#which is actually exactly what she deserves
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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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More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:
-> Appreciation
Yes! Tell 'em, Nagi! It feels more sweeter when you remember that this happened before they verbally resolved everything.
I mean, obviously, it's pretty stupid to fight with your own teammate for the ball in such an important match, but it's so heartfelt to see Nagi be like, "Reo did all that for us! Do not let Reo's efforts go in vain!"
Aww.
-> Green Flag + Green Flag = Greenest Flag
I admire Isagi's parents so much. I love them so much. I pray to God every night that after my reincarnation as Nagi's Choki, I'm reincarnated as their daughter because they are exactly the kind of parents every child deserves. God bless them.
-> Silent celebration
No matter what you say or feel about him, he will forever remain the OG Dad of Blue Lock.
I just know that he was so proud of his team. Yes, yes, he told Anri to stop crying because she was making it look like everything was a miracle, but it only means that he believed in the team!!! Given his personality, someone like him putting his trust on you is the best things that could ever happen.
And you guys remember that he was able to tell at once that Chigiri was unhappy being benched? I understand that he is a cunning man, but to see him call out to Chigiri to do some kind of indirect wellness check on him was his version of going the extra mile.
You getting me?
-> Moonmin
The sweetest boy in existence. Oh god! He is so precious.
I just know he gives the warmest hugs known to mankind. He is just too precious. The big boy everyone deserves <3
Blue Lock Fandom, please give him loads of love.
-> Gang Gang‼️
It's maybe the low quality, but they all look so goofy. Like, they all look so adorable.
I remember chuckling at these panel when I first saw them—it was a pretty crucial moment in the match and, then suddenly the focus pans on them which is so un-serious for no reason at all.
Lil guys.
-> Two idiots
You know, unlike what he tries to make himself look like, Barou is actually so effortlessly goofy. Like, he is so.. random??????
I mean, this dude just does and says literally anything—I can never take him seriously.
If I were a Blue Lock-er, I would've definitely befriended him just so that I could slap his ass and run. Like, he just seems like the perfect guy you can irritate without getting bored!
.
.
.
There will be more posts like this because of the 10/10 image limit.
Here's part 1.
#blue lock#bllk#nagi seishiro#isagi yoichi#ego jinpachi#tokimitsu aoshi#niko ikki#otoya eita#bachira meguru#barou shouei#雪 ranting
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oh boy, now that chapter 17 is posted I can talk about some of the extras that I want to write in full at some point! since that’s rather far off in the future (and probably a lot of work when second-hand alibis still has its own Incredible Amount of Work left), have some quick and dirty snippets/ideas of what they might look like.
first one is a "su xiyan lives" spin-off:
exactly what it says on the tin. shen yuan makes a deal with the system (which would have to be somewhat less strict in this scenario) or he gets his hands on a macguffin or something and manages to make it to the luo river in time to help su xiyan through luo binghe’s birth and save her life afterwards
that, then, leaves them both desperately injured with a (somewhat unhappy) baby in the middle of winter when huan hua is undoubtably searching for them and their only allies probably think shen yuan and su xiyan betrayed them
shen yuan has the bright idea to lead them down the river to the washerwoman who was luo binghe’s adopted mother in proud immortal demon way. she’s kind enough to take them in, softened immensely by the baby and by how injured and grief-stricken shen yuan and su xiyan are
shen yuan and su xiyan slap up every (subtle) barrier and disguise and warding talisman that they can possibly think of to help hide them from any huan hua searchers, before collapsing from the expenditure of energy. shen yuan possibly uses his altered-but-no-longer-untested body-stasis talisman on su xiyan, who is predictably Not Amused by the recklessness of shen yuan having used this on himself, but it gives them more time to handle the poison while also allowing su xiyan’s qi to replenish itself and hold off the effects of the poison trying to kill her while they find an actual cure for it (assuming shen yuan's macguffin/system deal wasn't enough)
they both heal. they help around the house as much as possible, and gift the washerwoman with as much money as she’ll take from them, which is far less than she deserves for all the kindness she’s showing them. eventually, they’re healed enough to begin moving again, and they judge that it’s likely too dangerous to stay this close to huan hua any longer.
before they go, though, there’s the matter of tianlang-jun. they debate for days—is it too dangerous to try and check on him? do they think zhuzhi-lang was sealed as well? what happens if they’re captured by huan hua? what will happen to binghe? (yes, luo binghe ended up with the same name as canon. shen yuan only suggested the “binghe” portion of the name, but su xiyan came up with and ran with the “luo” portion of it, because it’s far too conspicuous for a child to be running around with her surname, isn’t it? shen yuan, twin brother of shen qingqiu, keeps his mouth shut.)
in the end, they decide that they’ll take their chances now, while there’s still enough chaos and confusion from the end of the battle + setting up how the guard on tianlang-jun is going to look long-term for them to get close. better yet, if they can find zhuzhi-lang, then they won’t even have to get all the way to bailu mountain.
whatever happens, it ends up being a bit of a mess. zhuzhi-lang is not happy, but shen yuan has spent years being one of his favorite people, and both he and su xiyan are still moving pretty gingerly when they manage to find him. in the end, zhuzhi-lang believes what they tell him about the betrayals committed against them, too, and agrees to carry the news to tianlang-jun (and plead their case, should he prove unwilling to listen).
after that…su xiyan and shen yuan beat feet out of huan hua territory, taking binghe (and possibly the washerwoman!) with them to live a life as rogue cultivators. cue years of sneaking back into bailu forest to visit zhuzhi-lang and tianlang-jun and try to figure out the best way to help tianlang-jun escape. shen yuan helps zhuzhi-lang get ahold of some sun and moon dew mushrooms, but warns that unless they experiment wildly and are also exceedingly lucky, the mushroom body will fail pretty quickly with a demon inhabitant instead of a human one.
I imagine that this au would either end up as a su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan throuple, or zhuzhi-lang might finally shoot his shot with shen yuan and actually get somewhere with it. I lean toward su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan, just because there’s only so many times you can pretend to be married with a child, spending literal years working toward a common goal and in close proximity and with shared fondness, before you fall into an actual relationship. tianlang-jun is on board with this when it’s explained to him—shen yuan is great! (the wife-beam strikes again, it just took a little bit longer with tianlang-jun because he was so focussed on su xiyan)
also it’s deeply funny to imagine shen yuan reuniting with shen jiu (+ yue qingyuan) and cang qiong mountain sect and boldly gesturing toward binghe and declaring, “this is my son.” yeah, this carbon copy of su xiyan, with eyes that are notably not hers or shen yuan’s? suuure. the other peak lords aren’t going to argue, though, because shen qingqiu looks way too willing to fight them (read: yell at them) about it, and that’s almost never worth it. plus, like, what do they care?
shen qingqiu, notably, doesn’t believe that luo binghe is shen yuan’s biological son, but apparently he is shen yuan’s adopted son (son by marriage?), so it’s really all the same thing. he’s doing some math about the tianlang-jun situation (as is yue qingyuan) and not liking the answers that he’s come up with, but if shen yuan wants to keep the child, then let him. better to allow a half-demon on his mountain than to lose his brother again.
shang qinghua is losing his shit in the background. you did what with my protagonist’s parents?! my cabbages plot!!!
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Can you imagine if the Vinsmokes gained their emotions back when Sanji saves their lives at WCI, but it kinda hits them all at once, so they become massively attached to Sanji.
21+ years of familial love for their brother smacks them in the face, only for them to find out Sanji has REALLY over protective boyfriends in ASL who monopolize Sanji all the time (this can be the gods au or just regular ASL+S)
Gods can you imagine the guilt? Not only just all that love but the guilt, shame, embarrassment, and horror at what they've done. Reiju just watching them and Ichiji asking her why she never stopped them, how often she helped Sanji after what they did? He needs to know and the answers 'i didn't want the attention ' and 'not enough' rip through his chest like niji's lightning.
Sanji's gone, with his crew and they've only just escaped Big Mom's pirates and her prison and everything so they're not exactly primed for the real world. But without Germa and being free means they need to find their own way. So uhh, they guess first things they'll go find Zeff and thank him? And they do. Zeff and everyone is confused about the apology/thanks combo they're getting. Especially because it revolves around Sanji and Germa. Zeff is ready to kill them all but Patty says they can work for their forgiveness and puts them in the dishpit.
It's good for them, they're working through a lot of things and Zeff keeps making them push back against him verbally. They're...healing, but they need more but at least they're also developing some skills that can help them in their pursuit. Over time, maybe about a year ish later they decide to find Sanji. To go apologize, they won't ask for forgiveness, it's not something they deserve but he needs to their regret, their sorrow, their change. For them to be like him like their mother wanted. Maybe their skin is no longer metal, still extremely durable but they can be bleed.
Following the Strawhats is a challenge and Zeff warned them about it though. He gives them his lot of the Grand Line, a log post, and demands letters. They agree as Reiju stays with Zeff. As they set sail Zeff tells them to not be afraid of Sanji's boyfriends, they'll understand eventually! Which makes Niji ask the hell that means to no response. It takes a few months but they're doing fine. Mostly.
The New World is a bigger challenge than they expected but when they catch up the crew is fighting Marines and it's all an out assault from both sides. Ichiji says they should attack the Marines so they do with their powers and uhhh, is that a guy with three swords coming after them? Oh shit it's that Roronoa Zoro guy! Fuck!
Yonji is trying to calm him down while evading him. Ichiji and Niji are still focusing on actually fighting the Marines who start to retreat and the fire dives down so Luffy snaps onto their ship with a rubbery twang and pure anger and Nami, the hot chick they remember is there on a cloud. Right. Okay. They can do this!
"You broke the agreement so we're going to sink your ship!" Luffy yells at them in warning.
"We want to to apologize to Sanji." Ichiji says evenly.
"I'll see if he even wants to talk to you after what happened." Nami growls as the cloud takes her back. They get a signal to meet at the ship. Not to board, so it's kind of awkward with the height differences between the ships. Luffy and Zoro jump up onto their ship as Luffy slings an arm around Sanji with a cowboy guy who is glaring viciously at them.
"Speak your piece and get the fuck away!" Sanji yells at them.
"Were sorry! We are not owed forgiveness for anything!" Yonji starts.
"That's not an apology." The cowboy says.
"Oh, Sabo's going suuuper to love this." The robot says.
"Ah, do you want us to say? We don't know what you told them and don't want to cause more problems." Ichiji asks.
"Start with the cuffs." Luffy demands.
"Cuffs?" A few voices ask.
"Sorry we let Judge put those on you!" Ichiji says with a wince.
"Sorry for our childhoods!" Niji yells. "And electrocuting you with that plate in your back, especially. And calling you a failure after you got shot."
"Wait-" Zoro tries.
"Sorry about the dungeon?" Yonji tries which flummoxes the rest of the crew except Sanji.
"Oh my God they're going to die." Nami says.
"Zeff says you should write more, he's kind of been doing the whole push back thing he did with you? Reiju's still there." Ichiji says.
"Alright, I'll write to the fucking geezer but if I see any of you before I come back to Baratie I'm not who you have to worry about." Sanji threatens.
"Just one?" Luffy asks.
"Nah, let Sabo deal with them." Cowboy says. "Zeff is more likely to forgive him."
"Doubt that, lets get the fuck outta here, I need to start lunch." Sanji says walking away from the railing. With the crew chattering after him. When the brothers get home a few months later there's a blond guy talking with Reiju and Zeff and smiling politely with another orange haired girl beside him.
"Don't threaten them too much." Zeff warns.
"I would never sully this fine established like that." The blond says with mock offense.
"Don't sully it with blood either." Zeff stresses.
"Of course not! I'll do it elsewhere and no one will know." The blond smiles at the chef. "Bye guys!" He chirps, grabbing a pipe from the floor and leaves with the other girl who mimics slitting her throat at them with a smile as she skips out the door.
#black leg sanji#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#portgas d ace#vinsmoke sanji#revolutionary sabo#cat burglar nami#answers#acesan#sanace#lusan#sanlu#sabosan#asl+s#they all date!sanji
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hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍
i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞
Unusual affection
thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3
word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive
You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.
So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…
that is one gorgeous man!
“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.
“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.
“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.
“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.
He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?
Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.
You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”
“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”
You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”
A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”
Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.
Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.
“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.
“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.
You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”
Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.
The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.
Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.
“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.
“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”
Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.
“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”
Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.
Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.
“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”
Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.
“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.
Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.
masterlist
#ask-mp4#hq#haikyuu#haikyu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#hq oikawa#oikawa toru#oikawa
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You are not Entitled to Sex
Society has made massive strides in allowing women to be sexually free, the most important of which being the development of effective technology for contraception and female reproductive health, as well as the large-scale social destigmatization of public displays of female sexuality. Although this societal transformation is only just getting started, we are now at a point where women in Western countries can dress how they want in public without getting judged (for the most part; misogyny still exists but more and more people are taking a stand against it). We are at a point where women can have sex without having to worry about getting pregnant. As such, the downsides of sexual promiscuity have been eliminated, and women are no longer required to constrain themselves to a monogamous relationship in order to have sex. They are free to have sex with whoever they want without being forced to settle for a man who will actually dedicate himself to a long-term relationship.
And we are all familiar with the main result of this sexual liberation: a small minority of hyper successful men get to experience the vast majority of sexual encounters, and if this is not you, then you either remain a completely sexless virgin, or you have to fight for crumbs of attention from older, less attractive, or “ran-through” women who don’t respect you and will cheat on you in a heartbeat. After all, women fantasize about sexual encounters with hyper successful men, and in modern times they are free to act out this fantasy without having to worry about whether the man will stick around or not. We as a society have outgrown the “ideal” from ancient times of a 1-1 male to female pairing where sex is practically guaranteed to anyone willing to commit to a relationship. Now, your mere willingness to commit to a woman does not make you worthy of sex. Society is now embracing the fact that not all men are meant for sex.
For many men, this is a tough pill to swallow: that just being a good guy with a decent personality does not mean that you are entitled to sex. It can feel quite frustrating when you see women in public dressed in a way that flaunts their sexuality, but you also know that this display is not for you. Furthermore, any attempt you make at flirting or trying to make a sexual advance on these women is met with extreme social blowback. Who do you think you are? Trying to “pick up women?” They’re not just sexual objects for your disgusting pleasure, perv. Learn to respect people’s boundaries. Women should be able to exist in public life without getting harassed by lonely horny men who think their provocative outfits are an invitation to disturb them. The toughest pill to swallow is the fact that yes, staring is harassment, and if you get caught making a woman uncomfortable with your inappropriate glances, you deserve to get kicked out of whatever place you’re in, and you likely will.
“But she’s asking for it, right? With what she’s wearing, she’s advertising her sexuality on purpose! How am I supposed to completely avoid looking at her or getting an erection/orgasm?”
By learning to be an ally to women instead of a misogynist. Learn to have empathy. Does she want some creep approaching her and asking if she’s single? Or would she rather you keep your head down and mind your business? Yes, in modern times there are lots of beautiful women showing a lot of skin in public. You must learn to control yourself around them. If that’s too much for you to manage, you don’t belong in public at all.
“But then how am I supposed to meet a woman? When I approach them in public, it’s like they can smell the virginity on me, and they always reject me. And I can’t secure any dates online either. What am I supposed to do? Just respect their decision to reject me and stop creeping them out with my unwanted advances?”
Exactly. We aren’t living in the 1900’s anymore. Just being a nice, respectful guy doesn’t give you the right to sex. The men who get all the sex have been doing so since high school. They have very large social circles, which function almost like a funnel that brings them more women to fuck, thereby increasing the scope of their social circle even further. They have social media accounts that illustrate their social dominance. After all, it’s 2024 and one of the main ways people meet their hookup partners nowadays is through Instagram DM’s or dating apps. There certainly is a positive feedback loop causing the male social elites to have sex with more and more women, whereas for a male virgin, one reason women avoid him is specifically due to his lack of experience, thus perpetuating his sexlessness.
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#beta boi#beta virgin#beta bitch#beta captions#virgin humiliation#pathetic loser#loser humiliation#virgin loser
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short hair laudna fans rise up
#shoutout to my dear twitter mutual @ beaujes for putting this idea in my head#and now everyone on twt seems to be jumping on the short hair laudna train#which is actually exactly what she deserves#how do i contact marisha ray about this#laudna#laudna fanart#laudna critical role#imogen temult#imogen temult fanart#imodna#southern gothic#critical role#critrole#critical role fanart#cr#campaign 3#fanart#digital art#procreate
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oh sm entertainment downfall is really happening as we speak that's crazy
#this is nothing exactly new#bc we have been seeing a lot of their long time artists#ending contracts and going to other companies#and now someone anonymously on a forum that allegedly works for sm#said the company has been a mess#a lot of staff is leaving the company#they said that the company is failing to protect both artists and staff#and they said that the kwagya 119 thing is just for show#bc they don't actually do anything which is like.... something we all have noticed LOL#but having confirmation of this is crazy#also the fact that boa has been vocal about receiving harassment#and saying she is gonna retire and sm not doing anything abt it#like... all of these things just explain why sm is making insane decisions#when it comes to basically EVERYTHING#this downfall is deserved i just fear for the future of the groups under sm#and also the trainees that are there too#but for the company itself... this is just karma working idgaf this is what you get bitch#tris.txt
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hi last time i scoured court records dot net for all the official gay lawyer content i could find i somehow missed the maya page of the fanbook but i found it today and. height difference franmaya where they're both short queens but maya is an even shorter queen CANON
(for the americans and fellow brits who use both metric and imperial depending on the situation, 154cm is about 5ft and 162cm is about 5'3.5" which i have been losing my mind about for months bc that is my exact height i AM franziska von karma)
#i have known for so long that franziska is my height and have been dying to know maya's height#all i had before was her referring to herself as vertically challenged in professor layton vs phoenix wright#(which btw makes her the only other character to be referred to as vertically challenged. besides franziska in turnabout remniscence)#(so first of all. made for each other. but second of all i compared 13yo franziska's investigations overworld sprite to bratworth's)#(and then compared adult franziska's to edgeworth's. and taking the heels into account franziska has probably grown...)#(...about an inch or so. since she was 13. which is yet another thing she has in common with yours truly. holy shit)#i have been dying to know. what their height difference is. hoping that maya was shorter but only by a little bit.#and i was right. they are exactly as i envisioned#franziska looks tall next to maya but is actually a short queen#5'3'' energy is real and me and franzi both have it#technically she is closer to 5'4'' like she's just under it she's actually 5'3.7'' roughly but. i rounded it down to a multiple of 5#totally biased here nope#but. let me have this ok#i deserve a little projection as a treat#they also remind me. of my first relationship#im still besties with that first gf#and like franziska and maya we were and still are basically the same person in different fonts#with me the franziska being the more jaded and cynical one with bigger daddy issues#and they the maya being more ''but i stay silly :3'' and having bigger mummy issues#and the height difference is. you guessed it. about the same. although i think the exie is slightly shorter than maya instructions unclear#and despite me appearing more prickly on the inside and them seemingly being small and nonthreatening#while secretly being a powder keg ready to explode at a moment's notice#bc all that rage is kept internal 99% of the time#and them being the one that could like. keep me in line when i was being a bitch#like that moment in trials and tribulations where one glare from maya had franziska actually praising larry's artwork#like i cannot stress enough how much franmaya happened in real life and it was my first relationship#they mean the world to me they are the ship of all time im obsessed#franmaya#maya fey#franziska von karma
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from just the first episode i thought wednesday was kind of tropey and i didn’t really like what it did with the addams family canon BUT it’s just unbelievable how 100% perfectly they captured my 5th grade escapist fantasies. being a hypercompetent morbid weirdo who went to a boarding school whose whole aesthetic, theme, and curriculum was centered around death and danger and who was also a successful novelist and solved mysteries was so exactly what i dreamed about that i’m enjoying watching it just because it scratches that old itch with surgical precision
#in 5th/6th grade i had hair that was i think shoulder length but it actually got into such a big tangle that it was literally the entirety#of my hair#for some reason i decided to keep this a secret and wore my hair in a bun for like 4 months except that the bun was the shape my hair was in#when i finally admitted to it -- and mind you i didn't keep it secret out of a sense of shame or anything#i honestly don't remember what exactly it was -- i think i thought it would eventually resolve naturally and just didn't want to involve#anyone else#anyway the hairstylist who cut my hair deserves so much credit because she produced a really cute asymetrical bob out of it#and in my defense the knot developed shortly after my dad moved into a new house so a hairbrush for that house hadn't been bought yet#so if i wanted to brush my hair there i had to remember to take my brush from my mother's house which i obviously forgot all the time#wait why did i bring this up on a post about wednesday addams#OH because before that i DID for some period of time have 2 long braids#the 2-braided character i imprinted on as a child was sheeta from castle in the sky#she has her braids shot off by the villain#i donated my hair in the 2nd grade i think and me and bestie masha k (who was nausicaa in our ghibliverse RP)#were like 'omg....this is JUST like sheeta....the ancient prophecies are coming true'#as if it was some crazy coincidence and not a situation i directly created by asking my mother to make an appointment as supercuts#wait you know what else i just realized#yentl 🤝 sheeta#characters i imprinted upon who have two long braids that get cut off#very sleep deprived hence the stream of consciousness tags#OH regarding the fate of the hair knot#most of it was cut off as one discrete chunk and my aunt actually still has it in a plastic bag to this day#she calls it the 'hairloom' and the idea is to show it to the next generation if they ever wine about having to take care of their hair lmao
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literally the First co-op i brought lisa into i got a compliment on her build. maybe hers isnt too bad afterall
#benjitalk#I STILL NEED TO. RAISE HER BURST ONCE MORE. but i keep getting distracted using my resin for kaeya guhhhhghhg#< Not kaeyas fault he is an angel i am just. stupid#she does like. 40k aggravates with her full 3 stack skill and 20kish? normal charged attacks (< Also aggravate not just plain#all 3 starters on my account are nearlly fully built btw hehe#i just need to raise ambers flower to lvl 20#kaeyas feather to 20 (and. get him his own crit dmg circlet. hes stealing yelans rn)#and lisa just needs her burst leveled :) i wanna get her a better feather too but hers. has 14% atk on it.#she has EXACTLY 1600 attack and i dont wanna mess with that. 2 nice to look at.#also. im tempted to level all of them to lvl 90. which is very stupid* for kaeya and amber but like.#Its What They Deserve#(* its actually rlly recomended to lvl lisa to 90 due to how dendro reactions work so its not stupid for her. i just love the starters man)
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FULL OF FAN BEHAVIOR
req: Saw your post for smau requests, maybe a Max Verstappen where people don't realise his girlfriends account is you know her official verified account. Because practically every single post is about Max. Full on fan behaviour, in the sense she was his first fan as his childhood friend, she has been there supporting him since they were kids, and now they're adults and together, but some habits doesn't change.
(bonus if the posts makes people question why she choose Max as her mans.)
summary: everybody knows that this account is full of max. from his first win to now, from his most random things to his glory time, she's always there to post his pictures. they only know her as his friend and nothing more, but who is she actually?
2016 - 2018
verstappenight
liked by maxverstappen33, and 1,942 others
verstappenight WOOOO P1🏆🏁 congratulations to you maximus, i'm soo proud of you!
view all 125 comments
maxverstappen33 I won't say anything about the name Maximus, but thank you 😄
danielricciardo Well deserved! 👍🙌
username look how young he is
username I love a supportive fan ^^ Plz post more of this man.
⤷ yourusername glad to be on your service, ma'am
username how old is he?
username He's so happy, he turns red.
username I usually don't trust redbull after Sebastian, but he might be my new exception🤷♀️
verstappenight
liked by danielricciardo, and 1,230 others
verstappenight that eyes glint with mischief. #throwbackthursday
view all 65 comments
maxverstappen33 Oh my god, I thought I trusted you by taking this years ago
⤷ yourusername never trust anyone
username The half smile😂
username He's been pulling the red string with Red Bull from a long time ago, and look at the hat. I bet it's not a coincidence.
username how is she even managed to get this out? this looks so ancient
⤷ username It's not ancient, it's probably old, but not ancient.
danielricciardo He looks like he's planning to steal one of the cars steering wheel
⤷ username exactly! 😂😂
username if it's a throwback, how old is this pic then?
⤷ username i mean he looks way younger than him on her recent post, so just figure it.
⤷ username he always looks younger
verstappenight
liked by victoriaverstappen, and 963 others
verstappenight how is it feel to have a duplicates?
view all 72 comments
maxverstappen33 Why are you taking the second one?
⤷ verstappenight and why are YOU posing to that one?
username Why is he looks younger and younger each time?
⤷ verstappenight i don't know, but i definitely recommend him to have a slug treatment for anti aging.
⤷ username username it's him in torro rosso, so that's why he looks more like a teenager.
username it's not even thursday yet, but i had a bad feeling for this week's throwback thursday.
verstappenight
liked by carlossainz55, and 3,573 others
verstappenight boo! happy halloween #throwbackthursday
view all 269 comments
username what did i say, my feelings are never lying
carlossainz55 Got you! 😆🤣
⤷ maxverstappen1 If I got a heart attack next week, it'll be completely your fault
landonorris is halloween on 29 or 30?
⤷ username depends on what region you're in, i guess?
⤷ landonorris don't guess, answer.
maxverstappen1 And how are you even managed to take this?? Seriously. yourusername
username I can't believe it's actually Carlos who did this
⤷ username Yeah, but I think this is so Carlos-like behavior.
username i would do that face too if someone dressed as scream beside me
username Who is running this fanpage?
username why are you liking him so much?
⤷ yourusername because he is so nice, cool, and he looks like sid from ice age which is my favorite character.
⤷ danielricciardo we got a whole stack of characters here: first we got maximus the horse from tangled, sid from ice age, and then what? jimmy neutron?
username 😂😂😂ajajaja mira su cara!
verstappenight
liked by redbullracing, and 3,782 others
verstappenight found this on twitter and now i can't stop laughing! can't wait to send this to my family group.
view all 90 comments
maxverstappen1 I really can't trust you with my digital footprint 🤦🏻♂️
⤷ verstappenight i found this on twitter alright, it's not taken by me!
⤷ maxverstappen1 Still.
⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh, someone's upset...
username who is this person behind this account?
username Why is his reaction is always looking so hilarious
username Max: 😦
username i feel him
username you sure it's not throwback thursday?
MID 2023
verstappenight
liked by charles_leclerc, and 97,182 others
verstappenight i changed throwback thursday with this questionable sense of max's fashion. hope that's alright.
photo credit via verstauri on twitter.
view all 348 comments
username NOOOOOOOOOOOO
username #bringbackthrowbackthursday
charles_leclerc If you get rid of throwback Thursday, how am I going to tease him?
⤷ verstappenight by searching it on pinterest🤷🏻♀️
username Is that real or photoshopped?
username Okay, I know throwback thursday is made a long time ago since 2015 but man I really miss it sm... 💔💔
⤷ verstappenight same, but some people don't need that old max (except for charles). we need the new one because life goes on -max via my message
⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember saying it
⤷ verstappenight shut up
username oh cmon i know charles want it because he's in love with max
⤷ username should i be surprised?
⤷ username i mean if there's no throwback thursday, who's going to tease him with his past when she's not there
⤷ username Daniel and Lando or Y/n could...
⤷ username oh come on, i don't even know who's the person behind this account anyway, for EIGHT YEARS
⤷ username As if you've never heard of twitter, just search her username and you'll see her REAL face.
THE TWEET SHE MEANT:
verstappenight
liked by schecoperez, and 113,809 others
verstappenight guess which one is the real one
view all 462 comments
schecoperez The first one of course!😂🤣
username since when did checos ass becoming that juicy
⤷ username since he listened to daddy yankee's song on repeat
⤷ danielricciardo His actual morning routine:
username the first one because what else would he be doing if not eating omelette and seeing checo's ass in the morning
⤷ username even checo himself agrees
username I'm glad that she still post here, even though there's no throwback thursday anymore😞😔
⤷ username but i guess even though we did not have throwback thursday anymore, we still have this crack post of him😄
TWITTER, 3 DAYS AFTER THE COMMENTS ON VERSTAPPENIGHT'S DADDY POST:
maxverstappen1 added a photo to their story! 2h
ON THE OTHER HAND, HER ACTUAL IG:
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1 and 82,147 others
yourusername good moooorniiiiinggggg from my room<3
view all 97 comments
username Thank God it's not private
username damn yall work faster than the fbi
username Anyone come here from twitter?
username Omg I've never realized max pulled this hottie ever since they were born
username THIS IS VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN?????
⤷ username eight years of waiting is finally getting payed off..
username why are you even choosing max to be your man when there's charles or daniel who's sexier
⤷ yourusername sometimes i don't need looks to see to be having someone like max. he's my best friend first, and i'm glad i choose him right the first place.
⤷ username Oh that's sweet...
⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too, My biggest fan.
⤷ username I LOVE YOU TOO??????💔💔
⤷ username oh my god max is having a REAL relationship with a fan account admin
⤷ username AWOOP🚨🚔 THEIR MEDIUM LAUNCH????
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, and 278,903 others
yourusername nobody knows that this phone addict is once my best friend. happy birthday maximus! 🥳🤍
view all 486 comments
landonorris happy birthday facebook dad.
maxverstappen1 I once again not going to take the Maximus name. It makes me feel like a horse from Rapunzel.
⤷ yourusername wait, you've watch tangled before?
danielricciardo Happy birthday, Big boy.
redbullracing Happy birthday to our number one champion! 🥳🥳
username awww baby maxiee🥺🥺🥺
lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate!
carlossainz55 To be honest, your real account is sometimes still kinda feels like your other one.
⤷ yourusername force of habit probably?
⤷ carlossainz55 No, it's because you're acting like Max's biggest fan everywhere.
⤷ maxverstappen1 That's probably because she is.
⤷ yourusername wipe that smug smile off your face while you're typing
username He looks the same weirdly or not
username AHA I FOUND YOU VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN
username i love how she just hanging to his arm like they're been a couple since god knows how long
username SHE'S SOO LUCKYYY
username i'm gonna melt
username i feel like it's a hard launch, but she have been doing this for a long time ago
sophiekumpen 🥳🥳🥳
maxverstappen1
liked by zedd, and 627,834 others
maxverstappen1 How was I going to get her bad side if she's there and looking so beautifully?
👤: yourusername, verstappenight
view all 446 comments
landonorris poetic. remember your other girlfriend's waiting
⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember having another one?
⤷ charles_leclerc How are you even forget about us?
yourusername awww i can't believe you tag the fan account one too!! i love you so much!!!
⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too❤️
username #justiceforcharles #lestappenforever
username SHE'S SOOOO CUTE no wonder max pulled her
victoriaverstappen I didn't know you pulled this cutie
⤷ danielricciardo Me too until I found out yesterday at the club
username poetic max is going to be the end of me
username I really had a bad feelings of he becoming poetic and gets all over like this
username Okay, this is max's hard launch. And now I'm waiting for Y/n's
⤷ username i thought she already doing it for so many times at verstappenight? 😏🤭
yourusername
liked by redbullracing, and 579,420 others
yourusername 💌
📸: landonorris
view all 461 comments
username PARENTS CONFIRMED???
username YESS (adopt me pls)
username is verstappenight still going to be there? let's see for the next two days...
username verstappenight nation how do we feel after this? (we can get a new max pic daily)
username i'm gonna thank lando forever for this
username With the bouquet, the dim light, and the black and white + sepia filters. What are they doin that night?
username AWWW ROMANTIC😍😍
danielricciardo They left Charles in the back that night
⤷ landonorris aww poor him. but anyway...
username how are you converting from lestappen to this one so fast?
TAGLIST @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification
#✶!#max verstappen#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smau#f1 fluff#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 instagram au
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—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—
pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.
warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.
notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!
(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)
divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^
You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.
You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.
Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.
To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.
Friends.
The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.
You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.
It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.
So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.
Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.
"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"
She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."
"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."
"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."
"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"
Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.
"Natasha."
"Yeah?"
"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.
Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"
"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."
"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.
"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."
"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.
"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.
"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"
"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."
"Just what?"
The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.
The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.
You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."
"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.
She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.
Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.
"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"
The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.
"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."
"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.
Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.
"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"
"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"
You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."
She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."
"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."
Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.
You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."
Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.
She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.
"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."
Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.
The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.
"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."
"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."
"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.
Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.
"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.
You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.
"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."
"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"
"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.
"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.
"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."
Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.
The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff soft smut#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff smut#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel quotes#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#natasha marvel#marvel#Spotify
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a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.
quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.
oh and spoilers. i guess.
the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.
the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.
the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.
the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds
the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.
the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".
having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.
don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.
if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.
pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.
there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.
this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.
this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.
13. Charlie:
(see what i mean about that red thing?)
as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.
her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice
its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.
character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.
now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.
she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?
14. Vaggie
why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?
I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.
she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.
i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.
christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way
15. Alastor.
God Damn
where to start.
"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?
his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.
tumblr sexy man bait
he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.
his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.
his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.
he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.
personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.
im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.
16. Angel Dust
what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.
all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")
I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.
not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.
i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.
same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.
17. Carmilla carmine
are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?
Big Yoai Hands
ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.
A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-
her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.
i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.
18. cherri bomb
that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt
decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.
19. egg boiz
absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.
20. Emily
im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character
does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie
We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.
good contrast with the other angels on screen.
Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???
21. Husk
keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?
one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.
has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.
huge potential, little pay off.
22. lillith
I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.
alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.
23. lucifer morningstar
no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.
few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.
would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.
that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.
24. Adam.
alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.
I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up
I fucking hate his mask
We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.
25. Niffty
again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.
token straight
keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization
you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?
26. Sir Pentious
the secret season one redeemed.
the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.
essentially a child after the first episode.
actually a snake which i appreciate.
no where near steampunky enough.
27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.
28. Valentino
gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED
only a moth some of the time.
sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.
it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.
29. Vox
legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.
propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.
why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?
same body shape as literally every other male character.
tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.
30. Valvette
the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".
apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.
apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias
we know so much about her from things outside of the show.
was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.
im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.
but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.
this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.
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Even though we all saw it coming from a mile away, I really do think Vaggie being a fallen angel is the best direction for her character and the one that best explains it.
First of all, it explains how one of the most decent demons in Hell after Charlie would even be there in the first place. Because she never belonged there.
Then we have an immediate explanation for her hinted military background back in Scrambled Eggs. Of course she was a warrior, she went out to massacre demons each year!
It also sheds her attempts to protect Charlie in a more meaningful light. Because let's face it, admirable as it is, a mere sinner, and not even an Overlord, acting like the Princess of Hell's loyal guard dog and facing off against threats like Alastor seems extremely foolish; if she were a mere demon, she would definitely be biting more than she can chew. But she is not a demon, she's an angel, an exorcist; a species that isn't just far more powerful than demons, but that can even kill Overlords. And even if she lost her wings, given Lucifer's angelic nature is the reason he got to rule Hell in the first place, then clearly, Vaggie still is more powerful than most demons.
And finally, it explains her stance on Charlie's plan; that unyielding support coated in rightful doubt. On the one hand, her devotion comes from the fact that Charlie, Lucifer's daughter and a demon, showed her more compassion and care than her fellow angels, the supposed personification of everything good and perfect. Not only has she seen first hand how not all demons are that bad or deserving of death, but she stands out as the only angel so far to feel any mercy for them even before being exiled.
And what did that get her? Exactly. Exiled from Heaven and with both her eye and wings amputated. Again, Vaggie knows first hand how truly vile Heaven is. How, when it comes to demons, everything is a mistake that must be rectified through the most violent means possible. If Heaven, which is supposed to reward virtue, punished Vaggie, one of their own, for displaying a virtuous behaviour towards a demon, what chance do actual sinners have to ever be redeemed in their eyes and hence accepted in Heaven?
I guess this all comes to show how that just because a development is obvious, it doesn't make it any less good or fitting.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel spoilers#vaggie#charlie morningstar#lucifer morningstar#heaven#sera#emily#adam#lute#hazbin hotel analysis#vivziepop#vivienne medrano#vivzieverse
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Let Me Love You Like A Woman
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.
a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey
******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT
warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.
And unknown places scare you.
There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.
You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.
You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.
It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.
She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.
“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.
You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.
Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.
That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.
She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.
As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”
Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”
You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.
“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.
“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.
Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.
“We have a mission for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”
The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.
Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.
“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.
Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.
“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”
Chiron presses his lips together.
“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.
“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”
Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.
Clarisse looks at you.
“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”
—-
“Y/N.”
You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.
You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.
Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.
But, Chiron needed to like you too.
You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.
It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.
She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.
She smiles.
“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”
“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.
If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.
And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.
Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.
“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”
Her face hardens.
“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”
You rip your hand away from her grip.
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”
“You’re crazy!”
—-
You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.
She looks up from her book and laughs.
“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.
“Mission,” you groan.
She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”
“With Clarisse.”
She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.
As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.
She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.
“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
You put your lips right up to her ear.
“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”
“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”
“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”
“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”
“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”
She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.
She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.
You put your hand on her face.
“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”
What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?
You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.
Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.
And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.
She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.
She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.
You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.
She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.
You look into Marley’s eyes now.
“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”
Marley kisses your cheek.
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”
“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.
Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.
You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.
—-
The bus ride is boring.
Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.
But you’re bored.
You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.
It’s only been two months.
As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.
You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.
You miss her.
“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.
“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”
Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”
“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”
“What?”
Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.
“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”
“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”
She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.
She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.
But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.
“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.
—-
You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.
Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.
You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.
“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”
You realize your head is on her shoulder.
You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.
“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.
You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.
She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.
She’s right up in your ear.
“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”
The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.
You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.
“I’d kill it.”
You both know you probably couldn’t.
She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”
Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.
She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.
She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.
“Hm, mine.”
You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.
You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?
It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.
You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”
Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.
—-
You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.
“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.
You can want her, here, where no one will know.
You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.
The station is oddly busy.
You have this horribly uneasy feeling.
You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.
She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.
You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.
But you trust yourself.
“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.
She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.
She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”
“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.
Why is she so fucking confusing?
As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?
She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.
You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.
“Clarisse.”
She seems to see it too.
“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.
She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”
When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.
You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.
Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.
The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.
You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.
It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.
That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.
The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.
Something slams against the door.
You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.
“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.
The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.
It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.
“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.
“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.
Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.
You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”
It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.
The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-
Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.
It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.
It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.
You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.
She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-
You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.
No one would know.
Her spear falls to the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.
No one would know.
“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”
“No problem,” she says.
No one would know.
“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.
“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.
It’s so simple.
You both can get what you want from this trip.
“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”
“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.
You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.
You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.
You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.
No one else will ever come close.
“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”
She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.
—-
The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.
Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.
How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?
You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.
She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
—-
The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.
You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.
When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.
“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.
You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.
“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.
—-
The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.
“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.
“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.
Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.
Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.
You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.
“On your left!”
Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.
Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.
She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.
“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.
“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.
“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”
Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.
Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.
“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”
“Yeah, okay.”
—-
Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.
“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.
You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”
She stares at you for a moment.
“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.
Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.
Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.
“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.
It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.
“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”
She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.
“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.
“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.
She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.
“What are you thinking of getting?”
She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”
You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”
She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.
“What was that?”
She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.
You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.
Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.
“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”
You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.
You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.
“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.
“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”
“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”
“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”
The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.
“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”
“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”
You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.
You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.
“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.
—-
“Clarisse.”
She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.
“Clarisse,” you repeat.
She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.
“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”
“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.
—-
Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.
You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.
You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.
You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.
You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.
It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.
You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”
She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.
“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.
“Don’t be mean.”
You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.
“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.
You whip around and point your finger at her.
“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”
Her smile falls.
“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”
Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.
—-
When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.
You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.
“Y/N.”
You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.
“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”
You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.
Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.
“A toy?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.
“I’m sorry.”
Your breathe hitches.
“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”
She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.
“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”
It’s silent for a moment.
“I want you to let me love you.”
She lets go of your hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”
“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.
“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”
You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”
“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”
You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.
But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.
She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.
Your fingers dig into her back.
“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.
—-
“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.
Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.
You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.
Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.
It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.
You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.
Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.
You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.
He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.
“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.
Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”
Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.
Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.
Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.
“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.
—-
marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.
clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟
—-
clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO
—-
honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n
another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish
@sincerely-silk @lacytalks
—-
pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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