#but in good news I was able to go today and
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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
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📄 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧
Francis Mosses x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife!Reader, lactation kink, breastfeeding.
𝐀/𝐍: It’s not much but I just wanted to get this fantasy I had out there. I tried to embed some of the 1950s language and pet names here
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After the weight from the day, you help your husband relax and end his day with a strong finish.
Francis pushed the key to his apartment with a sigh. Today was physically taxing as per usual and his body was exhausted.
But it didn't help that the new doorman was giving him a hard time and was skeptical about letting him in. Even if he was on the list today, he still asked for his ID.
To make matters worse, he spent way too long scrutinising the picture and his face, while Francis would stand and wait awkwardly.
As much as he understood the importance of making sure everything was in check with the doppelgänger’s lurking around, Francis wanted nothing more than to go home.
Finally stepping inside, he loosened the bow tie around his collar and removed his hat. The apartment was quiet and the only main light on was the hallway giving a comforting atmosphere to come home to.
He headed to the bedroom to find you settled on the bed reading a novel with the bedside lamp on. You were so engrossed in your book, you didn’t seem to notice nor hear him come in.
Francis propped his hat and tie on his side of the bed before he climbed under the covers with you. Normally you would be on his case for wearing his work close to bed but tonight, he was too tired and just wanted to be in your arms.
You put your book down on the bedside table when he positioned himself and rested his head on your chest.
“You’re home early,” you remarked, slipping your arms around him to embrace him. Your voice was always a soothing solace in contrast to the hectic day he just had.
“Yeah, I managed to get everything done pretty quickly today,” he felt you running your hands over his hair and it was enough to lull him to sleep.
“Rough day at work?”
“More like a rough encounter with the new doorman,” Francis grumbled, nuzzling into your neck.
You mused, “Oh right, they hired a new fella, huh?”
The frustration from the memory quickly died down when he picked up on your familiar scent— a subtle aroma of detergent mixed with fresh baked goods, reminding Francis of what home felt like. He lifted his head slightly just enough to see your face.
“And what have you been doing all day, doll?”
He knew you probably didn’t do much but he would always ask anyway just to hear your voice. A soft smile plastered on your face. “I had to post some letters at the post office today but other than that, same old same old,”
Francis sighed, feeling himself being basked in your warmth. There were some moments at his job where things wouldn’t go his way, whether he was a customer complaining about spoiled milk or missing his morning alarm.
Every morning he would always be the first to wake up, often before dawn, so you wouldn’t be able to see him leave. But he would always leave a kiss on your forehead before he left the apartment.
It saddened him that he couldn’t spend his mornings with you. But all of it was worth it at the end of the day when he got to come home to you in your arms like this.
You continued to massage his scalp gently before your hands lowered to rub on his back. For a while, you both stayed like this in silence and enjoyed each other’s presence.
However, the tranquility that was shared between the two of you was interrupted when there was a subtle sweet smell coming from you— your breasts specifically.
Francis lifted his head and noticed that your shirt was getting damp from the breast milk that was leaking. The smell was getting stronger as your shirt was getting more wet.
You quickly bunched your shoulders in embarrassment when you noticed what he was looking at, squeezing more of the milk out from your nipples.
“I didn’t expect that to happen. I’m sorry,” your demeanour became more frantic compared to how calm and collected you were just a moment ago.
Just as you were about to sit yourself up to change to a different shirt, Francis held you in place so you wouldn’t move.
“Now, don’t go shy on me sweetheart,” he murmured, gently moving your arms away to expose your wet shirt.
His hands reach over to untie the bow on the collar before unbuttoning your shirt in slow precision to reveal your breast. Milk was already leaking from the tip of your nipple and was smeared over your soft skin.
His hand cupped one of your breasts, making sure to handle you with care. He knew that your breasts were more tender and sensitive.
His fingers graze over the nipples before gently squeezing the tip, earning a gasp from you. The tip stiffened to its peak— a sign of your arousal. He watched in awe as more milk was seeping from your nipple and running down his knuckle.
He quickly lapped the milk on his hand before his mouth was hovering over your chest again. He kissed along the skin and around the nipple. Your hands reach over and run your fingers over the hair on his nape.
Your occasional gasps was a fuel for him to continue until his lips grazed over the tip. He gazed up at you from his view.
His voice was soft when he asked, “May I?”
You laughed at his antics, “You want a taste?”
“I don’t see why not,”
After you nodded in approval, his mouth latched onto your nipple and gently sucked, feeling your milk soothe over his taste buds eagerly.
Francis’ job was to deliver milk around but none of the milk he delivered would be as sweet as yours. There was a feeling of satisfaction knowing that only he had access to your milk— something from you that he could have all to himself.
He continued to feed off of your lactation, feeling extra greedy. Your back arched further against his mouth and your soft moans encouraged him further.
“Francis…” your voice was hazy and he looked up at you with hooded eyes while still being attached to your breast.
After he was satisfied, he pulled himself away to look at you. You were breathless and even more beautiful seeing you raw like this.
His sweet, pretty wife.
Francis felt a tightness growing in his pants, taking in the sight of you and being completely enamored by you. A newfound adrenaline and excitement was coursing through his body now.
He reached over the unzip the flying of his pants before he let his cock spring out, free from the bondage of his clothes.
You couldn’t help but stare at his erection and the smell in the room was a mix of your sweet milk and the precum that was dripping from his tip.
Does anyone wanna be tagged on my Francis mosses fics?
#★— post yap clarity#that’s not my neighbor#that’s not my neighbour Francis mosses#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#francis mosses smut#the milkman#the milkman smut#milkman x reader#milkman#milkman smut#tnmn#tnmn milkman#tnmn francis mosses
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Stuck
Minors DNI
(Not Proofread)
Summary: After a prank, you end up stuck in an elevator with your boyfriend whose problem is getting worse by the minute.
Warnings: Male reader, Degreading, Rouch Sex, Lots of Cum, Sex Drugs (Consensual), Blowjob, Swallowing Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Dom!Myungho,
Wordcount: 2.4k
While scrolling through TikTok, you landed on a page of a couple that both took sexual enhancement drugs and tried to make it a full day without touching each other. The loser got some sort of punishment, but only after mindblowing sex.
You looked over at your boyfriend, Myungho, who was innocently watching TV. Would he be able to hold out? You leaned onto his shoulder and he patted your head to acknowledge your presence. You kissed his neck, "Hey babe, would you wanna try a fun trend?"
Myungho didn't look at you as he said, "If this is the orange trend from last week, I already told you I'd peel however many oranges you want."
"It's a new thing! Just hear me out before you say no."
Your boyfriend looked away from the TV with concern on his face. "Why would you think I'd say no?"
You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. "Please just promise you'll hear me till the end," You begged.
"Okay, I promise," He chuckled. Myungho turned to face you and muted his show, giving his undivided attention.
"So the trend is for us to take a sex drug and we try not to have sex. The loser gets a punishment from the winner."
Your boyfriend frowned slightly. "Are you sure that's the trend? That sounds like a waste of money."
You groaned, "Please! This would be so fun, and we can fuck it all out when it's finished."
"We could just fuck now, it's not like I don't want to have sex. Plus, this wouldn't really be a competition. You're way hornier than I am, you'd cave before the medicine kicked in." Myungho smirked at your expression as he teased you.
"That's so not true! I could totally outlast you!" You pushed him, "I bet that you'll cave first. If you do, you have to buy me a meal every day for the month."
Myungho raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you lose, I want the same thing. And I've been eating a lot lately."
You laughed cockily. "I know I can beat you without trying."
"I'll go out, and buy the meds right now, and we can start today." Myungho left shortly after to go buy the medicine. While you were confident in your ability to hold back, you already had a plan to make sure you'd win... You poured two glasses of water and mixed a powered sex drug into one of the two cups. When Myungho came back, you were ready with the water.
"I've got the water for the pill. Let's do this already!" You were smiling like the devil, and your boyfriend was none the wiser. He gave you one pill, and you gave him the cup of water you specially prepared for him. "On three, and you have to swallow it," You added.
Myungho nodded. "Don't try and cheat to win. If you do, I'll break you later," He said as he winked before swallowing the pill and the whole glass of water.
These words made your whole body shudder, but it was too late to back out now... You swallowed your pill and drank some water. Waiting for it to kick the boring part. You sat on the couch, watching your phone while Myungho went back to his show. It wasn't immediate, but you felt your body get warmer. You peeked over at Myungho, who looked fine. You could see his muscles from the opening in his sleeveless shirt. He'd been going to the gym a lot lately, and it was really paying off. He looked good.
You mentally slapped yourself, pulling yourself out of it. That's just the drugs talking. If you were feeling fucked up, then Myungho had to be the same, right?
You peered at him. "Feeling anything?"
"Nope," He said flatly. "I told you this was a waste of money."
"Just give it time!"
He shook his head. "I did. Nothing's happening, and we've got somewhere to go tonight. So let's forget the game and just get ready."
You pouted to yourself as Myungho got up to go get dressed. The two of you were invited to a party, and you've been begging Myungho to go with you. So you couldn't pass it up now.
The two of you started getting ready, taking your time to do so. Even though he said to forget the game, you couldn't let it go. Every chance you could, you would accidentally tease him. Bending down in front of him, showing your ass. Making him button your shirt. Even forcing him to help you put on your pants. But still nothing...
"Y/n. Are you trying something?" He asked as he pulled your pants over your butt.
"No? What could I be trying?"
Myungho held your chin and lifted it to make you look at him. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Fuck. You were instantly hard. Myungho teased you, pulling you close to him so he could help you with your belt, making you press against his hard body. He moved and shifted, grinding your cock against him. You moaned into his shoulder. "Kitty?"
Fuck! Even calling you that name was enough to get you going. He only called you that when he really wanted your attention. "Y-Yes?"
"Are you being naughty? Do you need me to take care of you?"
You caught yourself about to say yes, but the smile on his face stopped you. "Babe! You're doing this on purpose!" You hit him, pushing him away from you as he chuckled.
"Weren't you doing the same not too long ago?"
"So!? You don't even look like you're bothered by it."
"Of course, I'm not. There's no way some silly drugs is gonna mess with me, but clearly, it's got you." Your boyfriend palmed you over your pants, making you melt into his embrace. "Just say you lose, then I can help you."
"You said the game was stupid..."
"Doesn't mean I don't like winning, right?"
You pushed him away from you again. "I'm not gonna lose! Just go get ready!"
Myungho raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to go to a party like this? You might bump into someone and cum," He said as he tried to hold in a laugh.
"I'm fine!" You stormed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.
"No jerking off either!" He yelled from the other side of the door. "I'll know if you cum."
"S-Shut up!" You buried your face in your hands... There's no way you'd make it through the night. Much less the whole party. But you weren't going to drop out yet.
After calming down, you left the bathroom. Myungho was waiting for you in the living room. "Didn't cum on your own, did you?"
"No. Let's go." You pouted as you walked out the door.
Your boyfriend chased after you, catching up when you were waiting for the elevator. "Don't be like that, you suggested this game."
"Like what?" You pouted.
"Like a brat."
The door opened and you entered it with him.
"I'm not a brat. And I'm not mad."
Myungho leaned on the rail. "Then give me a kiss, show me you're not." You pecked him on the lips. "No. I want a kiss," He demanded.
You sighed before giving a real kiss, your lips meeting his gently. You went to pull away but his hands held you in place. One on your neck and one on your back. He continued the kiss as he bit at your lips–begging for more.
"Hey–" You pulled away before he pulled you back in. He devoured you with a hunger you'd never felt before. You danced around the elevator until you hit a wall, making the elevator shake to a halt. "What the fuck?" You pressed a button, but the elevator wouldn't respond. The symbol said you were on the 8th floor, two floors from your apartment. "Are we stuck?"
"Maybe you bumped into the emergency stop?"
"I didn't–you were attacking me and I backed up!"
"I'm not trying to say it's your fault," Myungho patted your head. "We're probably stuck in here until someone can turn it back on."
You sighed, thinking about the party. "Can we call for help?"
"No signal for me," Myungho showed you his phone. Your phone also had no signal...
"No signal, no way out... We're stuck! This really can't get worse..."
Myungho cleared his throat. "Well, I don't think this is a bad thing."
"How is this not a bad thing?"
"We have each other..." Myungho hugged you from behind, pulling you close to him. You could feel his cock, hard, rubbing against you. You pushed back against it, grinding softly as your own dick started to wake up from the action. "We're stuck in this small elevator, for who knows who long... We should try and make the best of it, right?"
"Yes," You moaned as your boyfriend kissed your neck.
Myungho's hips sharply hit against you, each mini-thrust knocking your breath away. "You want it, baby? You wanna take me in this elevator?" You nodded slowly as your body squirmed under his touch. "I'll have to cum in you so we don't make a mess, is that okay?"
You nod again. "Please, hurry up."
"Say what you want."
"I want you to fuck me, please, do it already..." You moaned as he slid your belt off and pulled your pants down. Your cock jumped out, twitching in the cold air.
"You're so cute. How can I resist you?" Myungho bit on your ears, before spitting in his hand. You could hear him wetting his cock, rubbing the excess on your hole. "I can't wait anymore..."
"Me either..."
Myungho pushed against your hole and his tip slipped inside you, making both of you moan loudly. It felt like your whole body was on fire, tingly all over, and it was just his tip. Your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you as he slowly pushed deeper, his muscles flexing and squeezing you. You've fucked Myungho before, but his cock felt bigger and stiffer than the other times. You could also tell he was trying his best to hold back from slamming himself into you.
Once his cock was completely sheathed in you, you moaned loudly at the fullness. "You like that? Full like a slut, and taking me so well," Myungho whispered to you, his voice low and husky as he panted heavily. He turned you and pushed your against the wall, your skin touching the cold metal, and your cock rutting against the railing.
"I–just–need–more!" You moaned in pleasure, each word jutting out of you as he thrust experimentally. "Myungie, more!"
"Don't say that! I'm trying to take it easy... If I don't hold back, I might hurt you," He smirked before thrusting again. He drank up your moans, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "You keep moaning so loud, someone's gonna hear how much you love my cock. Tell me how much you need my fat cock!" He grabbed your waist and thrust harder, his other hand made its way to your hair as he pushed you more against the wall. Your hard nipples were rubbed against the cold metal of the elevator walls.
All you could do was moan and scream as he picked up the pace steadily. You whined and moaned yourself into a mess, looking at your reflection in the metal. A slut, Myungho's slut, but you loved every second of it–arching your back to meet the thrusts given to you.
"Who owns you, Kitty?" Myungho slapped your ass, and a loud crack rang in your ears.
"Y-You!" You sucked in the air sharply from the pain. Myungho was fucking you so good already, but you needed more. "Myungie! I cheated, in the game. I was naughty–please break me!" You told on yourself, listening closely to his reaction.
"What did you do, Kitty?"
"I put stuff in your water. More sex stuff, to make you wanna fuck more."
He chuckled. "Really? You just wanted to get fucked even harder, didn't you? Even cheating to make sure I would absolutely break you?" Myungho pushed into you completely, pulling you against his body as he peeled your sweaty body off the wall. "Bad boys have to be punished," He whispered in your ear as his hand left your hair and squeezed your neck. He had a tight grip on you, cutting off your air as he slowly fucked you. Each thrust was slow but hard, knocking any remaining air out of you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt dizzy, you held on for as long as you could before tapping on his hand. He released you, as you gasped for air, but he didn't give you much time to recover. Both hands tighten a grip on your hips and thrust into you harshly, shaking the elevator. He wasn't holding it back anymore.
Your walls tightened with joy as your climax approached.
"And don't you care cum before I say so?" Myungho ordered.
You already knew not to, but he was abusing your spot so hard that it was hard to hold it in.
"Fuck! I'm gonna cum–all inside you, fucking slut!" He said, breathing hard as he continued fucking you aggressively. It was a few moments before he dumped a massive load inside you, he wouldn't stop cumming and his whole body twitched. You bit your lip as you felt his load inside you. "I– can't stop cumming. Holy fuck..." Myungho bit into your shoulder as he lazily thrust his cum deeper into you.
When he finally stopped, you remembered to breathe. "Jesus... that was so good," you sighed, your whole body shaking.
Myungho pulled out of you with a loud squelch. "It's your turn, filthy cheater. I want you to cum for me." Myungho got on his knees, slipping your cock into his mouth as he jerked you off way too fast. You jerked and twitched from his roughness but moaned the loudest when you came. You came more than you have ever before, more than Myungho was expecting–cum slipped down his cheek as he tried his best to swallow it.
Once you stopped, you both took a moment to breathe before realizing... Myungho was still hard. He looked at you with a smirk. "Kitty, you're responsible for all this."
You couldn't escape him, trapped in the elevator–Myungho fucked you four more times before he finally tapped out. He had to carry you out of the elevator once it was fixed. He apologized to the apartment staff for the mess before rushing off with you–leaving them to clean a heavily cum-stained floor...
#oracle of dreams#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#x male reader#kpop male reader#x reader#x male smut#myungho#8turn smut#8turn myungho#8turn x reader
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Inevitable Things: chapter five
Aizawa x reader fic
cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)
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Fridays are the only day you carve out time for lunch. Less than coincidentally, Fridays are also the only day lunch is catered.
“Here-” Izuku jams his bowl of take out into Katsuki’s face. “Does it smell like there’s peanuts in here?”
Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s fiance, is only half as ornery as he looks. A premature wrinkle has formed in between his brows, a sign of his almost constant annoyance. His straw colored hair is a sharp contrast to his deep red eyes, currently narrowed in disgust.
“Get this shit out of my fucking face,” he groans. “I’m not a fucking allergy alert dog-- I can’t smell peanuts.”
“To be fair-” Ochako interjects through a mouthful. She’s the opposite of Katsuki: dark hair, round eyes, a smile so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt. Her cheeks are always flushed, spots of broken blood vessels spattered like freckles. “Peanuts do have a smell.”
“Did you ask him to smell for penis?” Denki says, too loud to be genuine. “Kind of homophobic to ask a gay guy that.”
Both men give him identical deadpan stares.
“That’s just his fucking country-ass accent.” Katsuki brushes Denki off and turns back to the curly haired man. “Why would chicken have peanuts in it anyway?”
“The o’l.” Izuku stresses.
“The what?”
“Some places use peanut o’l.”
“Say oil.”
Izuku sneers a bit in return, smoothing out the curves of his accent. “Oy-I’ll.”
“Jesus christ, I’m marrying a hick.” Katsuki leans back in his chair and meets your eye with a jerk of his chin. “Can you believe this?”
You snap back into focus. Your own lunch is untouched, fork still in its little plastic wrapper. Hunger nips at your stomach, but nausea wins over today. The cafeteria isn’t very busy, but in the next couple minutes everyone will start pouring in. The lot of you arrived early to get the best seating-- a little couch and coffee table in the corner, a perfect place to eat and people watch.
“Oh, yeah, uh- Izuku, they have an allergen free option.”
“Well, yeah, but-” He tilts his head as he talks, watching you with those wide, green eyes, like he sees something just below the surface. “It doesn't have chicken-- are you good?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Katsuki fingers a piece of Izuku’s food and pops it into his mouth, much to the man’s dismay. “You’ve been making that sad little face all day.”
You pout a bit harder at that. Shit-- you thought you were being subtle. You haven’t been able to walk this whole Aizawa thing off yet, despite all of your attempts. No amount of emails, meetings, and other petty office bullshit managed to distract you from the absolute shock and humiliation of… whatever that was.
Embarrassment.
Embarrassment? You’re certainly not the prettiest girl in the office, but embarrassing? That makes your gums ache, like a punch to the nose, and it makes you feel dirty, like the fall to the ground afterwards.
“You’re doing it again.” Ochako points to your face and it’s apparently sadness. “What’s going on?”
You hem a bit, before condensing it the best you can.
“I’m having issues with a guy.” What an understatement.
A collective glance is shared between the group.
“Touya again?”
Again, Touya haunts a room he’s never been in. You debate what to say. If you admit to it being someone new, they might start sniffing around and jump to conclusions-- though Aizawa would certainly be the last assumption they would make, you still can’t risk it. Besides, you don’t need a gaggle of 23 year olds dissecting your every move. They’re going to jump to some stupid conclusion, like you’re dating Toshinori, if you aren’t careful.
“Yeah, it’s Touya,” you lie, as sheepishly as you can. “Oops.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that you imagine his brain must hurt. “Again?”
“Shh, just tell us what happened,” Izuku urges, elbowing his partner rather sharply.
“I don't know where I stand with him. It's so-- Ugh, I thought things were going to start going well and then it was just ice cold.” You press your palms into your eyes and sigh. The pressure feels good and helps with the remnants of your hangover. You need an electrolyte drink, stat. Maybe another fucking drink too. “And I’m not even sure why I’m surprised because it’s ice cold a lot.”
When you look up, Ochako is offering a hand, palm up and open. When you take it, she giggles a bit, squeezing gently.
“I think you need to prioritize yourself.”
Denki nods in agreement, cheeks stuffed with food. He’s finished his meal and started stabbing bits of yours. You just push the whole bowl towards him in defeat and slump down into the couch.
“Stop giving men who treat you poorly the time of day.” Ochako says. “When you let them in again and again, you’re basically, like, giving them permission to do this stuff.”
“Yeah!” Denki says through a mouthful. “Cut that fucker off! Don’t even talk to him!”
“Oh, I dunno--” You glance between them. “I think that’d be mean.”
Conflict makes your head spin. It’s so much easier to roll over and take whatever people give you, negative or otherwise. It’s what made your relationship with Touya work-- and it’s what’s allowed you to stay in this job for so long.
“Good!” Denki says. “He deserves it.”
“You deserve to be a little mean and a little angry when people treat you poorly.” She smiles again, wider this time. “Grow some balls. Stand up for yourself.”
“Yeah! Balls!” Denki agrees.
You suck on your bottom lip and turn the idea over in your head. Are you even angry at Aizawa? Or just hurt and confused? Right now, those things may as well be the same thing-- they certainly burn the same in your chest. Cruelty isn’t your usual indulgence…
But it’s someone else’s.
“What do you think?” You turn to Katsuki, who’s been scrolling through twitter for a bit now. His face doesn’t change when he speaks, locked into a general annoyance.
“I think you should kill that fucker.”
You turn to Izuku, the rational one of the couple. He shrugs, straw in mouth and completely unamused.
“Oh, I also think you should kill him,” he says, tone matching Katsuki’s.
Not helpful.
“Listen--” Katsuki leans forward, elbows on his spread knees. He uses a fork to articulate as he speaks. “I���m the expert on being a cunt-”
“-we don’t use that word!” Ochako grimaces.
“And it’s the most freeing and addictive thing you can be.” The tongs of the fork point directly towards you, as sharp as his gaze. “More people should be cunts more often. The world would be a happier place.”
Ochako gasps. “I don’t agree with that at all!”
“Oh please, miss goody-goody,” Katsuki sneers. “You wouldn't need to go to kickboxing five times a week if you let your anger out day to day like a normal motherfucker.”
The girl of the group puffs out her cheeks, but does not argue back. Izuku pats her shoulder affectionately. His food is still untouched, but his free hand guards it from Denki.
“I'm telling you. Try it out. You’ll like it.” Katsuki leans back into his seat. “Or don't. Your life.”
“Question-” The other blonde pipes up. “Did you, like, do something?”
“Kaminari!”
“I mean, like, was there a catalyst?” “A fight or a date or-?”
You know exactly what drives Touya away everytime, but Aizawa is a new beast. Did you breathe wrong or--
“Oh, I uh,” A realization hits you. “I ignored a couple texts, I guess.”
Suddenly, you’re very aware of the outline of your phone and how it presses into your pocket. If there wasn’t a chance of you flashing the group pictures of their boss, you’d check it immediately, but you can’t mentally handle the risk.
“What an overreaction,” Ochako sighs. “Dump him forever and move on-- Mr. Hizashi and his wife-”
“We aren’t like that.” Ugh. You love Hizashi, but the trio relationship isn’t your speed. “Besides, I don’t like blondes.”
The two toe-heads of the group roll their eyes in a practiced synchrony. Ochako’s smile changes a little bit, something tighter and brighter; is she excited that you aren’t interested? Interesting and a bit gross: she’s too young for that. They’re more than ten years older than her-
(How old is Aizawa? He went to school with Hizashi, so he’s at least 38-- but you could have sworn there were whispers of his fortieth last year. You’ll have to snoop.)
“We’re in agreement. Be a cunt, move on. The end.” Katsuki turns away from you, done with this topic. “Izuku, just fucking eat it already.”
The boy takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair. “Well, alright, but if I get hives, you’re the one who has to deal with me.”
…
Be mean.
You’re written it on a sticky note and placed it under your computer monitor, like some sort of fucked up mantra. The mere idea of it feels antithetical to who you are at your core; you enjoy helping people, you love making the world better. That’s why you work like a dog for the company-- you know it’s improving the lives of its customers. If Toshinori wasn’t sick, you know he’d be doing even more too.
On the other hand, being nice has led to your own detriment many times. Touya has hurt you, your parents, and now even Aizawa. And you can’t even blame Aizawa, can you? Texting him was your mistake--
You rest your forehead against your desk. There’s still a sticky spot from when you spilled your coffee yesterday. God, yesterday feels so close and yet so far away. How does a man yoyo between yelling at you, sending you his weiner, then telling you that you’re embarrassing? The idea of ‘always wanted you’ goes flying out the window.
Just as you try and put yourself to work, you hear it. The familiar lopsided stomp. Fuck, it’s him, probably looking for his afternoon coffee. He’s been by much less than usual, a fact you’re very grateful for, so you haven’t even thought about the pot since before lunch. You glance over and see it’s empty. Crap.
As you start to get up, the sticky note catches your eye again. Be mean. That’s right. Why are you popping out of your chair for this, this, this--- total fucking cunt? Your chair squeaks with the force you sit down with. You try to embody Katsuki with your face - furrowing your brow and yet keeping your mouth unaffected-- and your worst nightmare turns the corner.
You keep typing and hope Aizawa doesn't notice that it's the same words over and over again, hit in the same rhythm. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. He waits a long moment, then clears his throat louder. You don't gift him your attention until he grumbles something under his breath, shifting his weight on to his other leg. Just as he begins to say something, you interject.
“I had more important things to focus on,” you lie. “You can figure out how to brew coffee, Mr.// Engineer.”
You throw in that last bit without thinking, but the bite rolls so easily off of your tongue. It’s nothing like your usual tone, but it feels so, so right. From the corner of your vision you can see his literally reel back, blinking hard,
“That’s how it’s going to be?”
You don’t respond. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. Your fingers shake from the adrenaline boost. Ochako was right; don't even give this man the time of day.
“It's going to be like that?” He yanks the pot from its stand. “Fine.”
You have to muster all of willpower not to grin as he starts slamming open the drawers and scrounging around for supplies. It takes a whole ten minutes before he presses brew, then another five before the pot is almost half full. The whole time he grumbles to himself, leaning his whole weight against the flimsy table.
This is good. Too good. The vindictive rush of power feels almost sexual in the way it satisfies. Teeth dig into your lip as you hold back a smile even harder.
Embarrassment? You'll show him what embarrassment really means.
Finally, he pours himself a cup. He doesn't fill his thermos nearly as much as he normally does, most likely trying to leave as quickly as possible. Just as he starts to turn, you get up out of your chair and walk over. You take one of the little disposable cups from the stack and take your time adding three sugars and two cream, each one at a time, as he lurks there. Then, you pour the coffee, thick and oddly gritty into your cup. You finally meet his eye when you take a swig.
Aizawa’s face is set hard, small eyes narrowed even tighter. His lips are screwed up with annoyance, wrinkling his low bridged nose. Pissed would be an understatement. Just as you brace for another yelling match, he turns away, marching down the hall.
“Enjoy the fucking coffee.”
Oh, Katsuki was right. Being mean tastes good.
….This coffee, however, does not.
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𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Summer Glow up: creating new habits 🎀⭐️ *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ!
Hi Dolls!! Welcome Back 2 Dollies 2 Months of Summer Glow Up !! 🎀⭐️ Today im gonna talk all about implementing brand new habits in my life !!
> Hobbies !! 🎀
> Academics !! 📒
> Beauty Care !! 🧖♀️
> Scheduling !! ☀️
> Taking Baby Steps !! 🛼
❤︎ ໋𓈒 Hobbies!! 🎀
…: This Summer I Plan on Taking up Some brand New Hobbies to keep my self busy and learn about brand new things bc everyday is useful!! and so i can use my time more wisely some hobbies i have in mind are…
- Yoga
- Painting
- Creative Writing
- Learning Japanese + Spanish
- Reading
- Puzzles!
- Blogging
- Learning To Code
- Doll Collecting
- Book Collecting
- Sewing + Crocheting
- Digital Art
- Piano
and obvii im already a blogger but i still added it anyways i will watching videos on how to get into these hobbies and videos on learning Spanish and more Japanese, also fun fact i’ve actually been studying Japanese sine 2021 but i stopped bc it got to hard but im starting back up!! anyways, after i watch the videos im gonna set up a financial list bc i have the fund all of these but its okay bc i can easily get money!! 🎀
❤︎ ໋𓈒 Academics !! 🎀
More Goals of mine are to raise my grades in an academic space bc i do have decent grades but i wanna aim higher and have PERFECT Grades so in turn that means i must study more and have more discipline and not so irresponsible with my time!! and i also wanna study subjects outside of school bc its always good to learn something new!! now for learning tips so far i have..
- Flash Cards
- Practice Methods
- Teaching Someone Else
- Trying to explain it to a 5 yr old
- Study a Week Before
- watch ted talks on topics
- SLEEP
- write out notes
Now i Also Have a list of subjects i want to learn about!!
- drawing facial expressions + bodies
- Sewing Stiches + How to Hem and Crochet
- How 2 Draw Bodies + Poses
- Full Anatomy 4 Both Genders
- Japanese + Spanish + French + ASL
- Color Theory
- Learning Cursive + Improving Handwriting
- Expanding Vocabulary
- Religious Cults
- Case and Law
- Poison and Toxicology
- Astronomy
- Medical Surgical Instruments
- Matriarchal Societies
- Socialism Societies
Now i definitely won’t be able to do all of this all at once bc it would definitely we too stressful so im gonna choose as least 2-3 to start with and study them and just learn! 🎀🧁
❤︎ ໋𓈒 Beauty Care !! 🐬
📧: Now I already have my regular beauty care regime skin,hair,eyebrows,eyelashes etc. but im also more focused on getting weekly treatments & weekly beauty care habits like…
- Nails
- Hair
- Eyelashes
- Face Mask
- Hand + Foot Mask
And i wanna try and find people in my city that can do this especially for nails bc i would go to the nail salon but i feel like they won’t be able to do it exactly how i want it to be !!!
❤︎ ໋𓈒 Scheduling !! ⭐️
Now That im gonna be so busy i need to make sure i also stay organized with my time so it doesn’t lead to stress so ill have my regular school classes on my regular schedule then making dedicated hours to studying Things i wanna learn about + Language Learning!
My Workouts are always early morning before school in the evening hours before i got to bed so i won’t have to worry about that affecting my academics. With my Hobbies i feel like only some of them really need scheduling so ill also make time dedicated to those as well !!!!
Beauty Maintenance will probably always be on weekends for the stuff that weekly/bi weekly like face masks,manipedis,hair etc!!
and last but definitely not least!!
❤︎ ໋𓈒 Taking Baby Steps !! ⭐️
This whole process is still all new too me so i’ll definitely only be doing a little at a time and working my way up and i get more familiar with the change in my daily life and i won’t pressure my self to complete everything extremely quickly and just take my time with everything! bye bye dolls tysm 4 keeping up with me while doing this kisses 4 all of u!!! 🎀⭐️
#2sweet2eat🎀🧁#self care#self love#self improvement#becoming her#girl blogger#becoming that girl#prissy girl#girl blogging#itgirl#it girl#glow up#clear skin#pretty princess things#pretty#dolly#beauty#studyblr#manifesting#that girl
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Glasses
A teeny, tiny drabble so that I could participate and do something for @nestaarcheronweek despite my crazy, hectic life. I've always imagined that Nesta wears glasses for work or reading or something, and that it drives Cassian absolutely nuts. I wish I had more time to make this more, maybe some day, but for now, I give you Cassian appreciating Nesta in glasses. 💕
Am I still good to swing by to bring your key back?
Yep! Working from home and have no more meetings today. Come by whenever you want, no need to knock.
Cassian smiled at the words flashing across his screen as he reached the windowed door that revealed the doors to the two apartments in Nesta's converted townhouse. Nesta had already told him twice that he could come by any time after noon today, but he let his nerves get the better of him and he had to check just one last time. Even if he was already on her street.
"How are you already here?" the silky sharp voice of his girlfriend asked, carrying easily down the stairs as he opened the door to her apartment.
Cassian chuckled, closing the door and locking it behind him. "Couldn't get to you fast enough, sweetheart," he called up as he began to climb. It was a steep staircase. And dark. He hated it. Nesta could really hurt herself on it, and that was something he wouldn't be able to handle. Cassian dreaded the day he got a call telling him she'd fallen down these damn stairs.
Reaching the main floor, he set the keys down on the tall table in front of him just as a large, cream furball let out a loud hiss.
"Even after feeding you for a week, you still hate me?" he muttered, bending down to see if Ataraxia would sniff at his fingers. The furry little beast lifted his nose up and sauntered away from Cassian like a little prince. "Your cat is a spoiled brat," he said, walking down the small hall toward where he knew Nesta would be working in her large living room.
"As he should be," she replied.
Cassian walked into the room and suddenly the world felt lighter as he laid his eyes on his girlfriend for the first time in a week. Staring intently at the computer screens in front of her, all he could really see was her delicate frame and the golden brown hair tied back in her typical coronet style.
He took a step toward her, going to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then paused in his tracks as Nesta turned in her chair to look at him.
There, resting on top of her perfect nose, was a pair of rounded-square glasses in a dark frame. They weren't exactly hipster glasses - too small for that - but they were a similar shape that sat perfectly in Nesta's face.
Nesta was always the most beautiful woman in the room, always sharp and stunning and obviously intelligent. So Casssian wasn't sure exactly what it was about these glasses, but they took his breath away. Perhaps he was more attracted to librarians than he realized. Or maybe it was just Nesta, looking absolutely stunning in everything, and adding new fantasies about glasses Cassian never thought he'd desire.
"Wh…what are those?" he asked like an idiot, pointing to her face.
Nesta let out a small laugh. "My glasses? I wear them for work. They're just blue-light lenses, they keep me from getting a headache when staring at a screen for a long time."
"They're-"
"A necessary nuisance."
"-phenomenal." Nesta blushed at Cassian's last word, turning back to the computer screen.
Cassian wanted to riot, just as he always did when Nesta looked away from him. It should be illegal, for him not to be able to look upon her face. But especially now. Who knew wen he'd get to see her in glasses again? He needed to find a way to save himself from this withdrawal, and he knew just the thing. "Don't you get a lunch hour?" he asked softly, stepping closer to Nesta and leaning his chin on her shoulder.
"Yes…" she answered slowly, turning her face to look at him.
He grinned. "Great. So why don't you log off but keep those glasses on and join me in the bedroom?"
Before Nesta could answer, Cassian left a kiss on her neck and sauntered to the back of the apartment, smirking as her heard soft footsteps following him.
If you'd like to be added to my taglist, let me know!
@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @imsointobooks @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @bridgertononmymind @daydreamer-anst @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @hiimheresworld @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @charming-butt-insane @charliespringsleftconverse
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Month 14 - Newleaf
Now that the nausea was behind her, Mystique was starting to enjoy pregnancy again. It wasn’t as nice as the first time, obviously, what with her being stranded in the wild territories away from her Folk, but there were perks. For one, she got her pick of the prey and plenty of it. Whenever Russetfrond would get after her for being “gluttonous”, she would remind him she was eating for three and that would shut down any kind of argument. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed like he was putting in extra hunting trips just for her which was nice.
As well, she had been able to use her growing stomach as an excuse to stop running combat drills with the Clan cats. Despite their attempts to keep it from her, she had inevitably learned about their plans to murder Razor and she wasn’t going to have any part in that. True, he wasn’t a good cat, she had come to accept that, but that didn’t mean they had to kill him. Still, Scorch in particular seemed insistent that it was the only option and she had a powerful hold over Goldenstar, or so it seemed.
Mystique often turned her options over in her head while she sunbathed, trying to think of an alternative solution, one where no one else died and she got to go home as soon as possible. She always came up short. When it came down to it, she was just one cat. What could she do? So she tried not to think about it and focused on getting plenty of food and rest.
Today, she was resting on top of the warriors’ den in a warm beam of sunlight, idly watching the goings on. Oddstripe and Aldertail were sharing tongues in the shade. Scorch finished talking with Goldenstar in hushed voices then joined Pantherhaze, Slatepaw, and Fogpaw as they headed out of camp. The little white tabby jumped in excitement, making Mystique laugh. It was strange to see a cat that looked so much like Ghost moving with that kind of energy instead of stomping around like an old curmudgeon.
The new kitten, Lake, padded out of the nursery and stretched with a big yawn. Aldertail looked up and waved her over with a smile.
Oddstripe grinned too and called, “Afternoon, Lake! How are you feeling?”
“Lots better!” Lake purred, padding over to them. “Those weird plants you gave me helped lots!” She was looking better too. Her ribs were slightly less visible under her fur, her coat glossier. Mystique had never seen a kitten look so poorly before. It was reassuring to see her improving so quickly.
“Aren’t they something?” Aldertail chuckled. “Are you hungry?”
“Oh, yeah,” nodded Lake. “Starving!”
“I’ll grab you something,” said Aldertail, jumping to her paws.
“Gee, thanks miss!” the kitten said as if it were a rare wonder. Oddstripe smiled and pulled the kitten close to give her a few licks around the ears. She giggled and sat up tall to let him. Aldertail quickly returned with a bird from the prey pile and the two adults sat back and watched as the kitten tucked into it voraciously. Mystique caught them glancing at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It made her skin crawl, just a little, which she felt guilty for.
She stood, hoping to get away for a bit and put them out of mind. She noticed Aldertail stiffening when she did, eyes darting over like Mystique was about to lunge for her, claws bared. She groaned under her breath and started out into the grass.
“Uh, Mystique, hold up,” called Sparrowpaw who was on guard duty. “Where are you going?” She’d nearly forgotten he was there.
“For a walk,” she shrugged, “I just want to be… away from here.”
“Well, I’ll come with you,” he said. It was a statement of fact, not an offer. She sighed. He was like a smaller, more pleasant Russetfrond.
“Fine, whatever,” she sighed. “I’m going to the river.”
“Alright,” Sparrowpaw said. “That’s okay.” She lashed her tail.
“I know,” she growled. “I wasn’t asking.” Back home, no one treated her this way. No one ever told her what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. Sure, Razor had jobs for her every now and then but those were things that needed to be done, not arbitrary restrictions on her free time. She was sick of it.
Sparrowpaw blinked in surprise but said nothing - a victory for her. She made her way briskly towards the river, not worrying about her long strides out pacing her smaller companion. Her back was starting to ache and all she could think about was dunking herself in some cool, fresh water.
When they reached the river, she slipped into the water without hesitation, sighing in relief at the sense of weightlessness. She rolled over to make sure all of her fur was doused thoroughly then threw her head back to get the water out of her eyes as she came up for air. She hummed pleasantly and looked over to see her chaperone hovering near the bank.
“Come on in,” she said, jerking her head in invitation. “The water’s great.”
“I’m alright,” said Sparrowpaw, settling down. “You really enjoy getting wet?”
“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s literally the best. I don’t know why so many cats are scared of it.”
“It’s not… scary,” he said, “just really unpleasant.”
“Weirdo!” Mystique called, easing herself down into the shallows to let the water flow over her.
“Maybe,” Sparrowpaw laughed awkwardly. They sat there in silence for a good, long while. Mystique closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun and just let herself enjoy the moment. She tried not to think about home or her Folk or her brother.
“Can I ask you a question?” said Sparrowpaw at one point.
“Sure,” she shrugged.
“Have you considered maybe staying after the kittens are born?” he asked. “Like, joining the Clan full time?”
“No,” Mystique said flatly. “No, I’m going back home the first chance I get.”
“Why?” asked Sparrowpaw.
“Uh, ‘cause it sucks out here?” she said. “You don’t know any better cause this is all you’ve ever seen, but being Exalted is a million times better than living out in the dirt and the heat. I get free food any time I want it. I have a soft bed and lots of great toys and it's always the perfect temperature inside. My Folk give me tons of attention and pets. Have you ever been pet before? It's the best.” She glanced over her shoulder at Sparrowpaw to find him looking unconvinced.
“I haven’t,” he said. “But don’t you think you would enjoy the freedom of living out here? There's satisfaction in hunting for your food and supporting your Clan.” He seemed so earnest, it was almost sad.
“No thanks,” Mystique snorted. “Not interested.”
He frowned. “I mean, if you stayed, maybe you and Russetfrond could stay together. I’m sure that you could make up if -”
“Look, kid,” she rolled over to look at him head on. “I don’t really care about trying to ‘make up’ with Bee Face Mc Pouterson.” Sparrowpaw’s ears pressed back against his head. “He was a bit of fun, nothing more than that. Honestly, he’s not even really my type, I was just bored.”
“O-oh,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. He looked pale. Mystique sighed. Maybe she had been too hard on the poor boy. Or maybe she’d traumatized him with her casual language. Clearly, these wild cats didn’t know how sex worked.
“What I mean to say is, it’s fine,” she said, swiping a wet paw over her face to cool it off. “I’ll have the kits and then go home. He’s happy, I’m happy, win-win.”
“Right,” Sparrowpaw said. “I guess we’ll just have to hope things go well.”
Mystique squinted. “You mean with the plan to kill my brother.”
Sparrowpaw paled further. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I thought you didn’t know about that.”
“I’m not dumb kid,” she said, “plus the camp is small. Sound travels.”
“Right…” He looked down at his paws, tail curling around them. “I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“Why does it?” Mystique sat up a little taller. “Why can’t we just, like, talk to him?”
“Because we tried that,” Sparrowpaw said, looking up at her. “He killed Smokyrose.”
Mystique’s voice caught in her throat in a frustrated lump. “That was… That was an extreme circumstance,” she said. “It wouldn’t happen again.”
“You have to know that’s not true, right?” Sparrowpaw said earnestly. “I mean, he’s your brother. How can you not see what he’s like?”
“You don’t know him!” snapped Mystique, slapping one paw loudly against the surface of the water. Sparrowpaw flinched at the noise and she briefly felt guilty but she shoved the feeling down. “He’s my brother. He’s not a monster.”
“Sorry,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Mystique sighed, a deep frown creasing her face. He almost sounded like Aldertail. It made the Shadow Truth wriggle deep in her gut, worming its way closer to her conscious mind. She dunked her head under the water to try and get away from the feeling but even the cold shock didn’t help much. She sighed, stood, and shook out her pelt, spattering the sand with droplets.
“I think I’m done,” she grumbled and headed back to camp to sulk.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Mystique#Sparrowpaw#Lake#Aldertail#Oddstripe#Newleaf
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IWTV S2 - ANOTHER commercial teaser!? Analysis & EP5 Theories
Lord, I have places to be in the morning, but AMC thinks it's cute to release multiple teasers in a day. 😭
This is a SPICY one for Louis, too! 👀
We start with the familiar "Me n' you; you n' me" from Louis, but we see a teensy bit more of his fallout with Claudia:
Claudia's head is being pushed down into something as she screams.
And thanks to the teaser we got earlier today, we can assume Lou's in the burlap sack the (the night the Theatre jumps him, Claud & Madz).
They jump from Claudia yelling at Louis, to Louis yelling "YOU left ME!" I NEED to know who Louis is talking to--it's a hard cut from Claudia to Louis, but I bet he's talking to someone else.
Cuz of the cut to Armand looking concerned as he calls Lou's name (Merrick?), now I'm thinking about the books, where we know Armand left Louis (in IWTV) for Daniel (in QotD). So is that a Loumand argument? 👀 Cuz I'm telling y'all, I don't trust them in Dubai, and the goat Carol Cutshall already threw shade their way, with the "so-called love of his life" line. I'm side-eying them HEAVY.
And good grief, poor Louis' going THROUGH IT in his dark room.
But the REAL reason I'm posting all this is cuz of this juicy morsel:
😳 LOUSTAT KISSING IN EPISODE 5 FOOTAGE. 😳
AMC, what in heaven's name is HAPPENING!?
Neither Louis nor Lestat are injured here, so does this clip happen:
1) In 1931, right before Claudia came home?
2) Or even earlier, back in 1923, when Loustat was arguing about Claudia's "hunger strike"? Cuz we know Louis wore the same blue sweater TWICE in Ep5.
3) OR, this is legit from the Ep5 fight, while they were upstairs, during the parts we didn't see while they were in the coffin/bedroom?
Was it "over" cuz Louis was desperately tryna kiss and make up? Did it not work, cuz Lestat knew/convinced himself that Lou was playing him--"maybe it's the gin, my love"? Cuz Les is the one to push Louis through the wall.
I dunno, I need sleep. 😫
[EDIT] I'm dead wrong (and blind).
Thank you so much @loustat-0 -- yup, I just saw @squirrellypoo's post explaining that you have to really crank up the lighting to be able to tell that this is Louis' jean jacket from Hallucination!Lestat we've seen in 1000 other trailers, NOT the blue sweater from EP5.
Thank GOD, cuz I went to bed just DREADING what people would start saying about Ep5. 🤦
#interview with the vampire#louis de pointe du lac#justice for claudia#loustat#loumand#iwtv tvc metas#the hype is real#videos
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━━━ 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑒. a.h
warnings 𑄽𑄺 6.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, murder mystery, aki is a chef, oral [ f + m.], sneaking away, marijuana use, praise, fingering + finger sucking, aki's tongue is pierced, sexual acts happen quick, mentions of depression, brief mention of emotional/physical abuse, reader is desperate for help/attention, parental neglect, grooming, minors aren’t allowed.
━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; another old piece of mine i never fully finished and now posting yrs later!
“okay, i'm out!" aki is shouting as he tosses his white chef coat over his shoulder, book bag on the other, the cool breeze of spring blowing through his raven hair the minute he opened the tall glass door that led to the front of the restaurant. his friend, also a coworker, is busy, in the mix of gathering dirty dishes and clearing trash bins but still sends him a farewell, a quick, 'see ya tomorrow. good job today!' till he's off to his bus stop. he was thankful he got out early, just before five in the afternoon meaning the sun hadn't set yet.
he sighs, extremely worn out, in dire need of a steamy hot shower and a greasy pizza while laying in the comfort of, finally, his own apartment he worked entirely too hard to gain. the commute to his place in brooklyn, new york became rather annoying due to rush hour traffic at this time. having to take the bus then switch to the 'n' train, hopping off and walking fifteen minutes until he finally reaches his destination. his second goal was to afford a vehicle to save him money instead of wasting it on expensive monthly metro cards.
aki's lived here his entire life, growing up in the bronx, not much different. he loved new york, but not their uppity expenses. the fact that he's paying nearly two grand for a 600 square-foot apartment with no in-unit laundry nor a gym at that, was nonsensical. did he want to reside here forever? yes. he'd feel homesick if he ever were to leave. having the opportunity to travel seemed like a much better alternative, that way he'd still have his home but be anywhere in the world doing what he loved, and that was cooking. aki hayakawa was twenty-six years old, earning his master's in culinary arts at the culinary institute of america, also known as the C.I.A.
his ultimate dream was to open his restaurant, which he would name after his tragically deceased mother. a terrible accident in which he dreads the memory of. falling endlessly into a black hole, hearing nothing but the sound of his own fear, the breaking of his bones when it interacted with brick interior, the feeling of his heart thumping excessively against his chest as he continued to drop deeper like a rock that was chucked down an empty well. this emotion he knew all too well; failure. when he lost his mother, it felt as if the world crumbled beneath him, malicious dark vines slithering up to grab him by his ankles and pull him down a bottomless pit of nothingness.
he tasted the agony, the anger, the sadness, and even the hate from the fact that she was gone and never coming back. countless tantrums, anxiety attacks, and depression summed up the apathy of it all. it took him six years to realize that drowning in pain would never help him gain the strength that he knew she wanted him to have. by letting her witness the pain he was going through from above, he was hurting not only her . . but himself. so to overcome the tragedy, he kept himself busy with cooking. going to school, earning his degree, and the current job he had with his best friend since middle school.
school was probably the greatest thing he'd ever done to reinvent who he was as a person. cooking is a delicate yet challenging obstacle to undertake, yet, it's so therapeutic to him. the nature of it all, being able to witness what he can do for many people, bring laughter and happiness—it's a beautiful thing. when aki was small, he and his mother would give back to people all the time. whether they were donating clothes to the homeless, or feeding small pigeons pieces of bread on a sunny day as they flew to the gray pavement, awaiting a feast. they always cared about others. they would experiment a lot, going to food markets just to come home and whip up a good meal which they would then donate to the less fortunate. that's when he learned how humble he felt to give back to those in need.
he wanted to show his mother his achievements, to push himself and become a world-renowned chef, just like gordon ramsey—without the aggression. he wanted his name plastered on articles for his extraordinary talent, talked about on tv, in fact, given his own cooking show on foodnetwork. aki grew up watching that channel, an obsessive enticement his mother could never break the young boy from. he was making recipes at the age of twelve, and learned how to cook at eight. eggs were the first thing, usually everyone's first, then as time progressed, he grew from simple pasta dishes to revitalizing gourmet meats, and anything french. just recently he schooled himself on how to create wine. every day he learned something new, and that was the beauty of culinary.
"hayakawa! come here!" star yells as soon as she sees the tall man emerge through the front door, ready to start his morning shift, raspy voice laced with slight panic, instantly making the man run to her out of worry.
"what's wrong?" he furrows his brows.
"look who just fucking walked in," she grabs his bicep, pulling him closer to the front counter. aki curiously follows where her finger points, seeing a slim man with black curly hair dressed properly in a white and black suit. silver and sapphire rolex on his wrist, his pale green eyes scanning through the lens of his glasses at the menu while he sips his water. expensive.
"i have no idea who that is," aki blinks, making star gasp.
"he's alexander bodari, one of my favorite authors of all time. remember the novel i told you i was reading, about this girl who was kept in this lunatics basement and almost murdered?"
aki's eyebrows raise. "the book dylan bought you for your birthday, right?"
"yeah! that's him. oh my fucking god, i'm so nervous, whew," star begins to fan herself, nearly having a breakdown. aki grabs her shoulder and chuckles.
"chill out, star. you don't have to serve him if you don't want to."
"of course i do! i just. . . can't," she frowns.
"you can, you've done it many times before. this isn't the first celebrity we've come across."
star sighs, nodding. "you're right, i can do it."
"good girl," aki smiles, patting the top of her head. star catches his wrist and scowls.
"fuck off."
"aki," another voice calls to him, this time it's the head chef, also known as his boss. aki greets him with a small, 'good morning, chef' before waiting for his response.
"i'm guessing you know that alexander bodari is here," lane says, arms crossed over his broad chest. aki nods. "i want you to cook for him."
aki and star share a glance of shock.
"uh, why me. where's dylan?"
"he's not feeling well so i gave him the day off. you're the only one here that's near his level, and he's a higher-up man, so i want you to cook for him. star will cater to his needs. we're kinda short-staffed today, and i trust you two will handle it properly."
"yes, chef," they say in unison.
star was only a waiter, working here for four years while aki earned his position two years into her time. the last thing the woman could do was cook, ironic since she worked in a restaurant with very talented people. lane would've asked her in a heartbeat if she was as skilled as aki. aki was known for making dishes at the top of his head, so if anyone asked for a special, he was the one to ask. before they began to serve anyone inside, aki gave star a small prep talk before sending her out. eventually, she got through with taking his order without stuttering or sweating. when she walked back into the kitchen, actually shoved the doors open with a joker smile on her face, aki cocks his head at her.
"you—"
"he wants your special!" she screams, doing a goofy dance, and skipping in her spot.
aki's face drops. "are you deadass?"
"yes! when he was looking at the menu, he saw your four courses on the back and chose your mom's stew! fucking a, man!"
aki is still frozen, weakly giving star their signature handshake, smile slowly easing onto his face. "my mom's stew? seriously?"
"yeah. chop chop, get to it."
aki was persistent. no one's ever ordered his mother's stew, which made this day very special for him. even if the dish was only on the menu for a month, it still meant a lot to him. he made sure there were no distractions, taking a tender chuck roast and cutting them into cubes, seasoning them well while throwing in worcester sauce, balsamic vinegar, garlic cloves, bay leaves, and beef broth. making a slurry with flour and water to thicken the stew. adding onions and potatoes. it was a simple yet fulfilling dish he looked forward to every sunday.
"deep breaths," star whispered as she carried the steaming tray of stew plated professionally on a porcelain oval-shaped bowl. in a way, it felt like she was telling not only herself but him. it's a rarity that people order his courses, and serving this to an author, a bestseller, a man worth millions, made him giddy. he was cheesing like an idiot, pushing star out the double doors to the dining area.
although as soon as she walked out, that's when doubt clouded his gut. did he put too many seasonings? is the meat tender enough? what if he doesn't like it? will he write about it on his author blog? god, he hoped the potatoes weren't hard. he had only tasted the broth, it tasted just like his mother's. what if. . .
"aki," star walks back in, an even wider grin on her a-symmetrical face this time. he blinks, realizing that he's been standing here for three minutes now. "he wants to see the chef."
he's dumbfounded. "me?"
"no, lane. yes, you!" she's squealing like a girl, and sometimes he forgets she is one, even underneath her blunt features and boyish sense of style.
he's clearing his throat now, strolling mindlessly towards alexander bodari's table, greeting himself and waiting for his constructive criticism.
"you're aki hayakawa?" the man questioned, lifting his glasses back onto his face.
"yes, sir."
"i just have to say," alexander chuckles, softly clapping his hands. "this may be one of the best stews i've ever had."
the tenseness in aki's shoulders relaxes, and he's sighing with relief, alexander noticing and laughing. "i'm really glad to hear that, sir."
"did you create this on your own?"
"it's actually my mother's recipe. it's my favorite. every time i make it, it reminds me of her."
"that's really ironic because this reminds me of the stew my mother used to make," he grins. "yours is the first that i haven't seen carrots in."
aki laughs. "my mom hated cooked carrots."
"mine did too," he fixes his collar. "is this your restaurant?"
"no, no. i'm just a cook here. i plan on opening my own soon. i already have my master's."
his brows raise. "wow, that's amazing. wow old are you?"
"twenty-six, sir."
"well, you're definitely going places," he compliments and aki feels even more satisfied. "say what, i'm having this pre-book release, about a hundred guests. i was wondering if you would like to cater the party. i'll pay you however much you want."
it's like the whole world collapsed on his chest. he'd never gotten an opportunity like this, especially this big. to cook for so many famous people at once was a blessing. he could really show off his skills if he took this offer . . . and did. after thanking him, exchanging contacts, and then handshakes, aki lets the man finish his meal before jogging back into the kitchen to scream about it to aki, lane, and the rest of the crew. alexander offered star to come along to serve, but unfortunately she couldn't, seeming as she'd be out of town for family matters that day.
alexander, of course, knowing she was a big fan signed a copy of his book she already had in her bag and letting her know she could help the next time he had an event. that made her happy enough. the two of them couldn't wait to finish their shifts today, taking the train to star's place and planning dishes all night, even cooking them to get them just right. alexander was hosting the party at his penthouse down soho. and aki had a week to prepare himself.
୨♡୧
cashmere sweaters, silk gowns, and jewelry that most likely cost more than his savings account roamed the lovely terrace of alexander bodari's home. every inch of it screamed filthy rich. rows of tables were set outside, the dark night sky making the moon shun brightly amongst the glass centerpieces filled with calla lilies and moss. white cloths, sterling silverware, and porcelain dinnerware. the terrace itself was elegant; freshly cut bushes trimmed as squares, a marble three-tiered italian water fountain placed in the middle. roses, dandelions, tall plants ranging from bamboo, snake plants, and pothos. alexander was very in touch with nature and his spirit. it's crazy he writes about the things he does.
speaking of, the book he was presenting that would be released in august was titled, 'to riven a magnolia.' he wouldn't quite reveal what it was about yet, wanting it to be a surprise, but did read an excerpt from the novel. aki only paid half attention, big words throwing him off plus he wanted to set the food table properly so guests could take what they wanted after his reading. aki didn't go all out since only seventy-two people were available to make it, and he didn't want any meals that would make anyone too full to converse, so he kept it simple yet exquisite. each guest received a slice of japanese fluffy cheesecake with a side of strawberry and mandarin orange tanghulu. beef wellington, and a six-sided cream garlic bread.
he received praise all night long. people gasping and thanking him for the food, giving him all sorts of compliments making the man blush like a child. at one point he held both sides of his face in his palms when a woman and her husband approached him to talk, way too shy, and the woman flirting with him didn't make it go away. eventually, her husband dragged her out of his sight. the night went on, classical music played as people sipped their champagne and talked about their wealth, their yoga classes, their thousand dollar dogs, golf, marketing . . . aki hopes he never becomes this way.
as he's pouring an elderly lady a glass as she rambles about baking, he notices a woman he's barely seen all night. he's disoriented, eyeing this girl leaning up against a vintage roman painting reaching the ceiling once the lady departs. brown eyes; the first captivating part of her body he captured. they appeared lonely, bored perhaps as they scanned through the crowd of people, soon landing on another pair, his own. the godly woman stared at him longingly. aki had no business nearly losing his shit under her gaze. wow. she was truly stunning.
one feature that stood out the most were the freckles scattered from the bridge of her nose to the swell of her cheekbones. pretty. her black hair styled protectively in butterfly locs that grazed her collarbones, seeing the industrial piercing hiding behind a piece. her lashes were long, naturally extended. heart-shaped lips were full and pouty, the upper lip brown while the lower, salmon pigmented. an emerald satin mini dress loosely clung to her alluring brown skin. cowl neckline, ruched waist, and an open back partially revealing the red dragon tattoo painted on the side of her hip. black suede gucci heels strapped prettily around her ankles, showcasing her white painted toenails. a three layered gold necklace on her chest. this woman, you, were the rationale of celestial.
it was the moment you smiled at him, tilting your head slightly to the side while tapping your ombré acrylic nail amongst the glass of your champagne, calling to him while he thoughtlessly followed, that aki would realize he had made one of the worst mistakes in his life.
"you're pretty."
it's the first thing you say when he walks towards you, offering a piece of cheesecake with a cheeky smile. aki is taken aback, chuckling nervously, palms already clammy the minute he approached you.
"pretty?" he's perplexed.
"that's what i said," you say, taking the gold fork from his palm and cutting a slice to taste, widening your mouth while maintaining eye contact. the man swallows.
"uh, i've never gotten that before. thank you."
you're too busy eyeing him to say a thing. even if he dressed in simple black skinny jeans and same color tee, a silver necklace tucked beneath his shirt, sable combat boots, and a white apron around his waist . . he looked damn good. his eyes were blue, somewhat smoke gray, dark hair long and straight, the top half tucked into a small messy bun on the back of his head. a few loose strands swaying around his cheekbones. he was tall, shoulders broad, forearms and hands slightly veiny. you gazed at his hands holding the plate for you, wide and rough, fingers long.
"you don't seem to be enjoying the party," he says, knocking you out of your daydream.
you hum with displeasure. "he's a fake."
aki furrows his brows. "sorry?"
"alex, he's unoriginal. most of his novels are stolen by people he pays to keep quiet," you side-eye him while downing the last drop of your champagne, slowly licking your lips. his eyes flicker there for a split moment.
"how do you know?"
the question makes you quiet, tapping your glass. "think of it like this; everyone starts off as a cocoon. eventually as time goes by, we evolve into butterflies. the cocoon represents our innocence; the purity and unawareness of what's to come in life. once we sprout into butterflies, we become tarnished, facing the real world and learning to adapt to its cruelty. life can be beautiful, but it's always painful no matter how happy or dismal we are. it's our choice to fly in the direction we want for ourselves even when the harshness of life beats us down. butterflies only live for so long. we disintegrate after inhumane amounts of stress, loneliness, or tragic events that take a toll on us, removing the power of staying beautiful. we show beauty to the public but don't feel it when everything around us is falling apart. but we can't make life harder on ourselves by dwelling on what we can't have rather than pushing for what we can have."
aki is speechless, half-understanding what you meant. "are you saying alexander is a butterfly that can't fly?"
"he's more like a mosquito, latching onto those who want to sprout into a butterfly but sucks the nutrients from them for his pleasure. he's a fraud. he'll never be a butterfly because he simply can't."
"did he steal from you? is that why you resent him?"
"no," you bluntly state, although aki doesn't believe you.
he takes the fork from you, cutting you another slice before holding it towards your lips, waiting for you to bite. you looked like you needed it. the drowsiness in your eyes may have indicated that you were tipsy. you giggle, shaking your head before he feeds you, your big eyes captivating him more. "is there something you want?"
"you."
aki nearly chokes and he's not even the one eating, your bluntness throwing him in a spiral of emotions.
"am i beautiful to you?" you lean closer, aki swallowing, scanning his surroundings. most of everyone remained in the living area, the two of you far behind a wall near the glass door of the terrace. he could smell your scent better, a sweet smell of caramel. soft skin shimmering with glitter.
"very."
"so what's stopping you? you got a girlfriend or somethin'?"
"n-no, it's just. i barely know you."
"that's part of the thrill," he watches as your small wrist turns and your palm is flat outward. "come upstairs with me."
like any man would, his feet walked on their own, stupidly following behind you up the black marble staircase, hand in yours as his eyes watched your hips switch.
"what's your name?" that should've been the first thing you asked, idiot.
"[♡]."
"i'm aki."
"i know who you are."
that's right, alexander introduced him to everyone after his reading right before supper. things felt like they went too quickly. aki didn't know who he was at this moment, completely floating out of his body and letting you take over like a spell. he was entranced. one thing leads to another, you're locking the door to one of the four bedrooms here. aki's sitting on the bed while you walk around, talking to him more about anything. his age, his aspirations in life. nonsense, basically. until he notices something.
a room with an open bay window revealing the late-night city of new york, stars in the sky, skyscrapers high. the breeze is warm, the air making the fabric of your dress rise just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the pink thong you wore. he's gulping, your legs shifting and a grin coming on your face as you see the tint of red blush across his cheeks. you're leaned against the window, toes pressing into your other foot, a gold anklet with the first letter of your name clasped on your skin. your shoes were off, and in between your two fingers sat a blunt, maybe about three inches now since you were too busy talking, letting it burn away.
once you flick it out the window, you fully turn to face him, sharp nails skidding up your thighs teasingly slow until the hem of your dress rises fully, and he's staring at the belly button piercing you have. your thick thighs, your curves, and your nipple when you moan and lift your arms to stretch and one of the straps falls down your shoulders.
"oops," you're pouting, and aki's had enough. he got it now. he understood why you wanted him to come up here. the liquor buzzing in your veins, and going straight to your clit like a drug. you wanted him the moment you saw him. you needed him, for more reasons than one.
aki was always one to put a woman's pleasure before his own. so when he saw you drop to your knees to crawl towards him, dainty hands trailing up his clothed thighs until you're undoing his belt and he's biting his lip. . . he was drawn in further. pulling him out of the confinement of his jeans, holding his pulsating dick in your hand, darting your tongue out, and pressing it flat to the aching head. he's squeezing his eyes shut when he's deep in your throat after a while, moaning around him and twisting your hand along as your mouth glides. his hand is in your hair, gathering some of it in his large fist while leaning back a bit to see those gorgeous eyes of yours stare into his, slightly watery. he liked that. he liked you.
"nnn, baby. like that," he's throwing his head back, jaw slacked as he tried to keep his voice down, not daring to let too much slip out regarding the guests below them. eyes back on you, he's watching as your hips gyrate in the air, desperately needing to be touched.
it's so foreign, this level of intimacy. it's been so long since he's had his dick buried deep in anything. sure, he masturbates like any other human being, but it's a rarity. he's so consumed in work that by the time he goes home he's knocked out in slumber, not even thinking about grabbing his fleshlight to fulfill his pleasure. the last time he had sex was at the beginning of his freshman year of college. it was some girl in his cutlery class who invited him over for late-night drinks, leading to more than just that. it was frequent until he realized he was failing courses because of the distraction and had to get back on track, so, he called it quits.
now he's pulling you up, feverishly pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss, lips smacking, tongues bumping. you're keening when his thick fingers clasp around your throat as you straddle his waist, clinging to his shirt you eventually pull over his head. it's as if the both of you forgot that people were here and might hear you, but neither of you cared. aki's not even scolding you when you're moaning too loud the second he has you beneath him, your clothing still on, barely, and his jeans and briefs clinging to his ankles, your knees to your chest as his hot mouth latches around your puffy clit, back arching off the plush mattress.
the metal from his pierced tongue rushing against you as he holds the back of one of your thighs to keep them up, grunting and swallowing your arousal. you're whining so much it has his dick twitching, pulling on his hair not helping either. you're rocking your hips with urgency, legs twitching after he lifts his head to spit, collecting his saliva with two fingers before curling them into you, holding your stomach down while he shakes his fingers. that alone has you convulsing around him, tears in your eyes as you whimper his name and squirm helplessly, his lips kissing your inner thighs.
coming down from your high, aki's already propping himself behind you, turning you on your side while he laid on his, leveraging your head with his forearm underneath your neck, fingers in your mouth you suck while glaring at him. he curses, monotoned voice rasping, "don't do that."
"do what?" you hum, wrapping your lips around them again and moaning.
aki clenches his jaw, lifting your right leg to open you up before slipping inside, hearing you gasp as you adjust to the stretch. both of you groan in unison, turning your face to the side to kiss him while your nails clawed at his hip, then his ass as he rolls into you, too horny to be gentle and snapping his hips hard against your ass, grunting, "i heard you, girl," and drilling faster. your eyes scroll to the back of your head, aki swallowing the breath out of you as he sucks on your bottom lip and chokes you, the two of you whining in each other's mouth, muffling the noise although the skin interaction didn't cease.
he's brutal, a different person when in this form of bond. dropping your leg and reaching between to rub at your clit, heavy breaths on your neck as he hides his face there. you can easily smell the citrus scent of his shampoo, his scent overall a main attraction when he stepped toward you. . . like lavender. when he's nearing his climax, he gropes your chest, slurring, "be a good girl and cum all over me, baby. can i feel it this time?" and you nod, doing just as he says, his taunts and praises making your gut swim with butterflies.
you try not to scream as he licks and bites your neck sloppily, dazed. instead, you grab a pillow nearby and stuff part of it in your mouth, aki's face hovering over you as tears leak from your eyes and you cum hard, harder than you ever had. aki holds you close by your waist, taking a few more pumps before he furrows his brows and slowly pulls out, cumming on your flush skin with a hiss. by this time, his hair had fallen down his face completely, and even in your fucked out state, you reach up to rake through it with a lazy smile. aki chuckles, kissing your forehead before building the strength to find a cloth to clean you up. luckily, there's an en-suite bathroom, giving him access to warm water and toiletries.
fixing his posture in the mirror, he's rubbing his face and adjusting his clothes to appear as he did when he arrived; neat and professional. although what he just did wasn't so classy of him. he fucked some woman he barely knew at a millionaires home. work, he was working. not here for personal pleasure. he wanted to slap himself for being so easily enraptured. no one had to know about it. he only hoped not a soul downstairs heard what went on.
he's good to go, done scolding himself and turning off the bathroom light before stepping out. he finds you perched up, sipping a miniature bottle of crown royal you found in the bedside mini-fridge, sniffling your nose and blankly staring out the window. aki comes forward, gently grasping your thigh and gliding the wet cloth over your skin, the silence awkward.
"dandelions.”
aki's eyes slowly drift to your face, staring in confusion. "what?"
he notices how eerily slow tears built up in your eyes, gripping the bottle harder before exhaling. "dandelions," now you're finally looking at him, the coldness on your face making him anxious. "that's where his body is."
your voice is like vanilla. it's one thing about you that he grew infatuated with. it's one of the many reasons he was captured by you, brought to where he was now. standing at the bedside as he watched tears pool down your broken face. body? what body? he grew cold, nervously eyeing you as you sniffled, standing to fix your hair, dress, and walking around the bed to slip back into your heels.
“wait," he goes to grab your arm when you try to walk out the door. "what the fuck are you talking about?"
the deadness in your eyes scares him even more, and he's panicking when you say, "alex."
“alexander?!" he shouts, dragging you away from the exit, hands on either side of your shoulders as he eyes you, his own wide. heart pumping drastically. "what did you do? where is he?"
"by the dandelions on the terrace," blunt, again. as if you aren't phased at all by his reaction. "follow me."
he's stunned, unable to fully process what you were telling him. he already assumed the worst when the term 'body' came to light. though his heart raced heavily in his chest, his feet blindly dragged in your direction. cautiously watching your every move in case he had to protect himself. fuck, he didn't have any weapon. then again, he's sure he could easily handle you, knock you out if he needed to. lock you in a closet and alert the hundreds of guest just below their feet. that's right, there are still people here. and if you mentioned alexander, how the fuck and when the fuck did you have the time to . . . kill him?
"[♡]," he began to speak your name, but your head was in the clouds, ignoring anything that came out of his mouth as you cut into a passageway that led to a grand master bedroom, then facing the terrace you spoke of. he was nervous, your neck turning to eye him as you step onto the gravel, blankly staring down at something. he couldn't see from where he stood, matter of fact, he didn't want to see.
"he's here," you say. "he's here."
aki has no choice but to advance forward, wanting to squeeze his eyes shut from the upcoming scare of a human’s body. and not just any human, the alexander bodari. a flaccid arm sticks out from beside a bush, palm facing the sky, details of a struggle bruised into his hand as the skin in the area seemed peeled. aki’s heart drops the closer he gets, hand covering his mouth as he stares down at the lifeless body laying in a pool of blood. the aluminum wire draped around his neck stained with blood gave aki the answer he needed when it came to the cause. you strangled him to death. the question remains; who are you and how were you affiliated with alexander? most importantly, why’d you kill him?
“i don’t understand,” is all he can get out.
“the proof is in his first novel,” you utter, and he’s still confused. “the story about the woman who’s trapped in the psychopaths basement? it was about me.”
aki couldn’t grasp the thought of you being the woman from the novel star always talked about. that you had been the victim of his story. that it was a real life phenomena. that he met you, slept with you, and now you want him to, what . . . cover up a murder in a house filled with two hundred guests?
“he painted this image as if he was the most prestigious man on the planet. he made money off of real events. events that played out by torturing me, and using me to get his ‘creative juices flowing.’ he needed a test subject. he was a sick man who deserved to die,” tears pour down your face, the anger in your tone thick and pent up from years of pain and sorrow. “he was my father’s partner. my father despised me simply because of my resemblance of my mother and my rebellion against him. when he died from heart failure, in his will, he married me to alex.”
“that’s fucking. . . sick. i didn’t think that was possible in this day and age.”
you scoff with agreement. “yeah. he watched me grow from a preteen to making me his wife. sick bastard for sure.”
aki wants to vomit from this information. still unable to wrap his head around any of it. his hands sit on his hips as he stares up at the sky and blows a raspberry, try to keep his nerves together. you watch him with sadness, and maybe regret. you weren’t intentionally planning for this to happen. though part of you wanted someone to save you. to see the real you and rescue you from this torment.
“i know this is probably the last thing you expected to happen. i apologize for dragging you into this. i just didn’t know what else to do. i felt hopeless. and i refused to let his popularity run by making another fortune of a sick novel.”
“did he attack you?” he asks.
“he didn’t,” you clarify. “i think i just finally snapped. granted, tonight of all nights wasn’t the correct setting.”
aki makes a face that reads ‘fucking clearly’ as he rubs both palms down his face. he doesn’t know whether to run and call you insane or feel sympathy for a victim. but, murder is murder. and now, standing here with you, that’d make him an accomplice. as scary as that was, he couldn’t risk his future career. but he was stuck in a pickle. he wanted to help you.
“there are clear signs of struggle, so we have to make it look like an accident,” aki suggests, but immediately, you shake your head in disagreement.
“they won’t believe that. he’s one of the wealthiest men in new york. it’ll be a huge investigation.”
“then the only answer would be to tell the truth,” he finalized.
“the . . truth?”
aki nods, pulling you toward him and stepping away from the body, chills still going up his spin and goosebumps on his arms. “listen to me, you can tell the world exactly who you are and what he’s done to you. you have proof. transactions, marriage certificate, i’m sure there’s documents for days in his computer that can prove what he’s put you through. there’s evidence somewhere.”
“and if i tell the world, who’s to say they’ll believe me?”
“i believe you,” aki says. your eyes fill with hope, and thankfulness. “people will have their opinions, but we know the truth. do you have anyone else that can be your alibi?”
you think long and hard, until it hits you. “the maid. she’s been working for him ever since i moved in after my father died. she’s fed me, helped me heal wounds . . even get rid of his unborn child i lost after too much stress.”
“jesus christ,” he bows his head in disbelief. “where is she now?”
“luckily, the kitchen. the woman with the braided red hair. she promised me she’d always protect me. after his book succeeded he became nicer to me, gave me a ‘real’ marriage. she was like his mother, always scolding him when he raised his voice at me or wouldn’t let me live my life. it’s all so depressing.”
“okay. it’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” aki comforts you as you begin to sob once again, cradling your head in his chest.
the night ends in the blink of an eye. aki takes you into another room and wraps a blanket around you as you sit on the edge of the bed and wait for the police. he finds the woman you spoke of, pulls her to the side and informs her of the tragedy above. she herself looks relieved. not at all shocked by what played out, as if she knew you’d go through with it. aki guesses he truly was a horrible man. and to think he would’ve worked for him in the future. the police arrive shortly after the woman goes to check on you, insuring that everything would be okay, and that she’d stick to the full story. the police instructs everyone the leave the premises, aki being questioned for a full hour, this home becoming a crime scene, and all of their faces full of black ink on the daily news the next morning.
aki will never forget the chilling smirk on your face as they removed alexander’s body from the terrace. it was . . haunting.
#𑄽𑄺 ━━ ꒰ 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 .ᐟ ꒱#aki hayakawa smut#aki smut#aki x reader#aki hayakawa#aki x you#aki x y/n#aki hayakawa x reader#aki hayakawa x you#aki hayakawa x y/n#csm smut#csm#chainsaw man#aki csm
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Slade heard the shouting first. Not many people ventured here, Slade had managed to secure himself a prime position in exchange for being one of the Arena’s best gladiators. A cell that was more of an apartment, most all the luxuries he wanted, food and pretty slaves and good fights. He’d killed the last master who’d ordered him to lose a match, and his new one had learnt that lesson well.
There was little more that he needed from life. Talia knew that a content gladiator was a loyal one, and unlike her father, she’d cultivated that loyalty well.
“Please—Talia—stop—” a younger voice on the edge of desperation, and at least three sets of footsteps. Slade straightened off the bench and moved towards the front of his cell.
“You know better than that, Richard,” Talia’s voice was coldly amused, “You lost a fight to one of mine, and the Arena voted life. That means I own you now.”
“Bruce will buy me back!” the voice insisted stridently, “Talia, please—”
“I find myself not exceedingly fond of my beloved at this moment,” Talia said dismissively, “And you will serve far better as a gift.”
“No—”
The footsteps reached the front of his cell, the curtains drawn back to leave only open bars, and Slade watched as his owner stepped into view, poised and calculating as always. “Slade,” Talia smiled, eyes dark and satisfied, “How are you today?”
“Well,” Slade replied noncommittedly, far more interested in the struggling figure pinned by two guards, “I didn’t realize I’d earned a gift.”
“This particular one fell into my lap,” Talia’s smile grew wickeder, “And I have no need for a gladiator that loses fights, so I might as well use him as a favor.” That was when the struggling figure jabbed an elbow into the stomach of the guard to his left and made a break for it.
Unfortunately for him, the guard recovered quickly, and made a sharp swing of his staff at the bandages that wound down one leg. The unfortunate gladiator crumpled with a strangled shriek.
“Come now, Richard,” Talia said, her expression twisted with distaste, “At least try to lose gracefully.” The guards yanked the limp figure off the ground and dragged him closer to the bars, and the spark of interest at the familiar name coalesced into sharp coldness at the sight of tan skin and dark hair. Locks of it draped across that bowed face, as though Slade wouldn’t be able to recognize the man that had killed his son.
Talia read the simmering fury across his face. “He’s yours,” she said softly, watching him, “To do with what you wish, for however long you wish to keep him. His fate is yours.”
Richard Grayson made a barely perceptible sound.
Talia moved forward to unlock the cell and waited as the guards dragged Grayson closer before snagging the young gladiator’s chin. “Your master needs a reminder on what happens when he spites me,” she murmured, “Your body will do quite nicely.”
Slade couldn’t see what Grayson did or said, but he saw Talia’s fingers tighten, nails biting into skin, before she let go and stepped aside to let the guards throw Grayson inside the cell.
Slade didn’t move. Not as the guards retreated and Grayson pushed himself up to standing. Not when Grayson pressed himself back against the bars, fingers tightened into fists as the click of the lock echoed in finality. Not as footsteps receded, out of sight and out of hearing, as the beaten gladiator cowered in the corner.
Grayson looked gray. His expression was fractured and his clothes were dusty and torn and he had one arm pressed to his chest in a way that indicated either an injured arm or broken ribs. Possibly both. The other arm was tensed, ready to lash out, despite him wavering on his feet. One leg had bandages from calf to thigh.
More than all that, he looked small. Exhausted and trembling and gaunt, like someone recovering from an illness, nothing like the snatches of the golden favorite of the Arena that Slade caught from time to time. Not too many, no one was stupid enough to let Slade and Grayson in the same room, and especially not the kid’s previous master, but Slade remembered watching his son bleed out on the Arena sands as a sweaty, bloodstained, gleaming young gladiator lifted his dual swords to a wave of cheers that shook the entire stadium.
It wasn’t something he could forget.
“Who knew that the little bird would fall,” Slade said, low and cold, stalking out of the shadows. Grayson pressed further into the corner but there was nowhere to go, blue eyes flitting around the cell like something would save him. “You must’ve heard the story of the boy who flew too close to the sun.”
“Slade,” the kid’s voice was passably level, eyes wide and locked on him, “I—I’m sorry—”
“Sorry?” Slade arched an eyebrow, “Sorry that you killed my son? Sorry that you built a career that started by defeating the Ravager? I didn’t see regret when you stood over my son’s cooling corpse, I saw triumph.” Grayson swallowed, expression fracturing further. “You’re only sorry that you’re locked in here with me.”
“Slade—”
He didn’t give Grayson a chance to spout off pretty words—apparently he had a talent for being charming, a talent for making friends. There were a group of them, young, puffed-up gladiators, that fought on the sands like it was their own. Excellent, trained fighters. And cocky and arrogant to boot.
Slade had always hoped for the chance to meet Grayson on the sand. To have the fight he’d been itching for for years.
This was almost as good.
Grayson ducked at Slade’s telegraphed punch, pushing off the bars and twisting past Slade to stumble deeper in the cell. Slade turned to follow him, noting his unsteadiness and adjusting his speed accordingly.
The fun was in playing with his food before he destroyed it.
Grayson was talented. With dual short swords in his hands, and preternatural flexibility, he had gone undefeated for years. He was masterful at twisting out of the way of strikes, all speed and deadly grace, and even with an injured leg he kept his balance well.
But he was unarmed, his right arm was clearly paining him, and he’d looked ready to drop even before the fight had started. Even drawing it out, it wasn’t long before Slade grabbed his wrist from a poorly executed punch, and wrenched.
The kid went down with a choked gasp, clutching his shoulder as he landed hard on his knees. Slade gave him three seconds before slamming a kick into his side—the kid made a harsh, punched-out sound and toppled over.
“Pathetic,” Slade noted, standing over the panting young gladiator, “The golden Nightwing, lying broken in the dust. A fitting legacy of a boy that tried to fly too high, too fast.”
Grayson set his expression into a snarl and tried to lever up. Slade ground a foot into the bandaged leg and Grayson collapsed with a strangled sound, trying to claw away.
“If only Grant could see you now,” Slade murmured, “He had a talent for humiliating his opponents.” What his son could’ve done with a broken bird at his feet—but Grant had been cocky, and Grayson had been smart, and Slade had to watch from the stands as his son gurgled out his last breaths.
Grayson stared up at him with a facade of defiance, half-curled up on the ground. “Spare me the monologue and just kill me already,” the kid snapped, his snarl unable to hide the waver in his tone, “There isn’t an audience to entertain here.”
Cute. Slade would take great pleasure in watching that break.
“No, there isn’t,” Slade agreed, and reached down to haul Grayson to his feet and shove him back into the center of the room. “There’s no one to entertain here.” He smiled, slow and sharp. “Just me and you.”
The mask of defiance cracked, and for a moment, the only thing in Grayson’s eyes was terror.
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Prompt 28 - Dogwalker Au
@wolfstarmicrofic April 28, word count 785
Remus relished his daily walk through the little park beside his house. It was a good way to blow away the cobwebs and stretch out his aching muscles from being hunched over his desk for the last eight hours researching.
Sometimes, when he was too tired to walk, he’d just sit on one of the benches and people watch. He liked to make up little stories about them. Like today, there was a red-headed mum pushing her son around in his pushchair. She’d had a long day fighting off the evil wizards that plagued this land and wanted to ask the fairies to protect her son. But at what cost? He thought to himself, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of his made-up world.
He spotted a pudgy man who was grasping his briefcase to his chest, his eyes darting this way and that. He was clearly a spy and was on his way to divulge key information to his boss. Remus couldn’t quite decide if he was going to the good or the bad guys, but before he could come to a conclusion, a flash of long curly hair caught his attention, as a man so beautiful Remus instantly decided he was a siren with legs, raced across the grass after a huge black dog.
“Come back Pads!” The man yelled as he tripped over his own laces, falling over. He jumped back to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of grass and dirt before lunging forward again after the great beast. They soon ran out of sight, only the dog’s playful barks letting Remus know he was still on the loose.
Remus groaned as he stood, his joints popping and creaking as he set off back to the entrance. He’d gone maybe two or three paces when his feet were suddenly not beneath him. He landed on the stony path with a loud thump. Pain instantly sped up his back and he winced until it ebbed. “I am so sorry!” He heard the man calling as his heavy boots clumping towards him.
The dog, hanging its head a bit as though it knew it had done wrong, came and lay down next to Remus, dropping its huge head into his lap.
The man got to him, breathless and hugging his knees as he drew in lungfuls of air. “I. Am. So. Sorry.” He said again between breaths. He held up the snapped lead. “He chewed through it when I wasn’t looking and took off. Normally he’s really good, but today, I honestly don’t know what got into him.”
Remus had barely heard what the man had said, he’d been concentrating on the way his full lips moved around the words.
“Hi, I’m Remus,” He said, wanting to introduce himself. The man blinked at him and then grinned.
“Hi, I'm Sirius and that clown is Sir Paddington the third or, as I like to call him, Oi come back!” Remus looked down at the now calm dog and patted his head gently.
“Well, hello, Sir Paddington.”
“The third,” Sirius prompted.
“The third.” Remus smiled as Sirius manoeuvred himself beside Remus. He looped the handle end of the ruined lead through the dog’s collar and slid the lead part through it, fashioning a new restraint.
“There, I might actually be able to get you home now.” Sirius chastised the dog. He yanked the lead to get the dog on its feet and then offered a hand to Remus, who was still sitting on the ground. “Can I help you home first? Get you a coffee to apologise?” Remus shook his head and pointed at the house across the park.
“That’s me there. No coffee shops in between, I’m afraid.” He joked. Then an idea sparked in his mind. “But you can come and make me one if you want.” The man and his dog intrigued him. The siren with legs and his furry pal. Perhaps he’d sung a song to enrapture Remus and that’s why he’d offered. Remus put aside his silly stories and waited for Sirius’s answer.
“Yeah, go on then.” Sirius grinned. “Can this one come as well or should I take him home first?” Remus thought that Pads probably didn’t get invited to many places due to his size.
“As long as he doesn’t eat my books, he’s more than welcome.”
“Hear that, Pads? I think you just made a friend.” Sirius scratched his dog behind the ears.
They walked the short distance to Remus’s house, chatting and getting to know each other. Remus and Sirius spent many afternoons after their first encounter walking Pads around the park, though Sirius had bought a metal lead now, one that Pads couldn’t chew through.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar fic#wolfstar au#remus lupin#sirius black#remus john lupin#sirius orion black#sir paddington the third#lily evans#harry potter#baby harry potter#peter pettigrew#remus x sirius#sirius x remus#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#look out remus#sirius learn to tie your damn shoes#bad pads heal#is sirius the little mermaid? Its a possibility#dog walker au
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✨Chris Sturniolo Headcanons✨
For Black Girls✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿
💋 Chris loves black girls
I’m sorry but in my head Chris prefers black girls. Like Atlanta Georgia black girls… thick, dark, dressed to the nines, hair done, acrylic nails 💅🏽💅🏾💅🏿absolute fucking queens. Like I don’t describe Y/N in any way but best believe if it’s a Chris fic she’s black to me.
💋 He sees fucking hates racists
This doesn’t actually need to be said but I figured We’d get this out of the way first. Chris definitely listens to you when you talk about race issues so he knows all about micro aggressions. He always notices them and stands up for you every time. “Baby, if anyone says that shit to you again I’m gonna catch an assault charge!”
💋 He owns silk sheets
This man most definitely would buy a full set of silk sheets after you sleep over his house for the first time and he notices you brought your own satin/silk pillowcase. He doesn’t realize it’s for your hair until he surprises you with them the next time you sleep over and you tell him. “Oh, I just thought you were being bougie.” Then he buys more sets of them because he decides to throw away all his cotton sheets.
💋 He learns your hair care routine
Chris is the only white person you trust to touch your hair. He makes taking care of your hair into a really loving and intimate experience. If you’re in the bath he adds epsom salts, sets up candles, and does a bunch of stuff to set the mood. “You have any music requests, Mama? If not I’m probably just gonna put on the sexy time playlist.” He sits out side of the bath and takes his time washing and conditioning your hair making sure to detangle and section it the way you taught him. He does the same thing when you’re in the shower except he stops occasionally to pull you close and feel you up. “Come here, Baby. You’re so fuckin’ pretty and you smell so nice and clean. I just can’t resist.”
💋 He sits with you when you’re getting your hair braided and brings you snacks
Before your appointment he packs you a lunch bag full of snacks for the both of you because of course he’s coming with you. “Alright, Baby, we’ve got Doritos, McDonald’s chicken nuggets, and a shit ton of candy. We’re all set to go.” If you think he’s not gonna come when you’re gonna be in the chair unable to get away from his yapping you are sorely mistaken. He’s always keeping everyone entertained and happy. “What’s up ladies! You have any tea for me today.” It’s just him feeding you snacks and having silly conversations with you and the person doing your hair. If you ever show up to your appointment without him everyone misses him.
💋 He pays for your acrylics
He insists on giving you the money every two weeks because he’s just “helping to keep his princess feeling pretty” He also likes to help you figure out designs and themes nails. He sends you random texts with nail inspo all the time. “I know a zoo theme seems extra, but let me cook, Mama!” I’m certain that he makes you get a C for Chris on one of your nails every time you get new set. This probably isn’t exclusive to black girls but like as a black person who gets their nails done I like to go all out on the designs and shit gets expensive.
💋 You convince him to wear a durag
He only agrees to do it one time in the house. You use the situation to teach him its use and significance in black hair care. It takes him a few tries and you have to demonstrate it a lot but eventually he is able to put it on correctly and he looks super cute. Not cute in a “this is a good look for you” kind of way, but in an aww “the little white boy is engaging in cultural appreciation” type of way. “I think if anyone saw me like this I would get cancelled.”
Taglist
Masterlist
Idk if people put their tag lists on headcanon posts??? Pls advise
@daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @rafecameronsbitch @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @chrattstromboli @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15
#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#chris x reader#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x you#matthew bernard sturniolo#nick sturniolo smut#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets smut#sturniolo triplets x reader
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Velvette x reader: Angel's adopted sister 1/?
Warnings: Valentino being a jackass, potential smut in the future
You parked your little black car near the V tower and made your way inside. You were always a little early picking up Angel Dust. Party because his schedule was a mess and a little bit because you loved watching Velvette work her magic.
"I should be done here in 40 minutes unless Val decides to be a dick."
"Okay, I'll be there soon."
It didn't take long for you to see Velvette getting annoyed at one of her models, but she somehow always found a few minutes to talk to you.
"Ugh, do none of you know anything about posture? There are children with better posture!" She said before she saw you. "Everyone take a break. And don't fucking get anything on those dresses!"
She walked up to you and grabbed one of your hands. Dragging you out of the doorway. "Y/N, doll, you got here at the perfect time. These models are driving me crazy!" She gave you a hug, and you both sat down on the new couch she brought
"Would you ever want to be a model? You're gorgeous and way smarter than at least half of these girls." Her compliment made your face as pink as her hair. You knew she didn't say things like that often.
"I never really thought about it. Do you really think I could do a good job?" Velvette smiled at you. "Y/N, I know you can." You heard your phone vibrate.
"Val must be sick. He's actually letting me leave on time. "
"Okay, I'll be right there."
Velvette wrote something down and handed it to you. "Here, think about it and call me when you can." You smiled and took the paper. "Thanks, Velvette. I'll talk to you later. "
You took the elevator to Val's studio and found Angel Dust. "Alright, let's go back to the hotel before your shitlord boss changes his mind again." Angel already had his stuff with him, and you guys took the elevator and quickly made it to the car.
"So, did you get to see your girlfriend today?" Angel said jokingly. "She's not my girlfriend. We just...talk sometimes." Angel gave you the, "Come on, you and I both know what you think about her." Look, and you started driving to the hotel. "I just want you to be careful. Don't let your guard down around any of the Vees."
There wasn't much traffic for once, and you got to the hotel pretty fast. "Huskers!" Angel yelled, running for his grouchy boyfriend. "Hey baby, me and Nuggets missed you." Said pig ran from behind the bar to meet his dads.
You sat on the couch in the lobby for a little while, barely paying attention to some movie and adding Velvette to your contacts.
Y/N : Hey Velvette, it's Y/N. Text me when you get a chance.
A few minutes later, you decided to go to bed. Your room was a decent distance from anyone else, so nobody would hear you taking a shower.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, you woke up to a text from Velvette.
Velvette: Hey doll. I know Angel has to work today (Valentino won't shut up), so I was wondering if you wanted to take some photos today? Some of these models are driving me crazy! - ♡
You had thought about it, and at the very least, you'd be able to keep an eye on Valentino since he never stopped bugging Velvette. And, modeling could be fun.
Y/N: Yes, I would love to. I'll be there when I drop Angel off.
Velvette: Can't wait!
After breakfast and getting ready, Angel kissed Husker goodbye, and you headed to VVV tower.
"Do you want me to go in there with you? I hate having to leave you with that rotten jiz rag." Angel Dust pulled into a hug with all four arms. "I'll be okay, sis. I'm used to him. You said you'd see each other later, and he told you to be safe.
He made it to his dressing room and sighed after closing the door. You weren't Molly, and you could never replace her. But Angel didn't know what he would do without you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part two will be out soon!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#vivziepop#vivziepop hazbin hotel#velvette x fem reader#velvette x fem!reader#velvette x reader#velvette x you#velvette x y/n#angel dust#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust x husk#angel dust x reader#platonic angel dust x reader
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Q: Among those decisions is to be the last 1D member to make your solo career, and today we are here with "Faith In The Future" that sounds 100% yours. Looking back, how do you see your path has unwinded?
Louis: I feel very comfortable. The mentality I have now feels very different from the one I had when I started this journey as a solo artist. I feel very blessed to be able to continue making music. But it's also a very nice feeling and it's something very new for me to feel so comfortable on stage and so comfortable when I'm making the music I want to make. In general, yes, I am very happy.
Q: Louis, I imagine there must be some time in your career when you said, wow, I did it!
Louis: You know, I used to resist that idea, ‘cuz for whatever reason, I don't know, I never wanted to give myself that, I suppose… my brain, but… I have, I have started trying to have those moments more for myself. It often happens on the live show. It can be something that fans did together, like some kind of fan project. But also, even when I played the festival just now, in Mexico, that was one of those moments. I was kind of nervous going out there, and the audience was so vast, but people seemed to be having a good time. So yeah, it was great.
- Louis Tomlinson interviewing with La Cuarta in Santiago [4.4.2024]
Full print interview (translated from Spanish)
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Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 4
This is Halloween, Halloween, Halloween
Bob: Costume time! Okay friends and fans, it’s time for our Halloween special, who wants to make a pumpkin pie with me?
From beside Bob the droid chirps to indicate that people are tuning in.
Bob: As you can see I have chosen to be a rebel pilot today. I’ll be keeping this on for the bake and my bake sale but something tells me the boss would not approve of me turning up to work in it. Okay let’s run through all our ingredients
The drone chirps while Bob begins preparations. Eliza’s suggestion to get the drone may have stemmed from a place of wanting the flashiest one but Bob appreciated having a set of eyes he could look at when he talked.
Bob: Ugh, kneading, not my favourite part after I’ve already done a workout but hey, that’s on me
He continues to narrate his baking, even getting the drone to read out a question or two that viewers have sent in about the recipe. In the end he pulls one excellent pumpkin pie out of the oven, a perfect Halloween treat.
Bob: Come one, come all to Bob’s Bars! We don’t just have our classic beloved lemon bars today, we have cake and cookies for the sweetness you want on Halloween. If you’re having all that sugar, may as well get full eating it!
The first few customers seem unimpressed with Bob’s selling today but when some new sims walk up to purchase suddenly decide maybe the baking isn’t so bad.
Fergus: Hey Onyx could you- woah! What are you
Onyx: A knight obviously. I see you’re going with the classic skeleton
Fergus: No point fixing what isn’t broke. But could you please help me with my bike? Dad’s busy with the sale and I don’t want to interrupt mother when she’s practicing her speech
Onyx: Sure, I can try. Hop on and I’ll try explain, remember I only just learnt how to ride before my birthday
Fergus: Oh yeah, that’s right
So Fergus wobbles his way around the yard with Onyx doing their best to provide guidance.
Bob: Alright folks, my shift will be starting soon. Who’s going to be customer of the day and buy the last lemon bar?
Harvey: Hello. Do you have bake sales often
Bob: Why yes I do sir
Harvey: How convenient! And do you get positive reviews
Bob: Indeed I do
Harvey: Well then person I’ve never met I would like to buy the last lemon bar
After Bob makes the sale Harvey tells everyone around him how good it is while Bob packs up. It’s good to have friends.
Eliza greets the first trick or treater and offers them some candy. The kid leaves happy and Ginger comes out of the house very confused.
Ginger: *whines* What’s going on
Eliza: Ginger sweetie it’s just me, it’s just mother. Here let me give you a brush
Ginger: *barks* you may not look like mother but you definitely smell the same
Then it’s dinner time for the Pancakes left at home.
Fergus: Dad left us roast! Awesome
Eliza: Onyx will you be able to eat in that helmet
Onyx: I could ask you the same question. But I won’t, because I’m a good kid who deserves a horse
Fergus: *laughs*
The trio chat and eat while Ginger looks on. Sure she has biscuits in her bowl but that looks like real meat on the table. Why won’t they feed her that?
Onyx takes care of the dishes and Fergus decides it’s time for Ginger to learn another trick, playing dead. Mustering his drama skills he does his best to show her what to do, but she remains skeptical of the exercise. Fergus keeps trying though and eventually Ginger catches on, rolling to the floor.
Fergus: You did it! Well done Ginger, we’re stars
*doorbell rings*
Eliza: Onyx could you get that one
Onyx: Sure mother
They open the door to the deck candy all prepared and are greeted by a teen girl dressed as a maid.
Zhafira: Trick or treat
Onyx: Uhh… what
Zhafira: *laughs* I mean for me
Onyx: Oh, right. Have some candy?
Zhafira: Why thank you
Onyx has just decided they should ask what high school the stranger attends when she turns and skips off down the drive.
Carson pops over to visit and become best friends with Onyx!
Onyx: Where’s your costume
Carson: I’m dressed as someone who doesn’t care about Halloween
Onyx: Your loss. Hey, have you seen a girl at school?
Carson: There are many girls at school
Onyx: I mean a specific one, she’s a brunette with a bob cut
Carson: You don’t know a name
Onyx: She left pretty quickly, but she was cute and I wondered why I hadn't noticed her before
Carson: People keep aging Onyx, so more teens. But sorry I don’t really find many people cute at our school so haven't noticed
Onyx: You said that last year. But if you know you’re bi you must have been attracted to someone once right
Carson: I mean, it’s going to sound stupid...
Onyx: You’re my best friend, sound as stupid as you like
Carson: I mean I’ll find a guy or girl pretty but my daydreams are usually romance filled instead of woohoo filled
Onyx: Huh. So are you like, anti-kissing
Carson: I don't know, growing up is confusing
Onyx: You’re telling me
Previous ... Next
#sims 4#the sims#the sims 4#simblr#my sims#ChangingPlumbobStorytime#R0904#OnyxPancakes#FergusPancakes#BobPancakes#ElizaPancakes#HarveyFoster#CarsonFoster
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I’ve been stuck in a purgatory of having to get my groceries delivered for like two months which of course means the big grocery stores only, and no trips to the market and it’s been SO expensive
I was finally able to go to the market today, and I’m so pissed because I got so many veggies for such a smaller price it’s so annoying. the veg are the same cost as they were pre covid which means the grocery stores are gouging and increasing the cost of living of their own volition
which we kind of already knew, but still :<
#but in good news I was able to go today and#they had ponegranates that I could afford! I’m gonna make syrup and I’m gonna make granola with it#*pomegranates#they also had a cool plum that are a pretty rose colour#and apples#because they’ve been so expenive at the grocery store for some reason? weird
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