i’m going to try and elaborate something to say when i wake up #again im so sorry #i feel kinda bad #cause i said that i wanted to help #okay i’m going to go now #SORRY AGAIN #h1rxx

[oncasette]

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗬 𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

KINKTOBER ACT I, ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: 3.1k

“Your fucking muse? You ask. You shove the top photo directly in his face. It’s a picture of you in your underwear as seen through your bedroom window, hands in the process of unhooking your bra. 

“What can I say, baby. I told you I’d thought about this for a long time.”

or the one where ethan saves you from a creep after you lock yourself out of your dorm. or so you think.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, stalking, unprotected sex, dub-con, unsolicited pictures

masterlist | taglist | kinktober

Ethan hadn’t noticed you. At first. You’d had at least one class together every semester since freshman year, being in the same major and all, and yet it's taken him until now to take note of you. True, crude, unfiltered, awareness.

Sure, he’d known about you, the same way he knew about all the other girls on campus. He could match a face to a name and hold a casual conversation with you without feeling the need to ask the same three questions that always seem to be on the tip of everyone’s tongue. 

But now. Now, he knows you. He knows how you shift in your seat when you get called on to answer a question, despite the fact that you’d raised your hand in the first place, the lavender and mint of your shampoo that he could easily catch a whiff of if he leaned forward in his seat just ever so slightly, the way your skin prickles with goosebumps when you change into your pajamas after a shower–you should really learn to close your blinds, living on the second floor of your dorm complex and all. 

Your front door clicks shut before you think to check your pockets for your ID. 

“Shit,” you mumble as you jiggle the locked door handle. The only time you ever took it out of the pocket in your phone case was when you were trying to order something from the bookstore online and needed your student ID number, and, of course, you’d forgotten to stuff it back into the damn thing when you’d finished. 

“Locked out?” says a barely cognisant male voice from behind you. 

“Sorry?” you spit, spinning around in a huff in the wake of your disappointment. 

“Did you lock yourself out?” he asks again with a stifled laugh under his tone. You barely recognize the boy, only having stumbled past him once or twice in your haste to get back to your dorm to study. Figures that he’d end up being just across the hall from you. And much cuter up close. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you sputter, your immediate anger diffusing into slight annoyance. “Thought my ID was in my wallet, and as soon as I went to double check… you know.”

“Oh, yeah. Sucks when that happens,” he says. “‘S your roommate out?”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you have to remind yourself he’s just being polite. 

“She’s got class,” you swallow. He nods. You feel the need to elaborate. “O Chem.”

“You’ve got yourself a smarty pants on your hands, huh.” He steps closer and your breath hitches at the back of your throat. “Bet you’re smarter though.”

His mouth quirks as he boxes you in, back nearly pressed to the door of your room. “Oh, uh,” a dry chuckle. “I don’t know about that, she’s a pharmacy major and everything and all I do all day is learn about finances and the economy, so.”

Your neighbor had lost his sweet-boy charm in the few feet he’d breached, his jaw sharper and eyes darker in the fluorescence. 

“I’ve really gotta get going-”

“Without your key?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m meeting someone just downstairs and I can always just text my roommate to let me in later-” he cuts you off again. 

“I’m sure they can wait for a couple minutes,” he says. His aftershave burns your nostrils. 

“Look, I’m already running late-”

A voice you don’t recognize calls your name from down the hall. Your head snaps, alerted to the sound. Squinting your eyes, you try to identify your anonymous hero. 

“Hey,” the curly haired boy says as he approaches the two of you. “Are you ready to go yet? I tried texting when I got here, but I never got a response.”

“This is the friend you were waiting on?” the blond guy asks. He pulls his shoulders back, gaining back the inch he’d lost when he’d cornered you in. 

“Ethan,” the new boy sticks his hand out to shake the other guy’s hand, only to be met with a scoff as he shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Didn’t mention you were meeting up with your boyfriend,” he sneers. 

“First date,” you choke out with a dry throat, hoping that the notion of another guy in the picture would get him to leave you alone, and hating the fact that it was probably going to work. Ethan slides closer to you and you can feel your hands start to shake as the guy shakes his head in disappointment. 

“Whatever, man,” he says. He turns and scans into his room, leaving you to exhale a breath you’d been holding in tight. 

“He was interesting,” Ethan says, curls bouncing as spins to face you. 

Humming, you draw your lips together in a tight line. You watch as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other as you thumb the wallet on the back of your phone case, subconsciously counting the cards there only to remember why you’d been stuck out in the hall in the first place. 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks. 

“Well,” you start. “I was gonna go get some dinner, but with my ID being held hostage in my room…”

Ethan clears his throat before saying, “I, uh- I live on the next floor up if you wanted to hang out in my room until your roommate gets back.”

You’d think after the last guy had tried getting you into his place. 

“Yeah, you know what, sure. That’d be nice,” you shrug, offering him a tight lipped smile before he led you toward the open spiral stairwell in the complex that led to all of the floors. As the two of you make your short journey up the flight of stairs, Ethan can’t help but to ramble on about how he’d stumbled upon your predicament for the four minutes it takes to climb the stairs. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, swear to god, but he was just being so creepy, you know. I could hear him growling from the stairs,” he says once you reach the third floor. 

“No, I’m totally glad you were eavesdropping,” you laugh. Ethan holds his phone up to the door, unlocking it with the ID shoved into his wallet before holding it open for you to enter before him. 

“Chad’s at the Pike party right now, so make yourself comfortable wherever,” he says as he shrugs his zip-up off to toss over his desk chair leaving him in a black t-shirt hugging his biceps in a way that has you swallowing saliva. 

“Chad?” you ask. 

“My roommate.”

“Ah,” you hum, settling yourself in the middle of the room before Ethan pipes up again. 

“The left bed’s mine if you want to sit,” he offers. “Do you want something to drink?”

He’s got a plaid bedspread and probably navy sheets, but you climb up to sit on it nonetheless. 

“Sure, what you got?”

He lists off the few sodas they have, the case of Busch, and the single already opened bottle of water that’d been in there since they’d moved in. 

“I’ve got a case of seltzer in the fridge under my bed, too, if you want that,” he winces at his options. 

It’s a Friday night, what have you got to lose. “I’ll take a seltzer.” 

You try to ignore the way the hair on the back of your neck stands up as he moves closer, kneeling beside the bed to dig in the mini fridge stashed there. He comes back up with two cans in hand, extending one out for you to take from him. The can seems to condensate in the heat of your hand as soon as you grab it. 

Before you have a chance to pop the tab, Ethan climbs in beside you leaving a little less than a foot of distance between the two of you despite his twin being an XL. His knee bends until it knocks against yours with a soft sorry mumbled out but no attempt to move it. He opens his drink and haphazardly taps the top of it against your own unopened can with a, “Cheers.”

 “To?”

“Not being around that creep anymore?” he offers. 

Nodding, you open the can and tap it back against his, “Fucking cheers.”

Taking a sip, you wince. Your body had not been prepared for alcohol, and whatever seltzer he had sure tasted like a hell of a lot of it. It’s quiet for a while, the start of various questions and conversations settling on the tip of your tongue as try to quell the awkward silence that’s overtaken you. Ethan’s familiar in a way you’re not entirely sure how to grasp. Something about his presence has the back of your brain buzzing. When the can in your hand is nearly empty, you manage to get words out of your mouth. 

“Thanks for the help and everything, and really I mean, thank you, but how the fuck do you know me?” you finally settle on. “I mean you knew my name before you even came over and I just… you know?”

“We have stats together,” he says, stuttering and quirking the end of the statement into more a question than a declaration. Your brain seems to stutter for a second, trying and failing to place him. Until. 

“Right! Right, oh my god! You’re the cute guy that sits behind me,” you say seconds before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Cute?” he asks.

“Unfortunately, very.”

“What’s so unfortunate about my cuteness?” His eyes grow hazier, more lidded. He shifts closer forcing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. Tipping back the last of your drink, you crush the can out of habit and set it onto his nightstand. The already small counter space is cluttered with various trinkets and electronics before you can find a space to set your drink down. The polaroid camera catches your eye. 

“You have a polaroid?” you ask, leaning over further to snatch it off the edge and hold it up to your eye. He offers you a short hum in response. “What do you take pictures of?”

“I’ve got a specific muse,” he replies. 

“Care to share?” you ask as you lower the camera from your face only to find him much closer than you expected him to be. Closer than he had been just a moment ago, close enough to smell the cologne stuck to his shirt and see the faded pink of a scar against his jaw. He shakes his head slowly as he removes the camera from your limp fingers and places it back on the nightstand, tossing his own empty can onto the floor beside the bed. The way he leans forward has you leaning back. He leads you to drop your head back onto his pillow and your legs shift until you’re entirely situated beneath him. There’s still space between you, a couple inches at best, as his hands find solace beside your shoulders. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers and you feel your face heat up in response. 

“Thank you,” you reply, tongue dry. What was in the air tonight? You’d just been relieved from one guy trying to drag you into his bed only to be pushed into another. Still, with the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure this situation was entirely the same. 

“You’re welcome,” he sighs. You can feel the way his hand twitches and flexes at your side. 

You’re not sure who makes the first move after that. One moment you’re laying there, noses nearly touching as his breath fans over your face, and the next his lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth. The hand that had been fluttering at your side now pressed hard into your waist, thumb pushing up the fabric of your top until it met bare skin. 

His name is hazy in your head. You barely conjure it up, having to filter through a couple variations of Edward and Eric and Elliot before you manage out a weak gasp of, “Ethan” against his lips. 

His hand continues to push up until your shirt has been bunched up at your chest. He pulled back just enough to be able to look at his handiwork. Your heaved as the edges of his fingers worked up under the wire of your bra. The chill of his hand left goosebumps in its wake. 

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion as he lifts you just enough to get your shirt up over your head and to unclasp the back of your bra, leaving you bare beneath him. Not for long, though, as he sits up fully and reaches up to tug his own shirt over his head seconds after he’s got yours tossed down to the floor. 

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he groans, palms flat against your ribs. 

“You think about me?” you ask, head quirked to the side as you try not to trace his abs with your tongue. Who knew the cute nerd in your stats class had all of this going on for him. 

“All the fucking time,” he says. It’s a comment that should have you running for the hills, logically, coming from a guy you barely know. A guy you don’t know. But he’s already got you half-dressed and in his bed and you can’t bring yourself to pull away. 

You hook your fingers into the hem of his sweats only for him to cover them with his own as you tug them down his legs. You do your best not to gape at the size of him. God, you think, is there any part of him you don’t want to lick? It takes him a second of shuffling and kicking, but as soon as his pants hit the floor his hands are back on you. 

“Condom?” you gasp. His right hand trails down your chest, your stomach, and you think he’s going to stop at the band of your leggings, but it keeps going until you can feel him cupping against your clothed pussy. He nods absentmindedly. Your hips jump as soon as his thumb presses into your clit. Even with the dull pressure, it’s enough to send a shiver up your spine. 

“Condom, Ethan, please,” you whine. 

“Fuck,” he says as he pulls himself from his daze. “You don’t want me to…” 

“No, please,” you whimper. “Want you.”

He throws open the drawer in his nightstand, leaving the contents open as he grabs an unopened box. The box tears–practically in half–and the three rolls land on your stomach. 

“Do you want me to get that for you?” you ask with a giggle. 

“No, fuck, no. I got it,” he grumbles, tearing a single condom off and pushing the rest onto the pile of clothes you’d conjured together. 

“You sure?” His hands are shaking as he finally rips open the package, but they seem to steady once he’s got it rolled down onto his cock. 

As soon as he’s got it on, though, he’s ripping your leggings down your legs. His thumb finds your clit again, barely ghosting over it in slow, tight circles as his free hand lines his dick up with your slit. 

“Christ, you’re tight,” he groans, just barely notching the head. He pushes in slowly, jaw clenched, head dropped against your shoulder until he’s bottomed out. You nearly sob when you feel his pelvis press against yours. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this full in your life. You’re a little surprised he hadn’t ripped you in half, if you’re being honest with yourself. 

He bites down on your shoulder as you feel his hips begin to pull back. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby, fuck,” he says. Where his thumb had stalled movement–not that you’d been able to really notice–it picks back up again, harder this time. Your eyes roll back in your head as Ethan’s mumblings pick up. So pretty, so perfect, better than I had imagined. 

He’s already pulsing inside of you, twitching against your walls as he begins to pick up speed. His teeth nip at the sides of your neck, likely leaving marks you’ll have a hell of a time explaining to your roommate later, and his tongue laves at your pulse point. 

Heat begins to build in your belly. It’s faster than you expected, a symptom of the alcohol, you think. 

“Ethan,” you whimper. 

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, eyes screwed tight as his pace begins to stutter. 

“I’m so close.”

“Already? ‘Ve just started with you,” he sighs as if he wasn’t about to break skin on your neck. 

“Please, please, I’m so close,” you beg. 

“Oh, god,” he seethes. “I’m gonna cum.”

You bring a hand up to brush his curls away from his forehead and a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face. 

“I want you to cum first,” he says. “Before I- before I do.”

With the way he’s working, you don’t think you’ve got much of a choice. Nodding, you bring your hand down to rest at the back of his neck, tugging his face down so that your lips met. You don’t even have time to warn him before you’re clamping down on him, pussy fluttering as your orgasm washes over you and leaves you hazy. Ethan’s hips stall at one final push in and you can feel the heat of his cum through the latex. 

He pulls back, pressing one brief final peck to your lips before he leans back enough to remove his softening cock from you, the both of you wincing as he does so. He mumbles a soft, “I know” as he goes, rolling the condom off and tying the end to toss it in the trashcan beside the nightstand. 

With an elongated sigh, he drops himself onto the bed beside you leaving you to shiver in the new chill hitting your bare skin.

You’re not even trying to snoop as you look around at his nightstand, eyes naturally gliding over the still open drawer of junk when the stack of pictures shoved in the corner catch your eye. It takes a second to really see what it is as the polaroids are covered in a thick translucent goop, but you can’t help but pick them up when it clicks in your brain. 

“What the fuck are these?” you gasp, holding them up enough for Ethan to look at them. 

“What?” he asks, still loopy from his orgasm. 

“Your fucking muse? You ask. You shove the top photo directly in his face. It’s a picture of you in your underwear as seen through your bedroom window, hands in the process of unhooking your bra. 

“What can I say, baby. I told you I’d thought about this for a long time.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[finntheehumaneater]

for your domestic steddie: let's see that morning routine! who's up first, whos making breakfast, who's has the very persuasive argument to stay in bed?

This is like the opposite of their morning routine lmao. Steve always wakes up first and makes breakfast and then goes back to bed with Eddie for a while before he leaves for work :)

“Eds?” Steve muttered, sitting up in bed. He felt cold without Eddie pressed against his back, his face tucked into his neck, breathing against his skin. It was dark and his eyes were blurry with sleep, but he could just make out Eddie, his hair falling out of his bun as he pulled his jeans on.

“Go back to sleep, Steve,” he whispered, coming over to push Steve back down against the pillow, gently, with his jeans low on his hips and his shirt bunched up in his other hand.

“Eddie,” Steve whined, grabbing onto his wrist and trying to tug him back, his voice and arms still heavy with sleep. “Promised me we’d sleep in, remember?.”

“No, I promised you could sleep in, baby,” Eddie reminded gently, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head as he snaked his arms around Steve’s waist. “Because you hit your head last night so I said I’d make you breakfast today and you could relax.”

“Can’t relax if you’re out of bed,” Steve whispered, and he knew he sounded pathetic, but maybe if Eddie felt bad enough he’d curl up behind him again and he’d be able to go back to bed. It was hard to sleep once he had woken up if he was alone.

Eddie laughed into his hair, his breath warm. “Come and lay on the couch, then. I gotta get up anyway to make food for Wayne before he leaves for work. Might make some for Katie, too, because Wayne said she doesn’t eat in the mornings.”

God, he was so fucking nice, but Steve wasn’t going to let him off that easy. “You’re going to leave me alone? With a headache? Some boyfriend you are,” he muttered, trying to look pissed but crumbling in on himself and laughing when Eddie pinched at his side lightly, biting his shoulder.

“Be nice to me, Stevie.”

“You be nice to me,” Steve retorted, his hands finally getting a grip on Eddie’s a tugging them away with a stupid smile on his face, softening into something more personal and pleading when he saw how Eddie was looking at him—eyes all sad with his head tilted like he really thought Steve wasn’t okay. He worried too much for someone who’d been dealing with this for…what, seven years? Maybe more if you counted the time before they were dating.

“I’m fine,” Steve whispered, cupping Eddie’s face in his hands and pulling him down for a kiss, his back aching from having been bent so weirdly for so long in his sleep. “But five more minutes? I’ll help you make breakfast if you stay.”

“You drive a hard bargain, iubirea mea,” Eddie murmured, pressing a few kisses to Steve’s jaw that made Steve’s insides feel like sugary mush. “But of course, who am I to say no to such a pretty boy?”

Steve tugged him onto the mattress, and Eddie sat with his knees on either side of Steve’s hips, bent over to kiss his lips. It wasn’t exactly sleeping, but Steve wasn’t going to tell him to stop. 

“Never have to make breakfast again if you don’t want to,” Eddie whispered against his lips, one hand slipped under Steve’s shirt to trace the scarred-over tissue on his side. “I’ll wake up early all the time if you ask, promise.”

Steve bit back a smile, his fingers in Eddie’s hair, tugging gently. He’d help Eddie make breakfast soon anyways. Eddie would need the help.

MasterList for the domestic Steddie AU

Eddie speaking Romanian is bc of the headcannon I have for his mom, and I will gladly elaborate upon request so I don’t just spring a random ramble on y’all, lmao 🩵

#I listened to “Oklahoma Smokeshow” on repeat while writing this it’s such a good song #ALSO #steve’s headache came from the fact that he had a seizure the night before and hit his head when he fell #He’s fine though don’t worry #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steve x eddie #Wayne Munson #Finn writes #Finn’s DSAU #My fic #my writing

[nimue44]

something something loose lips sink ships

Whether it was a prod from the Force or simply the comlink’s incessant beeping, Obi-Wan was roused to half consciousness in the darkness of his quarters. While he would have preferred to remain asleep, snugly pinned in place by the arm his commander had wrapped around him, calls in the middle of the sleep cycle during a galactic war were unlikely to be ones he could willfully ignore. 

To preserve the only benefit of his newfound wakefulness — being able to indulge in the steady breathing and radiating warmth at his back — Obi-Wan pulled the comlink to him so as not to disturb what were sure to be the last few moments of Cody’s sleep. 

“This is Kenobi,” he said quietly.

(431 more words below the cut)

There was a longer pause than Obi-Wan would have expected given the urgency of a middle of the night call. 

“Of course, sir,” Crys replied through the comm. “Only, I was trying to reach Commander Cody.”

Oh. Kriff. Surely he could come up with some explanation for answering the wrong comlink. But then Cody stirred behind him, sliding his hand farther down Obi-Wan’s torso and tucking his head into Obi-Wan’s nape. Momentarily overwhelmed by sensation, all he could muster was, “I see, very odd.” 

“My apologies, sir, I must have entered the wrong code.” 

Obi-Wan silently cursed himself for making Crys feel he was in the wrong when it had been Obi-Wan’s mistake to pick up the wrong comlink. “It’s not a problem—” 

“What’s the message, Crys?” Cody grumbled, cutting off his apology and assuredly necessitating an even more elaborate explanation on Obi-Wan’s part. 

“Uh,” Crys said, hopefully not too distracted by trying to piece together what was happening on their end. “That special ops unit is on approach from Kashyyyk with, um, they said a pet? But it really sounds more like a large bug, sir.”   

Immediately, Obi-Wan’s interest outweighed any desire for decorum. “Like an insect?” he asked, perking up.

Not nearly as amused, Cody sighed, the warm burst of air tickling Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’ll meet them in the hangar bay. Send a couple nightwatch teams, too. And Crys?” 

“Yessir?” 

“Good soldiers keep their mouths shut.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

With the comm delivered, duty called. Like most mornings, Obi-Wan maneuvered in practiced coordination with Cody as they extracted themselves from the small bed. 

“Firm but fair,” Obi-Wan observed. Certainly a swifter approach to handling his misstep than whatever Obi-Wan was working towards have come up with. 

“I’m glad you approve of my leadership methods,” Cody wryly replied, pulling on his blacks. 

Obi-Wan snorted and, while picking up his own tunic, retrieved a hand guard that had ended up across the room. “Always, my dear,” he said, taking Cody’s palm in his and pressing the armor over the back of his gloved hand. 

Cody’s free hand rose to softly cup Obi-Wan’s cheek, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention. In one of their moments of shared understanding and purpose, both were drawn together for a soft press of lips and a kiss of foreheads before parting. 

“Now, would you like to go see this bug in our hangar?” Cody asked, flipping his helmet onto his head with a flourish.

“How do you always know exactly what to say to woo me, Cody?” Obi-Wan said, falling into step at Cody’s side as they began another day. 

#dumping ficlet onto tumblr so these scenes finally leave my brain #this scene took hold of me yesterday and now i release it into the world #codywan #let them be soft #because this got real fluffy

[alovelessmelancholy]

OMG LISTEN.

I THINK BOTH NIGHTTIME SCENES ARE REAL.

Update: HEY! I was totally wrong! But read this anyway if you want just for funsies😂

Someone said that one scene is Colin’s “do over” in a sense. (I heard this idea somewhere, I can't remember exactly but let me say that I’m not trying to steal anyone’s intellectual property or anything like that, just agreeing/elaborating on it). I think that’s absolutely what happens, but at the time Colin doesn’t realize it.

I think Pen is crying in the original scene we were given (sitting at her window thinking and then later when Colin discovers her in the garden) because Colin has continued to give her mixed signals (him watching her touch her mouth at the fair tent, telling her “don’t forget you’re Penelope Featherington”, all his longing looks and being his usual idiotic “I don’t know how hot I am being with Pen” self because he doesn’t realize that she secretly loves him. You know, just another Tuesday when Colin is around.)

ANYWAY, she is crying so he comes to console her and she decides then to let him go - what she was agonizing over while thinking at her window because she can’t come back from it if she decides to marry someone else. Colin likely (stupidly!) says something that solidifies her resolve to move on (“You can do it FRIEND, go find your husband!”)

SO she does just that, which means no kiss during this scene despite all the wishes that they would- me included .

Pen moves on while Colin is still helping her to dig his own hole to fall into, encouraging her to accept Debling's suit (DERP)

Colin finally comes to his senses and sees that he 💚LOVES PENELOPE FEATHERINGTON💚 for fuck sake (the beautiful symbolism with the candles OMG I love that but HURRY UP MAN your candle is LIT🕯). Listen to your mother and kiss your friend on the mouth.

By this time Debling may or may not have proposed, but based on Portia’s reaction about what a GOOD GIRL Pen is for landing a Lord as a potential husband, we should assume that all things are pointing in that direction. Colin has picked up on this too, and he has probably made attempts to end their attachment - maybe in some funny ways that make him look like a fool (yes please), maybe a few not so funny ways (he is STURDY now as if anyone could forget that fact but we'll hope he keeps his boxing gloves off - just for now.) 🔥 We DO know that Colin got visibly upset about Debling talking to Pen, so much so that he looked like wanted to do something about it.

SO now we come to the second nighttime scene where Colin put on the Regency Gentleman signal or whatever he had to do to get Pen to come into the garden. This is the do-over part, where he has been doing his own pining, thinking, CRYING (I cannot convey to you how much I love Teary-Eyed-Colin, he’s so gorgeous and vulnerable). He either shows up in tears and tells Pen he loves her, don’t marry Debling or he sees her crying and it makes him cry. She might confess that she was never going to marry Debling,”BECAUSE HE ISN'T YOU, COLIN.”🥺 I imagine her saying this and then…longing look number eight leads to a first kiss/extra-spicy encounter beyond just looks and hand touches. 🔥🔥

Maybe they break some patio furniture if we’re lucky.😏

UPDATE: Well I obviously had this all wrong! Ep2 confirmed REAL and a kiss ( just like RMB but outdoors 🥰) And the foggy one was. confirmed as a dream, so we can assume this is what wakes Colin up in a hot sweat 🥵

JUST LET ME HAVE THE SEASON.

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season three #romancing mister bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season 3 #pen x colin #penelope x colin #s3 speculation

[parkerpeter24]

the swim quotient

pairing ➳ swim instructor!peter parker x reader

w.c. ➳ 4.6k

summary ➳ peter’s your swim instructor and even though you want to keep a professional relationship with him, feelings– and your best friend– get in the way.

okay so this is supposed to be my birthday present to myself (even tho it was like a week ago so belated birthday, me) this fic could be read for mcu as well as tasm peter

“8 to 9 am is the time for kids. if you want one-on-one lessons, you need to come at 7 am.” the guy behind the desk told you that as he pushed down his glasses to get a better look at your face. you nodded and filled the form for one-on-one classes and paid the fees.

it would be just easier without all the humiliation, you thought, that’s why you chose to learn alone. it was a reasonable price even if it cost you a few more bucks than learning with the others.

“your trainer will be mr. parker.” he informed you and you thanked him, “you’ll find his number in the list outside.” exchanging smiles with the older man before you left the office of the community club. you checked out the list, clicking a picture of number under the name ‘peter parker’.

you hoped the guy wasn’t too harsh on you. you still remembered the time your dad taught you how to drive. just the thought of it made you wince. the constant jabs at your sanity and judgement, it all was just too much to handle. but you were hoping for the best now.

when your friend called you on your way back home, you told her about your idea of learning how to swim, “you know, i would have saved you in case you were drowning.”

you rolled your eyes but her comment made you chuckle, “what if you weren’t there?” you held the phone between your shoulder and ear as you fished for your keys in the tote bag you were carrying, “i’m a little nervous, what if this peter parker guy is horrible?”

“there’s a guy?” you could practically hear your friend’s raised eyebrow but you continued your ramble, not stopping for her to elaborate on her thoughts.

“you know, i don’t really trust any guy to teach me anything.” you entered your apartment, placing the keys in the keyholder and kicking off your shoes, “they’re just not that good at teaching.”

“maybe he’s a cute guy?” she chuckled at the other end.

“it won’t matter if he’s not a good guy!” you sighed, plopping down at your couch, your legs instinctively going up as you placed them one over the other on the couch.

“what if he’s a really good guy.” your friend could not have sounded more suggestive and you almost wanted to gag at that comment.

“gwendolyne.” as you’d guessed, a whine sounded from the other side of the phone. she hated when anyone called her, her full name.

“it’s gwen for you. anyway, just give it a try and if you don’t like his way of teaching, then you can just ask for another coach.” she said and you thought it over. she was right, you could always ask for a different person to teach you.

“thanks, gwen.” you smiled, “okay, i have to go now but i’ll call you later.”

the next day you were on your way to the community club pool and even though you had hated waking up at 6 am, you were also a little excited– and nervous– to experience something new.

you entered the facility, carrying your swimming costume and other equipment in your tote bag. as the swimming pool came into view, your eyes searched for your trainer– he has to be around here somewhere.

“excuse me, miss?” the voice came from behind and you turned to find the source. your mouth parted to say something but no words came out. if anyone else was in your place, you thought, they would have had the same reaction. a gorgeously tanned guy, brown mop of hair swept across his forehead in a way that was messy but as if on purpose. and oh, he was not wearing a t-shirt.

his swim trunks hung from his waist perfectly, carved abs and a chiselled torso above that. you were almost mesmerised by just one look of him.

“um… you’re (y/n), right?” you noticed his tinted cheeks and snapped yourself out of your daydream.

“that’s me.” you answer, standing up straighter, “you must be mr. parker?”

“oh, call me peter, please.” he smiled at you and you were bound to give him one back, “why don’t you go and change and we’ll get started.”

“yes.” you nodded, quickly making your way to one of the changing rooms. your mind was racing with thoughts as you changed into the swim gear. he seemed in his early twenties, very close to your age but finding him attractive felt against your morals. you were supposed to have a professional relationship with him and if he was a good teacher, you would just suppress your feelings deeper inside you than the depth of this swimming pool.

“all ready.” you said, walking out from the changing room only to find peter was already in the swimming pool, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he emerged out of the pool. he pushed his hair back, away from his forehead, as it sat perfectly over his head.

“hey!” peter gave you a smile as you walked to the side of the pool where the pool ladder was situated, “you excited for your first lesson?”

“a little nervous.” you chuckled, telling him the truth for some reason. you should probably trust the guy if he was going to be the one who pulled you out in case you were drowning.

“hey. no need for that.” his voice was comforting as you climbed down into the pool, the water level reaching your chest, “just breathe… while your head is above water.”

“what?” you couldn’t help but chuckle at his little quip.

“sorry, that was a silly joke. anyway, let’s start with holding our breath underwater, alright?”

“you’re the boss” you smiled.

“okay, i’m not the kind of person to be all like, ‘i told you so’ but i told you so!” gwen exclaimed before you even finished your sentence.

“i was going to say he’s a good teacher!” you were back at your apartment and it was after you had breakfast that you received a call from gwen.

“and?” she waited for you to go on as if she already knew.

“and… he was kind of cute.”

“i knew it!” she cheered and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her, “you should totally kiss him.”

“i- he doesn’t even like me! i want to keep it professional.” you had said it with an affirmative tone but you doubted your own voice.

“maybe tomorrow?” you groaned at that.

“you’re mad. bye.” you chuckled.

“maybe tomorrow you can make out in the-” that was the last you heard of your friend’s voice before you cut the call.

the next day you made it to the pool on time. there was no sign of peter and you didn’t know whether you should get in the pool or not. you waited, sitting patiently on the bench near the pool until you caught sight of peter. he was carrying a bunch of equipment almost too much for a single person to carry.

you rushed up to him, “hey.” you said. he smiled when he saw you.

“sorry, i’m late.”

you just shook your head at his apology and held out your arms, “need some help?” him handing you a few of the kickboards and a few goggles.

the two of you carried those to the store room and placed the certain items in their assigned boxes. peter checked the time on his phone once you both were done, “we only have 40 minutes left, why don’t you go change and we’ll start right where we left yesterday?”

you gave him a nod and quickly went to change into your swimming clothes.

once the two of you were inside the pool, peter told you to hold onto the wall, “i need you to relax your body and hold your breath for as long as you can.”

you nodded and slid your pair of goggles over your eyes before doing as he told you. estimatedly 30 seconds later, your head was out of the water as you released your breath, standing beside your instructor.

“good! that was good. almost three seconds more than yesterday.” he gave you a grin and you chuckled, “now what i want you to do is breathe out through your nose slowly while you’re underwater.” he explained.

again you did as he said, pulling yourself up every time you needed a breath.

“don’t push your limits.” peter said once after you had tried to hold your breath for longer than 35 seconds, “my arm is right here in case you need to hold onto something.” a blush appeared over his cheeks as he realised what that must’ve sounded like, “you know! i-in case you need help.”

maybe it was you, reading in between the lines, but the chuckle he let out made him sound kind of nervous. you were definitely not going to tell gwen about this.

over the next two days, you continued to practice breath holding underwater until peter proposed you move on to the next step. as soon as you entered the pool that day, it was the first thing he said.

“leave the wall?” you gave him a look of uncertainty, “are you sure i’m ready for that?”

peter nodded simply and held out his hands for you to take, “here, i’ll help you.” you took his hands but he could probably notice your nervousness– which he didn’t need to know was partly because both your hands were in his– and hesitancy as he said, “just trust me, okay?”

“i trust you.” you replied before his sentence was even finished.

he smiled, pulling you away from the edge of the pool slightly, “i won’t leave your hands until you’re completely ready.” he smiled and guided you to relax your body and let it float just like you had been doing up until now. this time, however, it was peter’s skilled hands that you were holding instead of the dull wall.

he walked back, pulling you along the surface of the body as you let yourself float against the water. It was only a few seconds in that you pulled yourself up from the water, holding tightly onto peter’s hands, “s-sorry, i-” you expected him to be frustrated or scold you for not doing better. but he didn’t do any of that.

“you okay?” he squeezed your hands gently, “did you accidentally breathe in water? it happens when you’re a beginner.”

“i’m okay. i just thought i was going down instead of floating.” you chuckled a little awkwardly.

“oh! that means that you need to push your head further down. if your head is down, your legs will automatically float close to the surface.” he explained, all the while holding your hands and you nodded, letting him know that you were listening to him even though you were zoning out, a fluttering heart in your chest as you outlined his slightly wet curls.

thankfully you had understood the basic points of what he was trying to explain to you which made your session go smoothly from that point.

when the two of you were out of the pool and the kids had started filling in, you walked over to peter, who was standing with another guy and talking to him.

when you reached the two men chatting over whatever they were chatting over. the other guy nudged peter’s side with his elbow, giving him a smirk as soon as you reached there. He quickly turned, eyes slightly wide, “oh. hey (y/n)!” he seemed nervous again but the other guy cleared his throat before you could say anything, “right! (y/n), this is my friend ned. ned, (y/n).”

ned leeds. you’d read his name on the list of employees outside the community club office, just below peter’s name.

“i’ve heard a lot about you, (y/n).” ned gave you a smile, extending his hand for a handshake.

“oh?” you looked over at peter, shaking ned’s hand, but the brunette’s head was already turned towards his friend in what you could only assume a warning. it made you chuckle, “i teach the kids.” ned gave you a smile and you could tell why he was the one assigned to teach the kids. he seemed like the kind of person who was good at making people around him comfortable just with his presence.

“you wanted to say something?” peter was the one to ask after ned parted ways with the two of you to look after all the kids– there were way too many.

“i just wanted to ask whether i did well today…” you gave him a little smile.

“oh, you’re a natural.” he grinned back, “i was impressed!”

“yeah?” you asked, not really believing his words, even though a warmth covered your whole body. you felt a deep sense of accomplishment and the smile on your face increased tenfold.

“yeah.” he confirmed, a smile covering his own face.

“thank you.” you smiled, eyes staring into his beautiful brown ones, “you look nicer when i’m not wearing the goggles.”

peter looked at you, “w-what?”

was that a nervous ‘what’ or a disgusted ‘what’? god, had you messed up already? how could you have said that out loud? it was probably one of those stupid moments of confidence boost where you ended up telling an answer to the whole class in a very firm voice only to be told it was wrong.

you gave him a pursed smile, “uh.. i should get going. see you then.”

the look of stun was still written all over his face as you turned to leave, but you didn’t give him a chance to say something. you weren’t ready to face rejection from a guy you hadn’t even asked out. not that you were thinking about asking him out. for all you cared, you didn’t care at all.

you felt a small splash of water on your leg, wetting your jogging shoes. you let out an offended, “hey!” before you noticed the little girl leaning against the wall of the pool. you raised your eyebrows at her as she beckoned you closer with her little hand. you leaned forward in a squat position in front of her to let her say whatever it was she wanted, “hey kid, is everything alright?”

“i’m cassie.” she introduced herself before asking, “is he your boyfriend?”

even though peter could not be seen around anymore, you were certain whom she was referring to.

you chuckled and shook your head, “oh, no. he’s not my boyfriend.” yet you wanted to add but somehow refrained yourself from doing so.

“i think he is cute.” she gave you a challenging look, making you chuckle at her adorableness.

“hey, i’ll back off if you like him.” you promised, giving her a finger gun. she shrugged.

“if you really like him then, i can let you have him.” she said, her elbows holding onto the pavement that was beneath your feet.

“oh, really? that’s very sweet of you, cassie.” you smiled at her.

“but you have to buy me ice-cream.” she grinned before quickly turning away and swimming away at the sight of ned walking towards that side of the pool.

it was raining heavily the next day. you thought to call peter before going to the pool unannounced in case it was closed. you called him once at 6:23 am but his phone was busy. who could he be talking to this early in the morning?

he called you back at 6:24. you picked up after counting to five, not wanting to seem too desperate, “hello?”

“hey, (y/n).” you could hear the small smile he was holding on the other end, making you think if he had forgiven you for what you blurted out yesterday, “what’s up?”

“hey... peter, it’s raining pretty heavily, are you going to the swimming pool today?”

“oh, i’m already in! but i understand if you can’t make it today.” he stated and you nodded, realising after a moment that he couldn’t see you.

“yeah, i can’t today… and tomorrow’s sunday so i guess i’ll see you monday?” you asked.

“sounds good!” he said.

you held the phone close to your ears, not really knowing what else to say. you couldn’t think of anything as you silently heard all the background commotion on his end. he didn’t say anything either and for a moment the thought that he didn’t want to end the call either crossed your mind.

but you pushed that out of your head.

“i’m sorry about yesterday.” you finally spoke, “i shouldn’t say that to-”

“i appreciated it… it just came as a surprise.” he chuckled, “and you left too quickly.”

you couldn’t help the smile that covered your face after hearing his comment, “sorry about that.”

“hey, stop apologising already. maybe i can give you a compliment next time so that we’re even.”

it was your turn now to fall silent. your heart skipped three beats at once as he said that. despite that, you found yourself smiling, “sure, i don’t see why not.”

there was another beat of silence but peter decided to break it before it could get uncomfortable, “so, you busy?”

and so the conversation continued. you told him you were just looking out to the street where small water puddles had already formed. you told him that you loved the rain. he told you that he hated it since the time it rained so much on his birthday that he was stuck at school for five straight hours until his uncle ben came to pick him up.

it was almost an hour later when you had to excuse yourself from peter as your doorbell rang.

“i’ll see you monday!” he said before hanging up and you quickly made your way towards the door. whoever it was had rung the doorbell twenty times in five seconds.

so probably gwen.

“i cannot believe this!” was the first thing she said as she welcomed herself into your house. no ‘hello’s or ‘how are you’s, “a car went right past me and almost stained my lab coat!”

“um... good morning to you too?” you chuckled, watching her get comfortable over your couch as she removed her shoes. she was clearly going through a rough week, “what’s wrong?”

you sat over the couch and her head immediately rested on your lap, “i can’t smell any more chemicals. my brain will explode.” she complained as you ran your hand through her hair.

“you were at the lab all night again?”

“slept on the couch” she sighed and relaxed further, feeling your fingers thread through her hair comfortingly.

“maybe you should slee-”

“coffee.” she mumbled, “i need some coffee.”

getting up from the couch, she made her way into the familiar kitchen, the white tiles reflecting enough light for her to wince and squint her eyes.

“are you sure you should have coffee right now?” you asked, leaning against the counter as she pulled out her favourite coffee mug from your cupboard.

“yes.”

soon the two of you settled back onto the couch, this time with your respective coffee mugs as you talked about her work. then gwen decided to shift the conversation to you, “so how’s swimming going?”

“it’s alright.” you tried to hold back your smile but gwen kept staring at you, making you break out laughing.

“and how’s your sexy trainer?” she took a sip from her coffee unbothered whereas you almost choked on yours, coughing slightly, “come on, you can tell me.” she pushed a little.

“he’s alright.” you replied, trying to sound disinterested but who were you fooling. gwen knew you better than that.

“so, when are you asking him out?” once again you almost spat your coffee out, deciding to place the coffee mug on the coaster at your coffee table for good.

“okay, you need to stop. we’re just friends. he’s supposed to be my trainer, that’s all.” you rambled out and gwen gave you a look that told you to cut through all the bullshit, “and i like him.” you whined, falling against the armrest of your couch.

“ask. him. out.” your best friend said, emphasizing on each of her word.

“he doesn’t even-”

“how do you know! have you ever tried… oh, i don’t know, asking him out?”

you rolled your eyes at her stubbornness. it was a trait you simultaneously loved and hated about her, “i’m not doing that.”

“ask him out.”

“what if he has a girlf-”

“ask him out and he’ll tell you.”

“but what if he doesn’t want to-”

“ask him out!”

“gosh! gwen i can’t.” you shook your head, mostly to yourself.

“(y/n). come on. ask him out before someone else does.” gwen said, a soft look etched over her features despite being deeply sleep-deprived, “have faith in yourself.” she smiled

“i-i’ll see…” you gave her a smile back, feeling an ounce of confidence, “maybe i will ask him out.”

“now that’s my girl!” gwen grinned and threw her arms around you.

you spent your sunday taking gwen out to dinner and then shopping because she deserved the break and you knew the second monday’s first minute illuminated on the digital clock beside her bed, she would start worrying about working her ass off on her new project.

and you were right as she called you just as you were about to leave your house for your swimming class, complaining about the horrible coffee in the lab, “i would have picked up some on my way here but it was too early.” she groaned.

“maybe i can bring some over after swimming today?” you offered, locking the door to your apartment and throwing the keys into your bag.

“unless you’re too busy with your peter guy?” gwen snorted at the groan you let out at her comment, “you’re asking him out today.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah.” you dismissed and quickly added, “and i’m never too busy for you, you know that.”

“i know.” she said, making you smile. the two of you bid each other a goodbye once she had to get back to work.

you found peter sitting in the same spot you had waited for him that day as soon as you reached the pool. you quickly changed and walked back out, noticing that he was still busy scrolling through his phone. walking up to him, you tried to not look into his phone as he texted someone, “watcha doing?”

he jumped at your question, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes, “oh. you scared the crap out of me.” he chuckled, registering that you had asked him a question, “i was just texting my aunt… about groceries and stuff.”

“oh.” you said, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape.

“so, you ready?” he asked and you nodded.

You climbed down the stairs of the pool ladder until your feet touched the tiled floor. Peter jumped in after you.

“i think it’s time we started kicking.” was the first thing he said, “i’ll show you how it’s done then you can do it too.” you nodded and watched as he dived inside, kicking the water with his legs as he slowly moved forward, leaving behind small splashes in his wake.

swimming back towards you quickly, he wiped back his hair from his forehead and you somehow forced yourself to not lend him a hand, “your turn!”

you gave him a smile, breaking out of your chain of thoughts, “okay then.” taking a deep breath you got ready to go underwater but peter’s hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you. you looked at him this time with slightly widened eyes, “uh…?”

“you’re not wearing your glasses.” he laughed and this time you were pretty sure that he seemed nervous as he held onto your wrist.

“oh.” you realised and pfft-ed at yourself, “silly me.”

he released your hand then but before you could do anything to adjust your goggles, his hands went up, fingers grabbing at the edge of the eyewear, gently propping it over your eyes carefully, “that okay?”

you weren’t quite sure if you’d noticed right but just before the glasses covered your eyes, a tint of pink covered his cheeks. or it could have been just your rose tinted goggles. damn uv protection.

“o-oh. yep.” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up. he smiled sweetly at you and you almost wanted to grab his pretty face right there and kiss over those upturned lips of his. but you couldn’t. not like this.

“you okay?” he asked, looking slightly concerned but you quickly nodded, not feeding into his worries.

“yeah.” you dived in then, keeping your hands straight as you kicked your legs up and down. you remembered his advice for keeping your head low and you applied that. almost thirty to forty seconds later, you resurfaced and took a deep breath, “was that alright?”

“yeah! that was good for a first try!” he gave you an encouraging smile, “just let your waist move freely.”

“how?” you asked, a little confused.

“is it okay if i place my hands on your waist?” the question made you cough even though you were several inches away from water. peter’s hands raised in defence, “i don’t need to-”

“no, it’s fine!” you blurted out, feeling on fire which even the water surrounding you couldn’t put out, “you can.”

“okay, just do what you were doing, i’ll guide you.” he said, seeming as nervous as you were feeling.

you did as told and this time peter’s hands placed themselves on either side of your waist as you started kicking. he helped you with the movement, moving your waist a little in tandem with your legs.

after the hour was finally up and you had changed into your regular clothes, you found peter talking to ned and contemplated going up to him for all of fifteen seconds before deciding to go up to him.

you waited until ned was gone and walked in his direction, “peter?”

he immediately looked in your direction, “oh, hey… you’re leaving?”

“yeah. well, i actually… i needed to talk to you about something.” your heart was going to jump out of your chest. you couldn’t even meet his eyes, your gaze fixed upon the dusky floor.

“what is it, (y/n)?” you could feel his curious eyes over yourself.

“well, i… it’s kinda…” you waved your hands around, trying to find the right words to say until he disrupted you mid-sentence.

“is it about that compliment i owe you?” he said, letting out a small laugh. he was probably trying to lighten the mood but this was not helping your situation, “well, i’d say you’re really-”

“i kinda like you-” you shut yourself up after that, looking up to see his reaction. his face changed from one of shock to a confused one.

“wait, you-”

“i thought i would keep a professional relationship with you. but i… you’re just really pretty and it’s unfair!” you complained, not holding back now. this was your last chance. you considered he might not want you around here anymore.

“how is it unfair, exactly?” you looked up at him to catch his raised eyebrows, however, a small smile played over his lips.

“well, for starters i wish you would go out with me. but that’s-”

“yes.”

“what?” you were sure you looked like a raccoon caught red-handed stealing food.

“i wanna go out with you. afterall i do owe you a compliment.” he smiled, making you smile too.

“i might owe a little girl an ice-cream.”

———

masterlist ✨

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker #mcu peter parker #tasm! #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter fluff #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

parts one two three

———

The first emotion Keith feels, immediately upon waking, is intense dread.

And if that doesn’t sum up the day he’s about to have. Fuck’s sake.

He already feels pretty guilty about yesterday. Besides the fact that Lance is his right hand man — they’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and Keith definitely didn’t have Lance’s, because even though Lance wasn’t in the right he wasn’t in the wrong either — and they’re supposed to be leading this as a team, Keith knows part of the reason things fell apart so quickly is because he didn’t talk to Lance last night. He probably couldn’t’ve convinced Lance to kill the beast, obviously, but they could have definitely explored some different angles together. By letting things fester, Keith pretty much ensured that Lance was going to come up with some elaborate, dangerous scheme that was going to cost them an alliance, and worse, possibly get Lance hurt or killed. (Lance had a good track record with dangerous animals, sure, but this is a beast. The thing sounded like a mix between a polar bear and a dragon. There’s only so much Lance can do, uncanny abilities or not.)

But what’s done is done. Keith can’t very well redo yesterday and make Lance un-mad at him and everyone else, so he’ll have to make do with what he’s got.

And what he’s got is first shift on make-sure-Lance-doesn’t-mutiny-duty.

Fuck, Keith thinks as he makes his way out of his room, this is going to be the Actual Worst.

As usual, Keith is one of the first people on the bridge. Unusually, Lance is next. (Usually he is last, and also late).

“Hey, Lance,” Keith says, trying to muster up a smile.

Surprisingly, Lance beams right back. “Hello, Numb — uh,” his smile falters. “I mean, hi there, Mullet.”

Keith slumps. “I’m still Mullet, huh.”

Lance nods.

“You reckon I’ll work my way back up to Keith, soon? I’ll do anything, you know I will. I’ll even try your horrible face mask with you.”

To his further surprise — Lance must have actually slept well, or something — Lance smiles again, and this time it’s soft even to Keith’s eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

“I’d do anything for you,” Keith says, and it’s more than he means to.

Lance frowns, and Keith’s heart sinks for the millionth time in just a few hours.

“Except help me save an innocent animal’s life,” he says, and there’s nothing Keith can say to that.

They sit in tense silence until the rest of the paladins arrive.

Shiro counts them once they do, like they’re kindergarteners and he’s a very tired EA, and furrows his brow when he finishes.

“Six. Including me. Who are we — where’s Coran?”

“He said he’ll be here in a few dobashes,” Lance says. “A calibrator broke down in the control room somewhere — nothing urgent, but he wants to get it fixed to get it out of the way. He’ll be back before we’re gone long.”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Lance,” Allura says, transparently trying to ease the tense line of his shoulders, a little.

It does not work. Lance sets his jaw and looks away.

Allura sighs. “I’m sorry, Lance,” she tries. “I know this is hard for you. If it were possible, and we had more time, we’d find another way.”

“Whatever.”

Keith decides that enough is probably enough. Allura and Shiro look genuinely dejected and apologetic, and both Pidge and Hunk look upset.

“Look, Lance, this situation sucks for everyone, okay? It sucks. We’re going to do what we can. If we get to the situation in question and we can actually manage to fix things without killing the beast, then that’s what we’ll do, okay? We’ll do our best.”

Lance exhales, shoulders slumping. He looks… guilty, and his guilt certainly does nothing to appease Keith’s.

“Sorry,” Lance mutters. “I know this is hard for everyone.”

Keith swallows the lump in his throat. He genuinely can’t remember the last time a non-major battle mission sucked so unequivocally for everyone involved, but Jesus Christ.

“Let’s just go,” he says, and everyone nods before following him off the castle and to the wet, humid heat of the planet.

———

part four

#coran is not good at pretending to be lance 💀 #also this one is short i was tempted to post two parts in one but No we shall prevail #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #pining keith #whipped keith #langst #klangst #team as family #lance is good with animals #black paladin keith #red paladin lance #keith is Trying #lance is a disney princess #my writing #longpost

[zaimta]

Hi. I hope you are doing well. I wanted to request Law with the event prompt "hey, hey, it’s okay. it was just a bad dream. i’m here." please? I am not sure exactly what I want, but whatever it is will be amazing! Thank you!

zai says: funny story that event was a year ago lol, but imma do it anyways bc i got a fire idea for law. i got a request like that one n imma still do it so i got both of y’all. inspired by the prompt i didn’t use it just a lil fyi

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

cora.

you seemed to hear that name more and more as your relationship with law progressed. truthfully you knew so little about that man but at the same time so much. you had an image of what he looked like according to law, you knew that he didn’t like bread and you suspect that’s the same reason why law doesn’t like it too but most of all you know the importance of cora or corazon to him.

as time passed you also learned about the scar corazon’s passing left on his heart.

law tossed and turned in his sleep. his nightmares were all too common but each night they seemed to become reality as if he was reliving the moment of his death repeatedly.

“cora…cora!” he quickly sat up in a cold sweat screaming for corazon. he ran a hand through his hair trying to catch his breath.

“dammit” he quietly cursed to himself.

“law?” you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. he felt terrible for waking you up again, it’s just a dream he’ll get over it.

“i’m fine y/n go back to sleep.”

you sighed “no you’re not. you’re sweating buckets. was it that dream again?”

he sighed as well and only nodded, he hated how you knew him in and out sometimes.

“it was about cora.” he looks down at his palm.

clearly he wasn’t going to elaborate more whatever he saw took a toll on him and you weren’t going to force it out of him.

“how about we play some cards? you know to get your mind off things trust me you’ll be thinkin about something else when you lose”

“that sounds- wait. when ‘i’ lose? don’t you mean you?” he raises a brow at you.

“i said what i said, hun”

#one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalagar law x you #law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece fluff #law fluff #trafalgar law fluff

[chirp-a-chirp]

Clavis Lelouch • Clavis x Emma • Tags: Fluff; Crack; Pranks; Mischief; Cat-puns • Word Count: ~1900 • Triggers: None • Brief appearances by Chevalier, Cyran, and Sariel

Title: Cat-astrophe

Description: It’s Clavis. Of course there’s chaos! This time, in feline form 😸

For @katriniac as a part of the Ikemen Prince Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @saeyoungs-sunflower 😊

Cat-inspired Clavis drawing (aka Catvis) done by @aide-falls

…

“This doesn’t look like a good idea.”

“You’re right, my dear. It’s a perfectly wicked one!” Clavis flicked a finger at the glass bottle he was holding. The bottle contained a light purple liquid that bubbled and fizzled like champagne. It appeared benign, even pleasant looking, until one looked directly above at the ceiling and the soot that covered it. Emma opened a window to let out the plumes of smoke that lingered.

“Most liquids don’t spontaneously burst into flames.” Emma coughed pointedly, moving her hands in a fanning motion to push the smoke outside.

“Unless Licht is cooking, haha!”

“Will you tell me what it is you’re trying to make at least?”

Clavis put down the bottle. “And where would the fun in that be?” He smirked, a look of utter delight on his face. “I DO have the antidote to this—well, most of it.” Clavis gestured to a second glass bottle with a light bluish tint to it. Emma’s eyes widened.

“Could it be that my lovely lover is worried for me?” Clavis tweaked Emma’s nose playfully. “It’s not as if this liquid will make me disappear or anything!” His eyes flashed, with a hint of challenge to them. “And even if it did, I’m sure you’d find me.”

…

The next day, Clavis was gone.

His disappearance had not been noticed until late morning, when a terrified palace butler was forced to wake up Chevalier instead of Clavis. None of the princes seemed particularly bothered at this development. As Emma made inquiries, their reactions were varied—relief from Yves (Licht and I can have a tea party uninterrupted!); mockery laced with pity from Nokto (you’re getting a day off from him; isn’t that a good thing?); and the equivalent of a princely shrug from Leon (I haven’t seen smoke since yesterday, so I’m sure he’s fine.). But, they all agreed on one thing—they hadn’t seen Clavis.

Emma entered Chevalier’s private library hoping he’d know what was going on. She placed a rare romance book from Jade on a side table near where Chevalier sat reading. There was an approving nod as elegant fingers picked up the book. He offered a rather unusual hint.

“My fool of a brother lost one of his nine lives today.”

Emma tilted her head. “Can you elaborate on that?”

“Do you have the next installment of this book?”

“It won’t be published until next month!”

“Then our conversation ends now, Simpleton.” The corner of Chevalier’s mouth lifted as he placed the book in his lap. As Emma left the room, she heard Chevalier say one more thing.

“He’s not complicated. He needs something from you, but cannot bring himself to admit it.”

Chevalier’s words echoed in Emma’s head as she headed toward Clavis’ bedroom. She took out a key from her dress pocket, heart lurching at the breach of privacy.

The room was virtually the same as it was when she was with Clavis yesterday. Emma knew he saw this place as a shrine to his failures, a testament to mediocrity. But, she saw much more—it was a place of studiousness, ingenuity, and childish delight. Books on law, pharmacology, science, and philosophy were neatly arranged on his bookshelf. One of the middle shelves held a cup with the phrase #1 worst emblazoned on it—a gag gift Emma had bought Clavis when they first became a couple. She grabbed a book at random and noted with a smile that the book was highlighted in numerous colors, with notes in the margins about various herbs that could be used for different smoke traps.

Emma placed the book back on the shelf and glanced at various pieces of paper attached to the wall above his writing desk. The papers contained lists with the number of traps discovered by other people. Various palace staff and princes had tick marks next to their names, each tick mark indicating a trap they had fallen into. Yves encompassed one entire sheet of paper by himself, and to Emma’s surprise, Chevalier had one mark next to his name. She’d have to ask Clavis about THAT story.

But Emma had to find him first. She sat at his desk chair, feeling lonely. She looked down at her hands—Clavis had held her hand so often in their adventures; she now felt empty without it.

I know you feel like you’re not enough Clavis. But you are. Where are you?

“Meow?”

Emma turned her head at the sound. A beautiful long-haired cat emerged from behind Clavis’ couch. Its paws, the tip of its tail, and its chest were light grey while the rest of its body was purple. The cat’s eyes were golden and sparkling with mischief.

“Are you lost little one?” The cat jumped in Emma’s lap, nesting between her thighs as if it thought it belonged there. “You’re not the only one who likes that spot. Though your touch is gentler.” Emma chuckled, scratching the cat behind its ears. She then noticed the cat wore a dark purple necktie that looked remarkably familiar. Embedded in the center of the necktie was a tag containing a name—Catvis.

Catvis leaped onto the desk, its tail bristling (Emma corrected herself…the cat was decidedly male). He pushed a drawer open with a paw and fished out a gold-chained necklace with his teeth. The necklace held two golden medallions—one reading “Catvis” and the other “Accomplice”. Emma swore she saw the cat smirk as he dropped the necklace in her lap.

A notion so absurd it bordered on ludicrous flitted into Emma’s head. She reached out her hand and patted the cat on his head. “Clavis, is that you?”

The cat practically pranced with joy. He head butted Emma’s hand, leaning into her touch, before jumping deftly onto her lap again, exposing his belly.

Emma shook her head in disbelief. “The things you do for attention are ridiculous Clavis.” The cat nipped Emma’s finger, causing her to pull her hand away. “Oh, excuse me. Do you prefer to be called Catvis while in this form?” Emma’s words were dripping in sarcasm, but the cat purred contently and licked the finger he bit.

Emma recalled the pharmacology book she glanced at earlier. “You were working on a polymorph potion, weren’t you?” Catvis beamed and extended his body so that he was standing on Emma’s lap, his front paws on her shoulders. He rubbed both sides of her cheeks affectionately.

“You really are ridiculous. Ridiculously amazing.” Catvis blinked, not expecting to hear that. “A polymorph potion has never been successfully made until now. A mere Chevalier would not—could not—think to do this.” Emma blushed at her words—expressing her honest feelings was easier with him in this form.

Catvis nuzzled against Emma’s face. He craved this attention, this affirmation. Needed it. Emma’s heart trembled at the realization. She held him in that standing pose in her lap for a while, letting her guard down. After a while, her eyes drifted to the bottle of blue liquid Clavis mentioned yesterday on a table. “We have to change you back eventually, you know. What ingredient is missing from your antidote?”

Catvis jumped back on the desk, finding a pen and fitting it into his mouth. With his head at an incredibly awkward angle, he wrote out two words on a piece of paper: Black rawhide.

“Wow, I can READ this!” Apparently, Clavis’ eighth wonder was legible handwriting without opposable thumbs. “There’s no rawhide here, so we’ll have to look for it. Come here, let me carry you as we search for some.”

Catvis went back to Emma’s lap, his head pushing the necklace into her hand. “I am NOT wearing a cat collar.” Catvis pouted. Emma felt a pang of guilt at his expression. “Well, maybe just this ONCE.”

A few moments later, Emma came out of the bedroom, with Catvis perched on her shoulders. As Emma walked down the palace stairs, she spied a familiar plume of fiery red hair.

“My Lady!” Cyran ran to Emma. “What news of our missing charge?”

“You’re not going to believe this.”

“Try me. Nothing about him surprises me anyone.”

“You MAY want to reconsider that statement.” Emma turned her shoulder and gestured to Catvis.

“I didn’t know you owned a cat.” Cyran sniffed loudly.

“WE own a cat. A very naughty one at that.” Emma smirked and bopped Catvis on his nose.

AAAAAAA-CHO!

“I’m highly allergic to cats. Especially naughty ones.” Cyran’s eyes watered. “So, no, I do NOT own a cat.”

Emma gestured to the “Catvis” button on her feline companion. “Actually, we do. Clavis created a polymorph potion and here are the results of THAT.” Catvis grinned broadly—it was a grin Cyran knew all too well.

Catvis’ ears twitched at a sound down a nearby hallway. He jumped off of Emma’s shoulders and sprinted away.

“Catvis, wait!” Emma began running after him, but Cyran erupted into a violent coughing fit, one so strong it made his cheeks blaze as red as his hair. A maid was tasked with fetching him a glass of water as Emma slapped his back.

“I-I’m fine!” Cyran collected his breath. “Were you serious when you said that cat was—“ A shriek from the maid carrying Cyran’s water interrupted the conversation. A furry purple and grey blur darted past her. Catvis ran up the stairs, carrying a black rawhide whip in his mouth. The whip crackled in the air as Catvis flew past Emma and Cyran. Sariel came bounding from the hallway, violet eyes narrowed with rage. “It is enough to have one Hellcat among us. I did not think we had a second living in the palace.”

Emma looked apologetically at Cyran, her hand pointing at Sariel. “Cyran, can you handle this?”

“I…do not get paid enough for these shenanigans, My Lady.” AAAAAAA-CHO!

“At least you get paid.”

…

With a piece of Sariel’s whip, the antidote was now complete and consumed by Catvis (he lapped the potion from Emma’s #1 worst cup). The antidote would take a few hours to be effective, so Emma laid down on Clavis’ couch, a blanket covering her legs and Catvis perched in his proper spot—between Emma’s thighs.

Emma couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have done so, for she woke up to the pre-dawn hours to a heavier weight on her body and something touching her face. Emma’s eyes slowly opened as she felt an arm—a human arm!—encircle her waist, and roaming hands caressing over her clothes.

“Ah, you’re awake my lovely lover. How wonderful.” Alluring golden eyes shone brightly in the darkened room as Clavis’ lips traced a trail down Emma’s neck.

“Hmmm,” Emma’s fingers carded through Clavis’ hair.

“Are you so delighted you’re at a loss for words? Cat got your tongue?” There was a purr to his voice as Clavis leaned forward and presented a cheek to be kissed.

A cheek was not enough. Emma pulled Clavis down for a kiss, her lips capturing his. “You’re an absolute cat-astrophe, darling.” As she pulled away, Emma’s quiet laughter tickled Clavis’ ear.

“But you’re my cat-astrophe. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#clavis lelouch #ikemen prince clavis #ikemen prince #ikemen prince chevalier #ikemen prince sariel #cyran rose #otome fanfic #ikepri #ikepri fanfic #fanfic fluff

[wrathofrats]

16 for the angst prompts pleasee (maybe mountain dew?)

-☀️🌙

… I’m so sorry

This turned into 1.2k words of me deep diving into dew’s insecurities. Y’all keep telling me to hurt that fire ghoul and I sadly have more than enough to deliver.

Hope you enjoy!

“He’s just been extra sensitive recently.”

It sounds like rain from what dew can make out through the door.

“I know. He’s just been harsh.”

That was definitely mountain. Were they talking about him?

“I don’t think he means it. Just been rough for him”

“Yeah but it’s getting hard to be around. He’s been mean rain, more than he usually is”

Usually is?

“I know. I’ll talk to him. He’s just in a funk I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re not the problem, dew needs to figure himself out”

So they were talking about him.

“I agree, trust me. Just cut him some slack ok?”

“Fine”

He hears the doorknob turn and he quickly darts in the direction of his own room.

Had he really been that badly recently? Sure he’s usually blunt and likes to mess around, but *mean*? Has he really been mean to everyone? To mountain?

The questions race through his head as he sits on the ground in his room. He doesn’t try to be mean. He doesn’t try to hurt anyone, the thought of being genuinely malicious to those he loves makes him feel sick. He knows no matter how much guilt he may feel or whatever his intentions actually were, they don’t excuse the effect they’ve apparently had.

He tries to suck it up and stop wallowing in his own pity. He wants to make it up to mountain, and whoever else is thinking the same thing as him, because surely everyone else is right? Dew doesn’t feel right with himself.

He starts with the greenhouse. He brings up the fresh mulch from storage that mountains been talking about needing to retrieve, and quickly refills his watering can before mountain comes to start his work.

“Droplet, did you do this?” Mountain asks. Dew doesn’t like the tone of confusion in his voice, like he would never expect dew of all people to help out. But he nods anyways and retreats back to his room.

The next day dew makes mountain his coffee alongside is. Wakes up 15 minutes early to be able to beat him downstairs.

“I made you coffee since I was awake, just how I know you like it.” Dew offers him a nonchalant smile. He tries hard to not seem like he’s going out of his way to be so kind. He hopes that the others will maybe just think he’s finally changed his ways, become better.

“Dew, can I ask if something’s wrong” mountain stares down into his coffee in confusion.

“What? No. Nothings wrong with your coffee. It’s just a kind gesture” dew rolls his eyes. Mountain didn’t think this was some elaborate prank did he?

“No, is there something wrong with you droplet” mountains eyes held genuine concern.

“Why would there be?”

Mountain doesn’t know how to phrase it. Doesn’t like the weight of the words on his tongue, but tries to say them anyways.

“You’ve just been … overly kind recently. Did something happen? I just want to know if you’re alright”

The slam of dews ceramic coffee cup echos off of the kitchen walls. He knew this would happen, he should’ve expected it.

“Why do you think something’s wrong with me when I’m nice? You wanted me to be nicer and now something’s wrong with me?” His voice is higher than he wants it to be.

“Dew no, that’s not what I meant-“

“I heard what you told rain. I’m sorry I just wanted to do better for you” he doesn’t want to cry. He is anyways. He again prayed that mountain would just take his kindness and forgive him and they could move on but he’s never had that kind of good luck before, why would he now?

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was frustrated and was venting and I never wanted you to hear that.”

Dew hiccups around his words. He’s embarrassed, never likes to show this much emotion. He’s always been the emotional one and he hates it more than words can ever describe.

“But you said it for a reason. Just let me change. I just want you all to love me I’ll change I’m sorry I’ll do better” his words slur together. His wipes his face with his sleeve and tries so hard to be composed though he knows he can’t be. Not like this.

“You don’t need to change dewdrop. We don’t want you to change. I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear any of that. I didn’t mean it.” Mountain tries his best to plea with him, but he knows this about more than a stupid conversation behind closed doors.

“I do need to change. I need you all to love me like you do each other. Please” he can’t stop the words from tumbling out if his mouth. Years of pent up insecurities and he’s ashamed for how easy he’s letting them all go.

“We do love you dew, we love each other all equally, what is this about?”

“You don’t treat me the same” the words are choked, they’re barely coherent. “No one gives me the same affection as everyone else and I don’t get it. I just want to be loved like everyone else is”

“Oh dew, we do love you. I’m sorry if we made you feel otherwise. Why didn’t you say something?” Mountains abandoned his coffee now in favor of trying to rest his hand on dews shoulder but it’s quickly batted away. He’s concerned, almost scared at the way dew is practically sobbing, almost hyperventilating.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you how I feel. If I deserved love I would’ve gotten it already” he finally yells, sobs around his words. He collapses on the ground with mountain by his side. He’s again ashamed for his emotions. He doesn’t like being like this, doesn’t like being a nuisance. This was supposed to be about proving himself to mountain and he’s made it about himself. He again tries to push the concerned ghoul away. He doesn’t deserve the support.

Dew knows he's being unreasonable. He's jerk, a menace, a brat. Why would anyone go out of their way to show him any extra kindness. He doesn't deserve it. There's always the question of "if you crave love so badly, why don't you treat others with it" and the internal debate of "I don't deserve it" and "if I deserved it, someone would see past the act and give it to me anyways"

He's blind though, as the other ghouls do love him no matter what. The way they mess with him a bit extra, giving him an outlet to have fun, they think he enjoys it so they keep doing it. How they go to him when somethings wrong, or immediately move aside when all he needs is a warm bed and no talking.

The way mountain plants extra lilacs because he likes the smell, or how ether stands closer to him than the others on stage.

He's just too blinded by his own insecurities to see it. A bitter sweet feeling at being "right" about not deserving to be loved, but he was never right, just can't get over his own ego to admit that.

#I’m sorry #this one has been saved up #a lot of pent up emotions oops!! #my bad for real #the band ghost #ghost #fanfic #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #wrath writes #mountain ghoul

[lazorbeanz]

Why do you personally ship, like, or appreciate Sonamy? What got you into Sonamy? What’s your favorite moment between the two?

Why do I ship Sonamy?

Okay, ima admit it..for someone who is a diehard sonamy fan, and thinks about AND ONLY about them literally every waking second, I can not think of ONE reason why I ship them to begin with….

“So you just ship them for basically no reason WHY?!” Pretty much 😅

And I’ve seen so many other people give their really good reasons and opinions on why they ship sonamy, and I full on agree with ‘em, but as for myself, I rack up nothing…and it’s my favourite ship too I mean come onnn TwT

I’ve also had my sister ask me this same question not long ago, and all I could do was just sit there and think “Damn your life almost revolves around these 2 HOW CAN YOU NOT HAVE AN ANSWER?!” I constantly beat myself up for this because I know I should 😭

And I mean, stuff like being the dynamic duo that they are, (whether in battle or not) their attitude and affection for each other evolving over time, respecting the other’s wants and needs, respecting boundaries (kinda the same thing tbh lol) , enjoying each others company, and just how the whole idea of sonamy has turned from what some people may see as “toxic” or “forced” (that might be the better word for it) from early 2000s media, to something more laid back and healthy like recent media because of all the character development over the years… etc, etc…are all fantastic reasons, and even reasons I would now apply as to why I love the ship even more…BUT they’re not the reasons I began to ship them in the first place, because these things I NEVER took into consideration when I starting doing so.

To put a long story short, I just saw pink and blue hedgies and was like, “ooooh I sense chemistry”

I feel like I could be going no where with all this. But all I’m tryna say is that I LIKE sonamy simply because of who they are…just a speedy blue boi and his hammer-wielding pink girlie. I APPRECIATE them solely because of their existence, especially in my life. They are like- one of the few things I ever look forward to these days. I SHIP them because unlike any other ship that has sonic or amy in it, sonamy just… “works” (I don’t know how to explain it but you know what I mean right??) And despite not being canon, (YET! 😏) they have got to be the closest ship to becoming canon (besides vectilla) ..unless I’m just biased :p

What got me into Sonamy?

Well, I did kinda just answer this in the previous question lol but I have to elaborate!

So yeah it started off with just seeing them 2 together and thought “I like where this is going hehe” tho tbh it never really went anywhere…because I was watching Sonic Boom at the time XD, the first piece of Sonic media I consumed since regaining an interest in the franchise. AND WE ARE NOT going back to like 2015 or 16 when I first discovered Sonic…idek what I did regarding shipping back then…I think I like shipped blaze and shadow or something OH LAWD-

Also to think that those short lived Sonamy moments in Boom didn’t even bother me in the slightest?! Present me is disgusted by such lack of interest or care! 😫

Okay okay I’m straying from the question, I’m sorry!!

There are a few things that got me hooked on Sonamy. First was definitely the tv series’. Boom, Prime and X all had adorable and wholesome moments that I could’ve almost died of cuteness from! Some of it was also hilarious too. In Sonic boom for instance, sonic and Amy would fight like a married couple lololol

Another thing (and this was the game changer) was the fanart and animatics. These became the addiction for me; one comic would lead to me reading another, which lead me to read another and so on. Or I’d find an animatic on YT and watch that and then begin scavenging trying to find more animatics to feed these cravings of sonamy I was beginning to gain all of a sudden.

And it just got worse and worse to the point I practically need a daily dose of Sonamy or I just might go feral

But I mean, how could I not?! YOU GUYS ARE SO GOSH DARN TALENTED AKJDJSJDND

Sadly now my food hath runneth dry over the months…so if any of u like come across anything sonamy pls don’t hesitate to tag me or send it to me pls I need it ajhshsjs

On top of all that, came the brainrot. My growing love for this ship and all the incredible media really sent me into a serious Sonamy delulu era. Literally almost ANYTHING can send me into deep thoughts about those 2, no kidding. I literally planned out in my head an entire story of them a couple days ago. Sometimes it’s a head canon or 2, other times just something extremely wholesome I’ll imagine them do and I’ll be deceased. Those rats live in my head rent free omg-

As I said, ANYTHING can trigger this brainrot; a song, a scene, a quote, a random object…you name it, I’ll come up with a Sonamy headcanon in relation to it.

I can’t also forget other sonic media that also boosted it like game cutscenes and IDW. Lately IDW has been CARRYING it for me with the little Sonamy moments like in the 900th adventure, #67 and other tidbits I’d find in former issues. The amount of frames I’ve seen of them hugging warms my heart waaa🥺🥺

Overall, this fandom has really impacted me and my love for Sonamy. (and sonic in general) all the things I’ve learnt and discovered have made me love them all the more because of it. My life has almost become an Sonamy aesthetic now…I am NOT joking when I tell you my PJs are Sonamy coded, and that was hardly intentional…🤣

Favourite Sonamy moment?

Arrghhh why just one?? Pretty much ANY moment involving those 2 cotton candy hedgies are bound to be my favourite!

Totally not saying this cuz I can’t pick a favourite *cough cough*

Take this, it’s the only Sonamy image I really have in my photo album rn.. (I should be in jail for this)

Its one of my favs so it counts :)

Woowee that just about covers it! Now you know all about my weird and wonderweird love for my favourite ship :D 🩷💙

#sez says #asks #answered asks #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth #amy rose #Sonamy #sonic x Amy #sonic and amy

[beyonddmythoughtssworld]

Can you write something about Rafe eating out reader for this first time? And maybe she was in a past relationship and her ex never would give her oral or finger her (because only cared about his pleasure) basically Reader and rafe making out, he’s undressing her, and she’s just like “aren’t you going to take off you clothes too?” And rafe just smiles and starts kissing down her stomach and she’s just like “why is your head down there-OH”

uncharted territory | rafe cameron x reader

Summary: When finding out you’ve been left unsatisfied in the past, Rafe sets out to rectify the situation.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: 18+ content, innocent!reader, smut, eating out, light spanking, fingering, squirting, oral kink (?)

A/N: i loved writing this innocent reader with rafe is one of my top favorite tropes honestly 😭 thanks for the request🫶🏼

“Earlier… during that game,” Rafe started, breaking the silence in the car. His eyes squinted together as he looked over at you. You slightly cower in the passenger seat, face flushing. You don’t know why you thought he wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“Okay! Never have I ever… snuck out,” You send a smirk to the group as an array of protests all come out at you. You were currently sitting in Rafe’s lap, holding a beer that you two were sharing as you played the drinking game with a group of his friends.

“Oh come on!” His friend Andy exclaimed as he took a shot.

“That’s so not fair,” One of the girls who was perched on Kelce’s lap added.

“That’s complete bullshit. How else did you do shit?” Topper asked incredulously.

“Uh.. I asked,” You deadpan, Kelce rolling his eyes in response as he begins to snore. The girl on his lap slapped his arm to wake him up, the group laughing as you lean into Rafe with a pout, looking at him.

“Babe, they’re making fun of me,” You playfully whine, Rafe leaning up to kiss your lips with a mock pout. “I know, baby. Want me to kick their asses?”

“Yes, please,” You nod, Rafe making a motion to stand when Topper holds out his hands.

“Alright! No time for that,” He says, laughing as Rafe relaxes back into the seat, pulling you back with him. He takes the beer from your hand, taking a sip as Topper continues the game. “Never have I ever…. faked an orgasm.”

Your cheeks flush as all of the girls take a sip, the boys having their own reaction to that as well. Without thinking, you take the beer from Rafe’s hand and take a sip of it before handing it back. You feel Rafe’s hand that was rubbing your thigh freeze, and your eyes widen.

“I’m sorry..”

At your apology, Rafe’s eyebrows furrow even more as he gives you a look of bewilderment, “Sweet girl there’s no reason to apologize. I should be doing that.”

“Why- oh, Rafe..” You give a light laugh, the meaning of his words clicking. You immediately shake your head. “I didn’t mean with you. I’ve never… had to fake it with you.”

He stares at you, eyes tracing your features trying to detect if you’re lying or not. But you weren’t. Even though your sex life was still relatively new, Rafe managed to make you feel things you never thought you could.

“Okay,” He replies after a moment, voice hard. His jaw clenched, Rafe running his fingers over it to relax it as he leans his elbow on the door. “I mean, that’s good. I’m glad. I just assumed that you’ve never done anything before me.”

“Well, not really,” You shrug, elaborating when Rafe gave you a pointed look. “You know the guy I dated before you.”

“..That asshole?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” You scoff. You pause for a moment, feeling awkward talking about another guy with Rafe.  “He would always just focus on himself during sex. We rarely ever did it, anyway, but when we did it was like I was more of a rag doll than a person. And not in a good way.”

Rafe nodded, not making any move to respond for a minute. You start to overthink the longer he’s silent; Rafe is never quiet. You start to think he’s mad at you for not telling him about this sooner.

“So there was never any foreplay for you?”

He pulls you out of your thoughts with that question, and you give him a confused look, “Well, yeah, I would… you know so that he was-” 

Rafe shaking his head stops you, a dry chuckle leaving him. “No baby. I mean he never did anything for you?”

“Like.. fingering?” Your eyes dart around in confusion, continuing with a nervous shrug. “That was only once and I didn’t really like it. Hell, I used to think something was wrong with me before .. well, you.”

Rafe nods again, and you want to scream at him to string a sentence together. But you’re also afraid of what he would say. It was already embarrassing having the bad experience you’ve had with sex; a lot more embarrassing when you have to talk about it to your current boyfriend. What if he thought something was wrong with you now?

“Are you mad at me?” You whisper.  “I’m sorry I never told you before you’ve just always been so..”

You trail off, not knowing a nice way of saying he was batshit crazy when it came to thinking of you and other guys. That’s partly why you haven’t said anything about your past sex life. Rafe had the tendency to be possessive, and so the conversation of you fucking other people before him hasn’t come up.

Especially because you two haven’t even done it yet. You’ve had heated sessions where it could have very much happened, but you’d only been together a few months so it never did.

“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe mutters, fingers flexing on the steering wheel as he scoffs. “I’m mad that you’ve had to deal with some asshole using you. There’s no reason you should ever be left unsatisfied.”

You relax into your seat after that, Rafe switching hands so he can bring a hand over to rest on your thigh. He rubs his thumb along it as he drives to the direction of your house, the conversation seemingly being dropped after that.

•••

You moan as you buck your hips up, Rafe slipping his tongue into your mouth as he presses himself against you. You fumble with the zipper of his pants, Rafe grabbing your hands and locking your fingers together as he presses them next to your head.

"Keep them there," Rafe breathed against your lips, moving to your jaw and nipping at it. He takes his hands from yours, and you have to work to follow his orders and not reach for him as he trails his lips down your neck, biting the flesh. Your head tilts back in pleasure as Rafe slowly lifts up your shirt.

When he pulled up into your driveway, you expected him to just drop you off and leave after the awkward conversation about your past horrible sex life. The way his jaw clenched when you were talking about it, you assumed he was mad at the fact that you never told him you did anything before him.

It's not like you lied; but you knew Rafe assumed he was the first guy you'd ever been with and you didn't correct him. Honestly, you wanted him to be the first. Even though the two of you never went farther than dry humping and a little under the pants action, he offered something your ex never did.

Comfortability.

He was so careful with you, always checking in to make sure you were okay and feeling as good as he was. Your ex-boyfriend only cared about his own pleasure, but Rafe wouldn't even think about himself until you've come at least twice. And that was just with his fingers or covered member.

When Rafe pulled you into the room in a rush, immediately dropping you on the bed and laying between your thighs, you assumed it had to do with his possessive nature. He'd just found out some other guy touched you before, and wanted to show you that you're his now. And as much as you believe in women not being property, you loved belonging to Rafe, because it meant that Rafe belonged to you.

The two of you came close to sex, but Rafe wanted to take things slow. He told you once that he didn't want this to be like how it was with other girls for him; he wanted to build the relationship. Nevertheless, the two of you had needs and more times than not, you acted on them.

Like now.

Rafe sits up, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it across the room. He puts your hands back next to your head, giving your wrists a squeeze to remind you not to move them, before moving down to your breasts.

He doesn't remove your bra, just yanks it down so your breasts spill out as Rafe's mouth practically waters the sight of them. He takes them in his hands, squeezing them as you squirm on the bed. Your back arches when Rafe tugs on your nipples, and the blonde shakes his head in almost disbelief, "So responsive."

He moves down to your pants, yanking them down your legs and pulling them off before throwing those as well. His eyes scan your figure, breasts spilling out of your bra with your legs spread open for him, a wet patch forming in your panties. You sit up, tugging at the bottom of his shirt when he stops you again.

You pout as he pushes you back down on the bed, hovering over you as he moves your hands right back to the bed next to where your head lays. He leans down to place a heated kiss on your lips, pulling back to give you a stern look, "I said.. Keep. Your hands. There."

You whimper as Rafe lets go of your hands, kissing down your chest again. He plays with your breasts, almost in a trance as he takes either one into his mouth and sucks on them. You moan, Rafe moving down to place wet kisses on your sternum. You watch as he does, lifting your head but not moving your hands, "You don't want me to take your clothes off, too?"

Rafe looks up at you, kissing down until he is right above your belly button. He sends you a small wink as he smirks into your stomach, kissing further down until he is right at the top of your panties. This was all new territory for you, normally Rafe would be pressed against you by now, both of you in your underwear as he grinds his cock against you.

But when Rafe kisses the top of your mound over your panties, moving farther down the bed while spreading your legs to make room for him, you feel your breath pick up in anticipation. He presses your thighs to the bed, you completely exposed as he squeezes them to give you the same command he did with your hands.

"Rafe.." You trail off, breath coming out heavy as he kisses your center over your panties. He takes a finger to move them to the side, and your eyebrows furrow as you try to catch your breath, "Babe, what are you doing- Oh, fuck."

A gasp leaves you as Rafe covers you with his mouth, tongue coming out to lap at your wetness. Your chest rises and falls at a rapid speed as you look down at him. His eyes are closed as he sucks on your center, humming into your pussy. That sends a shock right through you, and your head falls back on the bed as you get used to the feeling of his mouth on you.

You've never felt anything like this before. You felt hot everywhere, your pussy feeling especially warm. The slickness of his tongue mixed with your juices, and you have to bite your lip to hold in a moan as he brings his tongue to your clit, flicking at the nub.

Rafe's hands trail up your stomach to your breasts again, slapping one of them. You look down at him again, seeing his eyes trained on you as he mumbled into your folds, "I need to hear you."

You let go of your lip, the moans tumbling out uncontrollably now as he gives you a nod of approval. He closes his eyes again, moving his mouth up and down your slit. He pushes his tongue to your entrance, pushing the muscle into you as your legs move instinctively to his shoulders.

His nose rubs against your clit as he moves his head back and forth, pushing his tongue deeper inside of you. He groans into you, pulling off of you only to move his hand over your clit, “I knew you’d taste so fucking sweet.” 

He covers you with his mouth again before you can respond, sucking on your clit. Your hands move, coming to his shoulders to grasp or push him off — you’re not sure, too overwhelmed with the sensation to have any proper control over your body right now. Rafe growls, grabbing your hands again and locking your hands with his as he places them next to your hips on the bed.

His grip is firm, tongue moving faster against you as your hips lift. Your legs start to shake, and you feel the familiar coil begin to build before it ultimately breaks, you letting out a small shriek as you start to come on his tongue. He does nothing to slow his movements; if anything, he moves his tongue even faster against you as you roll your hips up to meet his face.

•••

“Rafe, fuck. Please- stop.. oh my fucking God.”

You bury your head into the pillow as you bite it, Rafe’s hand slapping your ass. He pulls back, giving your pussy a little relief from the torture, breath ragged as he commands, “Lift your fucking head. I won’t tell you again.”

You do so, Rafe making it very clear that he wanted to hear you by the way he would growl at you when you even attempted to hide your moans. You couldn’t help it; he was making you feel so good you didn’t know what to do.

You don’t know how long his head has been between your thighs. You don’t know how many times he’s made you come on his tongue, losing count after about six orgasms. He went from having you on your back to flipping the two of you over to make you straddle his face as his tongue never stopped moving against you.

Now, he has you on all fours as he strokes his tongue against your clit. Your whole body is sweating, pussy clenching around nothing as waves of arousal leak down your thighs. You’d never been so wet out overstimulated; and Rafe seemed to enjoy that sentiment. He’s barely come up for air.

You’re pretty sure that’s why he gets so mad when he has to pull off to tell you to stop being quiet — it meant he had to stop.

“You gonna come on my tongue again?” Rafe asks, gripping at your ass before slapping it roughly. Your body lurches forward, and you moan.

“Mhm,” You whimper, Rafe going back behind you. He grips your ass, separating your cheeks and running his tongue back along your folds. He circles his mouth around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Your eyes roll back, voice coming out in a broken whimper, “Fuck, that feels amazing.”

“Yeah?” He asks, gripping the flesh of your ass and smacking down hard. He pulls away for a second to trail his finger up your slit, kneading your entrance before pushing the digit inside. “Show me how good it feels.”

He brings his mouth back down over your clit, flicking the nub with his tongue. This is new territory for you as well; you never thought fingering could feel so good. But when Rafe curls his finger and it hits a certain spot inside of you, you let yourself succumb to ecstasy.

You start to squirt around his fingers, hearing Rafe’s breath hitch from behind you. You moan loudly, Rafe pumping his fingers faster inside of you, “That’s it, pretty girl. Keep going.”

The next few minutes is a blur of Rafe finger fucking you, hitting that spot continuously as he uses the other hand to rub at your clit. You continue to gush around his fingers, screaming into the pillow as your legs shake. Your mind is fuzzy, not being able to form a coherent though as your pussy clenches continuously around his fingers.

Your orgasm subsides, Rafe flipping you over immediately. You feel a pool of wetness on the bed, squirming when Rafe kisses his way back up your body, settling on your lips and pulling you into another kiss. You moan as you taste yourself on his lips, Rafe pulling away as his eyes bounce around your face.

“You alright?”

You want to laugh at the question. You were more than alright. You felt like you were on Cloud Nine, wanting nothing more than to return the favor. So you tried, fumbling with the pants that were still on him, only for Rafe to stop you again.

“Stop doing that,” You whine.

“You stop doing that,” He teased, kissing your lips softly. “As much as I want that.. and trust me, I do. This was about you, baby.” 

•••

You ended up passing out after Rafe ran a bath for you. You were so sensitive that when you walked it still felt like his warm mouth was still on you, and you blush when you think about how much he seemed to enjoy eating you out.

You’ve never experienced anything like it, and it made you excited for Rafe to introduce you to other things that would make your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Speaking of Rafe, you’re pulled out of your sleep by the same warmth between your thighs. You give a small moan, fluttering your eyes open to look around. When you look down, you notice Rafe’s shirt that you’re wearing is lifted up and Rafe’s dirty blonde hair between your thighs. The sound of your wet pussy and Rafe’s groans echo in the room, and your head tilts back.

You blink your eyes to focus, coming more into consciousness as you gasp out a moan, “Rafe-”

“Shhh, baby.”  He coos, kissing your thighs as he massages them. His eyes were dark with lust as he gazed up at you, “I was watching you sleep and I couldn’t stop thinking about how unsatisfied my baby’s been in the past.”

He tongues at your folds again, and you lift your hips. He pushes them down softly, kissing your clit.

“Just relax, okay?” He softly commanded, eyes trained on your pussy as his tongue darted out over his lips, his breath hot on you. “Let me make up for it.”

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #outer banks #obx fic #rafe x you #rafe cameron #request

[fairy-writes]

Okay okay, hear me out of this one please; a request, Viktor has a significant other that is also pretty ill and has been ill for a while, how would that go on about? I know just how hard it is on other people that have to "deal," with someone chronically ill so would he be more understanding of it because he's also chronically ill? Would they take care of eachother?

RETURNING THE FAVOR

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Reader has cystic fibrosis

Notes: I tried my best to research cystic fibrosis, but I am bound to get something wrong, so please be patient with me!

__________________________________________________________________________

Viktor came home to your coughing. 

Deep soul-wracking coughs that made you hunch over and gasp for breath. 

The kind that brings tears to your eyes. 

The kind that leaves you tired and achy, and your chest hurts, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

He sets aside his work bag and carefully toes off his shoes before using his crutch to make his way down the hall toward your shared bedroom. You initially refused to share a bedroom with him when you both moved in together. Something about your coughing keeping him up at all hours of the night. But once you discovered that the coughing kept him up regardless because of his worry over you, you relented and moved your things into his bedroom. 

Viktor knocks quietly and opens the door after hearing your hoarse “come in” through coughs. 

Your lung infection must’ve come back if you’re coughing this much…

Maybe he could call your doctor and get you checked out later this week.

You’re hunched over the master bathroom toilet on your knees, spitting phlegm and holding your head in your hands as your chest heaves. He can hear you gasping from where he stands in the doorframe.

“I’m home.” He says, and you wave half-heartedly but don’t look up as another bout of coughing hits you. His already present frown deepens, and he leaves your side for a moment to get your medication and various other things to try and help loosen the mucus in your chest. 

He comes back with your breathing apparatus and medication. By then, you’re leaning against the wall, head tilted back, chest inhaling as deeply as your condition would allow. You open your eyes when you hear his crutch thumping against the floor of your apartment. A weak smile crosses your lips when you see what he’s holding. 

Viktor sets his crutch aside and carefully lowers himself to the ground, stretching his bad leg out in front of him. He can see you sag in relief as he carefully administers the medication via breathing apparatus. And that makes him sag in relief. 

“Feeling better?” He asks more than an hour later as you stand over a steaming, bubbling pot of water. The steam is supposed to help thin the mucus building in your chest and allow you to cough it up more easily. It was something your doctor recommended that you figured you’d try. You shrug,

“As good as I can be, I suppose.” You say weakly and smile at him when he puts a mug of tea next to you on the counter.

Taking a break from the steam, you press a kiss to his cheek. His brain stalls, and he stares. Seeing this, you elaborate. 

“You’re too good to me.” You wheeze, and he rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. 

“You do the same for me. I’m just returning the favor.”

You wake up to Viktor’s deep wheezing. 

It was one of the upsides to sharing a bedroom with your lover. You would always know when he was having issues. Because you knew he would never bother you otherwise. 

Dreamland slowly dissipates, and you are brought to the world of the living. Viktor is hunched over the side of the bed; hands fisted in the bedsheets as he tries to take a deep breath. So far, all he can manage is pathetic little gasps. 

So you slip out of bed silently and leave for the kitchen before coming around to his side of the bed. He jumps when you put a hand on his shoulder and sit at his side. You press a warm washcloth to his mouth for him to breathe in the moisture. It had worked marginally for you, so you hoped it would work better for him. 

He accepts the rag gratefully and breathes in the moisture and steam. 

“Look at us. We’re a bunch of sorry messes, aren’t we?” You say, and he lets out a raspy chuckle. He isn’t wearing a shirt, so you retrieve the chest rub from the bathroom and start massaging it into his back and chest. It sometimes helps you, but it helps him more often than not. 

As soon as his breathing eases, he lies back in bed with you and holds your hand. You would typically sleep with your head on his chest, but seeing as you just put chest rub on it, you didn’t want it on your face. So, holding his hand, it was. 

“Why do you put up with me?” He asks as you are slowly dozing off to sleep. You give him a look but answer nonetheless.

“Why do you put up with me?” You retort, and he looks over from where he had been watching the stars out the window.

“Because I love you.” He says easily, and you grin,

“There’s your answer.” 

#arcane league of legends #arcane viktor #arcane #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #cw sickness #fairy writes

[shy-lynn]

Safe

(An RE4 remake Leon Fanfiction).

cw: NSFW 18+, MDNI!!, violence, brief mentions of abuse/rape, gore, yandere

Chapter 1

The last thing I remember was stabbing my boyfriend. Boyfriend? Should I even call him that? Now I’m sitting in a cold interrogation room. My hands cuffed to the steel table in front of me. My legs fall asleep from the hard chair I’m sitting on. Across from me is a man. Dirty blond hair, icy blue eyes and very attractive features. I’m sure that he’s probably a police officer or something close to that at least. He’s sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed across his chest, brows furrowed. He then suddenly sits back up and places the palm of his hands on the table, “Are you ready to talk now? Care to explain why you stabbed a man by the name of Marcus Dupont?” He asked coldly. I stare at him, still in shock and dumbfounded. I open my mouth to talk but no words dare to come out. I feel tears start to threaten my eyes, but I choke them back as well as I can. I had my reasons for stabbing him. It was self defense. But what am I supposed to say? I’m screwed either way.

“I… Well, he…” I stutter out, dropping my head down and trying to think about what to say, “You’re not going to believe me…”

The man narrows his eyes at me, his expression still remaining cold and his eyebrows even more furrowed now, “Just tell me why you stabbed him, miss.” 

I take a deep breath and look around the room. There's no windows here, just a door with the tiniest window on the top. I then swallow hard trying my best to collect my thoughts, “It was self defense. He’s dangerous.” The man's eyes pierce into me, causing fear to fill my body.

“Please elaborate on why you think this man is ‘dangerous’ “, he said, his face remaining void of emotions.

I sigh and look down before speaking, “It started out good. I met him at a bar one night when I was out with a friend. He asked me out on a date and I agreed. The first date went well. The second date was weird. I noticed him doing weird things throughout it. Everytime I would do certain things or say certain things, he would pull out his phone and would be typing something out. He picked me up from my house on the third date, and we went to a bar. I remember him ordering our drinks while I was sitting down at a table. After 30 minutes I started to feel weird. The next thing I know, I wake up in a strange room, chained to a bed. I don’t know why exactly, but I heard him and some guys talking about viruses and something about bioweapons and how I was the perfect person to experiment on. I remember them injecting me with various things, none of them ever doing anything to me luckily, but I was chained to that bed for 9 months straight. The only time he would uncuff me was to use the bathroom and only on occasion, take a shower. After some time I would hear them talking about how something called the T-virus and a Plaga-virus had no effect on me, which made me a ‘rare find’...” I sigh and bring my hand up to rub my temples, “I know, you think I’m crazy… but I have markings on my wrists and ankles from the cuffs and needle pricks to prove it to you. I even have whip marks on my back from when I would piss him off, resulting in him whipping me with his belt.”

The man looks at me, his eyes wide now, “Bioweapons? They injected you with various viruses and you weren’t affected by them? Stay here.” 

The man leaves the room quickly and I look down at my cuffed wrists and say to myself, “Not like I could leave even if I wanted to.” The man quickly returns with another man who is looking at me inquisitively.

“Seriously, Leon? You’re telling me this girl is a victim of bioweapon testing? And none of the viruses had any effect on her whatsoever? This is crazy. Better talk to the DSO about getting her to a safe house. Those guys are going to do whatever it takes to find her again now that they know about her rareness. Not only them, if this information gets out and into the wrong hands, she’ll be in all kinds of danger.” 

Leon nods and looks at me, “You’re right. You mind talking to them for me, Chris? I need to finish up her file” Chris nods and leaves the room. Leon then sits back down in front me, typing things into his laptop, not once looking up at me.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on? I’m scared. You two were saying all kinds of crazy things.” I say, with a worried tone.

Leon pauses his typing and looks back toward me and sighs, “Bioweapons are biologically engineered people that are injected with certain viruses that make the person like a super weapon. I’ve had my fair share of missions dealing with the aftermath of those things. And that guy Chris, he’s part of the BSAA, the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance. He deals with the monsters that come from those viruses all the time. The fact that you’re immune to not only the T-virus but the plaga virus and the C-virus is unheard of. That’s why you’re in danger; if that guy Marcus comes looking for you and anyone else for that matter. So, we’re going to get you set up at a safe house where no one can find you.”

I nod my head slowly, trying to process all of this information. I’m relieved that he believed me at least. But I'm still scared and worried. Leon looks at me, trying to give me a reassuring look, “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe now. You can trust us, okay?”

Chris walks back into the room after some time and hands Leon some papers, “This is the safe house where you need to take her. Hunnigan says that she doesn’t have any other available agents to take her to the safe house and stay with her, so she is assigning you to her case.” Leon sighs but then nods his head, taking the papers and looking at them. Chris then pats Leon on the shoulder and says, “Take care of her. We need her alive,” and turns to walk back out the door. Leon then walks back over to where I am sitting, pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the cuffs on my wrists. I rub my wrists that were already sore from months of being chained to a bed. Leon notices the deep marks on my wrists and gives me an empathetic sort of look.

“Sorry about that. I wouldn't have cuffed you if I knew the whole story first,” He packs up his things and turns to look at me, “Well, come on then. Gotta get you to that safe house, you know.” I stood there looking at him dumbly for a bit, “Something wrong?”

“I… I just don’t have any extra clothes. These are all I have,” I gesture to my blood stained clothes and frown slightly, “Can we stop by my home so I can grab some of my belongings?”

Leon shakes his head, “No can do. Got to get you straight to the safe house. I will send someone over to your house to collect your necessities, okay? The priority is getting you to safety.” Leon then leads the way out of the interrogation room, he gestures for me to sit on a bench in the hallway and wait. He walks down the hall and enters a room that needs a passcode for entry. After 30 minutes, Leon walks out of the room carrying a large duffle bag and his coat, “Follow me,” He pulls keys out of his pocket and leads me out of the building and to a large black SUV. He opens the passenger door for me and closes the door. He then puts the duffle bag into the trunk before getting into the driver's seat. He starts the car and begins to drive. After a while of driving, I noticed that we were driving to the middle of nowhere. Nothing but trees surrounding us, in every direction. Soon, the paved road turns into a dirt road as I see a house emerging among the tree line. 

I point out the window and ask, “Is that the safe house there?”

Leon follows where I’m pointing and nods his head slowly, “It would appear so.” He pulls up into the driveway, just in front of the garage, “Welcome home,” he says trying to lighten the mood. I sigh and look at the house in front of me. It looks nice and all, but home? It’s not home… that’s for sure. I get out of the car and follow Leon to the front door. He unlocks it and holds the door open for me, gesturing for me to go inside. He doesn’t follow me inside, instead he goes back to the car to grab the duffle bag from the trunk before locking the car and coming inside. I stare at the duffel bag curiously.

“What’s in the bag?” I ask.

Leon plops the bag onto the ground by the door and smirks slightly, “Protection.” I give Leon a confused look, “Guns. Knives. Ammo. Like I said… Protection.” I widen my eyes and nod my head. I glance around the house and notice how cozy everything seems. I begin to walk around and look at the house, trying to familiarize myself with my surroundings. I go upstairs and notice two bedrooms. I hear Leon shout from downstairs, “Pick whichever room you want, ladies get first choice.” I look into both rooms and I pick the room that has a pretty green velvet duvet. There's two nightstands with lamps, a dresser, a closet and a bathroom. The room feels cozy. I sit down on the bed and run my hands over the soft duvet. I exhale a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to relax my body. When I open my eyes, I see Leon leaning against the doorway of the room, “ I see you picked your room. I have a guy coming shortly to drop off our stuff. There's no knowing how long we’ll have to stay here, but I’ll be sure to give you your privacy and your space. My room is right across the hall from this one if you need me.”

I stand up and walk to the bathroom and notice that it has a shower with a big porcelain claw foot tub, and I immediately want to sit in a warm bath but I know I have to wait for that guy to show up so that I can actually get cleaned up. I wander out of the room and down the stairs. I see Leon pacing around the living room, talking to someone on the phone. Based on what I hear from the conversation, I assume it’s the guy that’s supposed to be dropping off our things. He hangs up and turns to me before saying, “I will be right back. I have to meet him a ways down the road for safety reasons. Leave the door locked, don’t open the door for anyone. Okay? I’ll have the key.” I nod my head and watch as Leon leaves out the front door. I hear the engine of the car roll over and I hear him drive away. I walk over to the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water. I drink the water and fill it back up, not realizing how thirsty I was. I then opened the fridge and noticed that it’s fully stocked. I close it back up and walk to the couch to sit down.

After a bit, I hear a key being inserted into the door and I turn around to see Leon entering with a bunch of bags. I rush over to him and try to grab some of the bags but he waves me off, “You just go relax, I’ve got this.” I nod my head and get out of Leon’s way. He carries the bags upstairs. He drops a couple of the bags into the room that I’m staying in and the rest into his. I quickly go upstairs and start unpacking my bags. Leon walks over to the room I’m staying in and says, “Now that you have your things, you should probably go wash up,” He gestures to my blood covered clothes, causing me to look down at them. I grab a pair of clothes and head to the bathroom to draw myself a bath. I relax in the tub and after a while I get cleaned up. I get out of the bath and get dressed and get myself looking more presentable. I venture out to the living room, my hair still wet from my bath. I see Leon in the kitchen cooking. Leon notices my presence immediately and says, “Hope you’re hungry. Making dinner.” I walk closer to Leon and notice how amazing it smells.

“Smells good. What is it?” I ask, my stomach growling.

“Just some chicken, rice and some asparagus. I didn’t know what kind of food you like, so I just picked something random. There's wine over on that shelf if you’re interested.” I look over at the shelf of wine on the right and shake my head.

“I don’t… drink anymore.” Leon looks over at me and nods his head.

“I wouldn’t want to drink after what you experienced either. For me though, the shit I’ve seen… made me want to drink.” He says, chuckling softly. I give him a curious look.

“What kind of things have you seen?” I ask.

“Sorry, but that’s confidential. Can’t tell you.” He gestures for me to go sit at the table and I obliged. I sit down at the table and Leon puts a plate of delicious looking food in front of me. My mouth waters at just the smell alone. 

“Thanks for cooking this. It looks great. I haven’t had a good meal in… so long.” Leon gives me a sad kind of look and nods his head.

“Well, dig in.” He says. I gently grab the fork and bring a bite to my mouth. I savor every bite until I eventually clean the plate. Leon grabs our empty plates and brings them to the sink. He walked back over to me with a glass of some amber colored liquid that has a strong odor. He chuckles as he sees my curiosity, “Whiskey. My poison of choice.” I nod my head slowly.

“Gross,” I say, squinching up my face slightly.  Leon chuckles and brings the glass back up to his lips taking a sip.

(Please let me know if you like this so far. I'm trying this out so I'm kind of new to this. Let me know if you have any requests or suggestions for me. Thanks!)

#leon kennedy #leon #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 remake #fanfic #smut #18+ content #yandere male #yandere leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy

[ador3sturniolo]

Company

An - I have received requests! And thank you so much for them! Just please wait as it take me time to write my stories, but I will eventually get to your requests!

Paring - Chris Sturniolo X Fem!Reader

Summary - You and Chris are friends until something unexpected happened :o

Request - No!

Warnings - Kissing, NOT PROOFREAD (I swear one of these days I will proofread something 😭), Maybe cringe? One or two curse words.

Word count - I don’t even know 😨

Im sitting on the couch as I hear the front door open, with Chris and Matt walking through it. Me and Nick turn to look at them as we pause the tv. Matt looks exhausted, but Chris seems happy. He walks over to the couch and plops down next to me as Matt goes to his room.

“What’s got you in a good mood” I say to Chris as he lays down on my lap, smiling.

“Oh nothing, I’m just glad that we’re back home, I hated that place. Nothing to do there” he said, complaining.

“It was just the grocery store, stop being such a big baby” Rolling my eyes as I lay back.

Nick giggles as he gets up from the couch and goes to Matt’s room.

“Nick? Why are you giggling” I asked, concerned.

“Just wait till you realize it” He says closing Matt’s door.

I Look at Chris to see if he had any idea to why Nick just did that, he shrugged his shoulders. I grab my phone out from my hoodie pocket and go on TikTok, I put my fingers in Chris’s hair, because it helps him relax and he loves when I play with his hair. I giggle at a couple TikTok’s and occasionally show Chris TikTok’s I find funny.

A couple hours later

I’m still scrolling on TikTok, as for chris, he has fallen asleep on me from my fingers playing with his hair, although he’s asleep, I don’t stop, I like the feeling, his hair is fluffy. I look up from my phone to see that Matt walks out of his room, him looking at us, barely seeing anything because of the dim lights, but is able to make out us.

“Hi Matt” I say quiet, not trying to wake Chris.

He doesn’t say anything, just giggles the same way Nick did earlier. He walks back into his room, and I’m now pestered. They wont tell me what’s so funny. I shake my leg a little, Not to much but enough to wake Chris up.

“Chris?” I whisper.

“Hm?” He mumbles, shifting a little bit.

“I need you to get up, I can take you to your room if you want” He whine’s.

“But I’m so comfortable” he starts to complain about how he doesn’t want to move.

“Or you can stay here and I’ll be right back?” I question

“Fine, Just be quick” he says sitting up to let me go.

I Walk to Matt’s room, with Matt and Nick inside. I walk in and shut the door.

“Okay guys. What’s so funny” I say crossing my arms

“You and Chris.” Nick spoke up.

“Your gunna have to elaborate on that.” I say now leaning against the wall.

“The way you and Chris act around eachother” Nick said like I was supposed to know what he was talking about.

“How do you not see it?” Matt chimes in.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about, we’re just friends” I say. It’s not that I don’t love Chris. I’ve had a crush on him for a while now, I just don’t feel that he feels the same way, so I won’t say anything about it.

“Yeah right. It’s going to come to you soon.” Nick says shrugging.

“Nothing going on betwe-“ I get cut off by Chris loudly groaning, signaling for me to come back.

“There’s your boyfriend calling” Matt says with a chuckle.

“Shut up! And he’s NOT my boyfriend.” I say leaving his room, rushing back to Chris.

“Took you long enough” he said as I sat down.

“Sorry your brothers can be a pain.” I say pulling my phone back out. I could hear him whine.

“What’s wrong now?” I say careless.

“You stopped playing with my hair” He pouts.

I could tell he was pouting by his tone. I don’t complain once again and put my hands in his hair. I could tell he’s satisfied by the way he was fixing himself into a better position. I started to think about what the other two said, they might be right, but there’s no way he could like me back. Right? I start to get tired, so I turn off my phone and grab a blanket from behind us on the couch and put it on me and Chris. It doesn’t take me Long to fall asleep considering of how comfortable I am.

I Wake with Chris still asleep on my lap, looks like he hasn’t moved an inch. I grab a pillow close to me to replace the feeling of my lap with the pillow so I could get up to use the bathroom. I walk out of the bathroom, with Nick coming out of his room at the same time.

“So how’d you two love birds sleep.” Nick said, sorta whispering.

“First of all, we are not lovebirds, And two, I slept good.” I say dramatically, as I walk away.

Nick goes into the kitchen and I go back to the couch, sitting away from Chris so he can’t hear my phone playing. A couple hours later, Chris wake up, sitting up, looking around for me.

“Good morning Chris.”

“Did I sleep like this all night? Like with the pillow?” He said as it looked like he was starting to turn sad.

“No, I did it this morning because I needed to use the bathroom.” I say concerned on why he was getting sad.

“Oh okay.” He says getting off the couch and walking to his room.

I don’t move from my spot on the couch, only scrolling through my Pinterest feed. Matt and Nick must have heard Chris leave so they came out to the living room together. They both sat down beside me, smirking.

“Seriously guys, nothing is going on between us!” I shake my head

“Yeah right! “Just Friends” don’t lay on eachothers lap Like that.” Nick said, along with Matt shaking his head in agreement.

“I didn’t even lay on his lap! Only he layed on mine! I don’t think there’s anything weird about it, like if you guys wanted to lay on my lap, I wouldn’t care.” I shrugged my shoulders

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t complain if you were gone for a couple minutes.” Matt added on.

“How blind are you too see that he like you back.”

“Woah there buddy. I don’t even like Chris. Chill.” I roll my eyes.

“What ever you say” Nick said as him and Matt walked off.

I scoffed as I told them that I would be leaving. I headed off to Chris’s room to tell him as well. I peak through to the door to see Chris on his bed, on his phone.

“Hey Chris, I’ma get going.” I spoke.

“Why?” He sits up as he gets upset.

“I have a home too you know.” I say fully in his room.

“But this is your second home, so why not stay here.” I lean back on the wall at his response.

“I could possibly come back” I say suggesting

“Yes please.” He shakes his head up and down violently.

“Okay then, I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.” I said leaving his room.

“Yes ma’am” He said leaning back in his bed.

I roll my eyes as I head out of their house, getting into my car. I’m back at home and I take a shower, washing my hair and body, and shaving. I get out of the shower and brush my teeth. I get changed into a very simple outfit. I put my hair into half up half down. I don’t do my makeup, just put on some lipgloss. I put on my shoes and get back into my car. On the way I saw a Starbucks, and decided to get something to eat and drink. I text a group chat I made with all four of us to let them know I’m on my way back over. I received one “Ok!”, an “See you soon” and a “YAYY”. I Like all the messages and went back to driving.

I walk through their house to find all three of them laying down on the couch watching a movie. I set my phone and keys down, and give them their drinks. They give me smiles and thank yous. I nod and sit down in between Nick and Chris. It’s almost instant as Chris put his head back in my lap, just like from last night. I look up to see Matt and Nick looking at me. I shrug my shoulders and roll my eyes. I put my fingers in his hair as soon as I can or else he’ll throw a fit like a baby.

A couple hours later

A couple hours later and Chris has fallen asleep, I’m still wide awake and so are Matt and Nick. Matt gets up from his spot and signals me to follow him, so I tell Nick to take my spot for now, he starts complaining quietly, and starts talking to himself while we’re gone.

“Do you need something?” I asked crossing my arms.

“You know, while you were gone for that short period of time earlier today, Chris wouldn’t shut up about you and how he couldn’t wait for you to get back.” Matt suggests.

“And? What are you trying to suggest?” I say looking at him.

“Gosh, it’s kind of sad. Both of you like each other! Make a move or something!” He says throwing his hands up.

“Where did you get the idea that I liked him?!” I say in disbelief.

“It’s so obvious. And says every time you’re with him. You guys are like puppy dogs for each other. I’m just saying.” He says shooing me away with his hand movements. I scoff as I walk away back to Nick.

“Finally you’re back” Nick says rolling his eyes.

“Yeah yeah” I say sitting back down where I used to sit.

I sigh as I realize that what Matt and Nick were saying made sense. I never thought that Chris would like me back, but who knows Chris more than anyone? That would be his brothers. Nick sits up from his spot and walks to his room as he says goodnight to me. I want to sleep but it’s kinda hard to when Chris is on my lap, although I was able to do it yesterday, I just want to lay down, not be sitting up. I shake Chris to wake him up. He groans, again.

“Chris, you need to get up.” I say whispering.

“But I Like it here.” He whines

“I know but I need to sleep as well.” I say helping him sit up. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands up and wobbles. I stand up and go by his side to help him keep his balance. I grab his side as I help him into his bed. I turn around and was about to leave until I heard a voice speak up.

“Wait..” He says, putting his arm out for mine.

“Hm?”

“Can you stay with me?” He says, practically begging.

“You want me to sleep with you?” I say, concerned as I tilt my head. He just nods, kinda pouting with it.

“Uh sure.” I say climbing into the other side of him, laying down. I turn to look at him, seeing him look up at his ceiling, closing his eyes. I feel like I should ask him is he likes me, before I have to wait for another chance.

“Chris?” I only receive a hum in response. 

“Do you like me? I mean, Like like me..?” I say turning the opposite way.

“Yes..” He says as he drifts off into his slumber. He’s probably going to forget we even talked about that by the morning. But I couldn’t stop thinking about his response. I couldn’t stop smiling either. If I recall, I fell asleep smiling.

I woke up with Chris’a arms wrapped around me, his head on my shoulder. I wanted to get up so I could get some breakfast, but part of me was feeling that I shouldn’t. So I decided to go back to sleep for a little longer, or at least until Chris wakes up. I could feel Chris shifting around as he sat up, yawning.

“Good morning” I say as I sat up as well. He gives me a smile as he put his hand though his hair.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” I say looking at him.

“What is there to talk about, nothing really much left to explain.” He says shrugging his shoulders.

“Well maybe… but wh-“ I get cut off by Nick opening the door. His jaw drops.

“Oh my god. MATT!!!! Wait you two didn’t, you know?” Nick says jumping up and down waiting for Matt to come over.

“No! And quit jumping up and down.” I say kind mad. Why is he screaming this early. Matt turns the corner and looks inside the room. He turns to Nick and they both start jumping and screaming together.

“Shut the fuck up!” Chris yells.

“Finally you guys, it took you long enough to realize it.” Matt spoke up, slowing down his jumping. I roll my eyes as I get up from Chris’s bed, shoving my way past Nick and Matt to get to the kitchen. I could hear Nick and Matt talking to Chris but I didn’t care what they were talking about. All I cared about is my food. I was starving. I sat down as all three of them walked out of his room. I couldn’t stop looking or thinking about Chris. I think Matt noticed because he kept looking back and fourth constantly at me and Chris. I look down and my bowl of cereal as they chitter chatter.

“Okay guys, i think I’m going to go home today.” I say putting my bowl of finished cereal in the sink. Chris looks at me and pouts.

“But why?” Chris says whining. Me and the other two brothers look at each other.

“What?!” Chris says throwing his hands up.

“You act like a complete Baby around her, and when she has to leave.” Nicks says.

“I do not” Chris says in disbelief.

“You kinda do Chris. But I mean you do you.” I say shrugging my shoulders.

“Could I just hangout with you a little longer?” He says walking up to me.

“But I wanna go home. I love you all but I wanna go home for a day or two.” I say looking up at Chris.

“I could just come over for a little bit?” He says suggesting.

“Uh sure just give me a little bit when I get home, okay?” I say smiling. He nods as I leave to go give Nick and Matt hugs. I wave at Chris as I Walk through the door, heading to my car. I drive home and immediately get into my shower. I get out and I brush my teeth and do my hair into a claw clip. I get into comfy but cute clothes. I turn on my fairy lights in my room and light two candles. I get my MacBook from my bed side table and go on Pinterest until I hear a knock on my door. I hop up from my bed and walk to the door to find Chris on the other side. It’s starting to sprinkle outside so I tell him to hurry in.

“Hi.” I say leading him through my nicely cleaned house and into my bedroom. I lay down on my bed, making space for him to lay down next to me.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” I say turning on my tv.

“How about, The tomorrow war?” He says.

“Isn’t that the scary movie with Chris Pratt?” I ask.

“Yep.” He nods.

“I’m not sure, I’m not the best with scary movies, I thought you knew that.” I say pulling my blanket over the both of us.

“I know, but that’s why I’m here.” He says smiling at me.

“Okay then.” I say putting my head on his shoulder. The movie was almost over, I was think that there was no more jumpscares but was I wrong. The monster popped up from no where which made me scream and turn over onto Chris.

“I can’t do this no more.” I said, fake crying.

“Stop being such a baby” Chris said. I sit up in shock.

“Says the one who complains whenever I have to leave you, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes.” I say, playfully smacking him.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes as he pauses the movie and sits up.

“Why’d you pause it?”

“Well we we’re taking and I wanted to do something really quick.” He says tilting his head.

“What did you want to do?”

“Well um, you can’t get upset or anything, okay?”

“Well it depends on what it is.” I say giggling.

“Well um..” He says scooting a little closer to me. He grabs my neck and pulls me in. Next thing I know, he’s kissing me. The boy that I loved for so long is kissing me? I pull back, trying not to have things getting taken too far.

“Did I do somthing wrong?”

“No. Just think that we can take it slow.” I say smiling as I lay down. He smiles back as he unpauses the movie and lays down with me. I lay on-top of his chest, as he starts to play with my hair. It’s now night time and we have been watching more movies together. I get up to check the time on my phone.

“Holy. It’s 2 in the morning. Do you think Nick and Matt have locked the door yet? Do you want to sleep here?” I say getting back in bed.

“They probably have, so I think I should. Do you mind if I take a shower?” He says getting up.

“Yeah, I can get you a towel, I have alot of body washes so you can choose what you want. I only have an oversized hoodie, which it might fit you? I’m not sure.” I say getting up.

“I don’t need it, do you have any shorts I can wear tho.”

“Yes I do! Don’t think of anything wired. I wanted to order some shorts but I accidentally ordered it in men’s, so they should fit.” I go to my dresser and give him the nicely folded shorts. He nods and heads into my bathroom. I run to my hall closet and get a towel for him. I put it on the bathroom countertops and u shut the door. I lay down on my bed thinking about the kiss that happened earlier. I could still feel his lips on mine. I get up and go into the kitchen to make us a quick snack. I bring it back into the room with Chris just exiting my bathroom.

“What’d you make?” He says shaking his head in the towel.

“Just a couple pizza rolls.” I say setting them down along with me sitting down. He throws the towel in my hamper and sit down with me. We turn on the tv and watch movies while we eat the pizza rolls.

“I’m going to go to sleep, do you want the lights or the tv on.” I say grabbing the remotes.

“No, but could you turn the lights down?”

“Yeah.” I turn the lights down, not so bright that I could see his full face but so I could see some of his features.

“Goodnight Chris.” I say, kissing his forehead as I turn over.

—————————————————————

An - Hi guys! That one was a long one! I was thinking of writing a part 2 for my Angst of Matt?? Hopefully this didn’t make anyone uncomfortable 🙏🏽 I thought it was kind of cute?? Anyways, thank you guys SO MUCH, for all the love on my other stories! 🫶🏼🤍

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