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Jul 7, 2015 23:18:01 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 7, 2015 23:18:01 GMT -5
The sooner she found this damn file, the sooner she could leave and actually enjoy her evening. For the first time in awhile, Isolde didn't smell like gunpowder or strong herbal smells. She'd splashed perfume behind her ears and neck, and then some on her wrists. She had taken great care to remove every inch of uniform from her appearance, from the clothing itself to the marching walk she normally carried. Instead her legs carried her at a good pace, stretching only as far as the lace dress would allow without a seam accidentally ripping. Her heels were quick clicks because of this on the marble floor because of this as she pushed some hair behind her ear. "Get in, get the file, get out." She was supposed to meet a friend for dinner and the last thing she wanted to do was be late when both of their schedules were so hard to coordinate in the first place. She actually felt... female.
She'd allowed herself plenty of time because who knew what the filing office looked like at this time of day. Some days it was neat as pin, and then there were other days where someone had strewn files everywhere and left them about for someone else to pick up. Probably Tristan. Isolde wrinkled her nose at the thought as she dug out her keys from the glittered clutch on her shoulder. The filing office door clicked and unlocked where she half-hearted closed it behind her and flipped a light switch on. Light bulbs flickered to life above her and as soon as the room was illuminated, she groaned loudly and hung her head.
It was in shambles.
"Why, why?" She muttered the question repeatedly under her breath as she set her clutch down and pushed her hair over her shoulder. Isolde needed a few files, a few background checks on a few new recruits before she'd let them anywhere near her things in the lab. She started looking through the tossed files, flipping through their names and making them into piles as she went. One minute her hand would pass over a veteran and the next it would be newspaper clippings about a battle, followed by stock orders. Isolde moved to the filing cabinets with her back to the door, carefully crouching down in her dress as she started thumbing through personnel files. Every so often she heard voices or footsteps, but she'd tuned it out for the most part. She worked here, surely no one was going to give her grief for being here... right?
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Magician
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Jul 8, 2015 0:21:31 GMT -5
Post by tristan belmont on Jul 8, 2015 0:21:31 GMT -5
Work, work, work, work, work. Oh, these paperwork days he hated. Tristan would rather be out fighting with his battalion, but alas today was not one of those days. He had to write his report, which he hated doing, and then he had to go and file it. Which he also hated doing.
But contrary to whatever Isolde believed, he did not cast files aside like trash. Nothing was ever in disarray by his doing, by any means. He actually liked to find things, thank you very much. However, he was about ready to go in there to file some things when...
He held himself back from letting out a whistle. That was impolite, and the woman probably wouldn't care to hear it either. If all went well, Tristan might have some company tonight, might have some fun. Though, he did realize a bit after checking her out, what was a civilian doing in here, of all places? No matter, someone with legs like that and a dress to boot would probably be harmless.
If anything, he could call Necia and Vesta in a second and annihilate her. No problem. She had legs for days and dear lord Tristan was loving it. And by the looks of it, her body wasn't that bad, either. "What's a beautiful lady like yourself doing here tonight?"
isolde savoy
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Jul 8, 2015 8:43:39 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 8, 2015 8:43:39 GMT -5
tristan belmont
If she had better paid attention, she would have realized she needed to shut the door to stop what was about to happen next. Unable to find what she needed, she half-closed one drawer and bent for the lower drawer. The smooth voice came from behind her and Isolde jumped a little from where she was carefully bending to look through files. Her head lightly hit against the drawer and she hissed a little bit and started to straighten, files under one arm as she closed the upper drawer. Isolde rubbed the sore spot on top of her head as she stood and smoothed down the hem of her skirt and the files in her arms.
Isolde didn't turn around at first as she put the file folders on top of the cabinet in front of her, double checking that she had the correct names. "Secret spy work, of course~" Hopefully private or petty officer Joe here would move along - then again, it wasn't often that women were out of uniform in this building. Probably hadn't seen a real pair of legs in awhile. The thought amused her as she turned around, files in hand, to view the speaker with a smirk. "Don't worry, I-- Tristan?" What was Tristan even doing here so late? He should have already been home, not between her and the exit. Her ready smile quickly turned into a puzzled and bemused frown.
"What're you doing here?" Stupid question, he worked here. Isolde walked back over to the large oak desk. "Aren't you supposed to be, you know, not lurking about? It's almost--" She lifted her wrist to check her watch and forgot she'd replaced the watch with a small bracelet instead. "It's past time for you to still be here." Who else could be here for him to possibly harass (because that's what Tristan excelled at the most, in her experience). She felt a bit out of her element dealing with him, she hadn't been expecting to run into him, much less out of uniform and in heels. It was a bit more difficult to look intimidating when you were in high heels and lace. Isolde put her neat pile of folders to one side and started putting the other files back. The room was still a wreck, but the desk had most of the strewn files in big piles. Hopefully some orderly would get to it tonight or in the morning. She'd put up the important things, and then get her files and be on her merry way to dinner.
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Jul 8, 2015 12:35:31 GMT -5
Post by tristan belmont on Jul 8, 2015 12:35:31 GMT -5
Tristan had a problem. A huge problem. A weakness, if you will. And it was right in front of him. Dear lord, he was going to bed her if it was the last thing he did. But he had to keep his composure to actually get to that point. So he tore his gaze away from the beautiful legs before him, caught sight of her butt but elected to ignore it because he could not afford to stare at that before he really lost it.
"I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean to startle you." He walked forward to help her up, although it seemed as though she recovered fast. And then she stood up and he practically melted where he stood. That was a much better view than when she bent over (but damn did he want to bend her over in another way). "Don't secret spies usually close the door behind them before sneaking through very important files?"
A slight tease in his voice, playful and light. And then -
Shit. An expression of surprise appeared, before he shoved it away with his signature smirk. Although she had definitely caught him off guard, he could work with this, maybe. God, he would never live it down if he'd accidentally flirted with her genuinely. Which he had, but he hadn't gotten too far into it. At least he could tease her. Tristan just hoped that she didn't see his surprise. Probably hoping for too much.
He'd be mortified if she used this against him in some way. "Isolde, always a pleasure. And I should ask you the same question - that isn't exactly proper work attire, you know." Like damn it was, if she'd showed up here wearing that from day one, their relationship would have turned out so much different. Under those unflattering uniforms, she was just an annoying little subordinate.
"It's not your authority to be questioning why I'm here, anyways. Besides, if you're not careful, you might draw some unwanted eyes in unwanted places." So was now a better time to stare rather lecherously at her legs.
No, not really, but Tristan really wanted to.
isolde savoy
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Jul 8, 2015 22:24:39 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 8, 2015 22:24:39 GMT -5
Tristan recovered quickly, but that didn't mean Isolde didn't see the momentary look of what she thought was confusion. She didn't look that different, did she? It was just a lace dress cut high above the knee, her hair down, and lipstick... and a bit of perfume... heels, she couldn't forget the heels that gave her an extra four inches and could be used as a weapon if need be, that's how thin the heel was... Oh, and jewelry.
Alright, so she looked completely different than normal.
Isolde was distracted as he mentioned her attire. "I'm off the clock, technically. I've worked my twelve-hour, and now I'm going to enjoy my evening. Believe it or not, I do own far more exciting things than combat boots and uniforms." Once she found that last personnel file she was going to enjoy said evening, which was probably somewhere in the piles she had made. While she was an organized individual, organizing other people's messes was frustrating. Isolde cleared a space on the desk and turned, hopping up onto the edge of the desk and crossing her legs. Isolde started flipping through each file in the two big piles next to her, trying to quickly scan for that last file she needed. Its not your authority to be questioning why I'm here. Isolde rolled her eyes and mouthed that same sentence wordlessly to herself - the pompous Adonis. Authority. All because he was two ranks above her and the same age, and, of course, the youngest colonel in the division and possibly recent history. "All I asked as a simple question, don't get your panties in a twist."
Isolde looked up as he warned her that she would gain unwanted eyes. Isolde lifted an eyebrow as she looked at him and felt a bit of smugness cross her face. "Oh, is that so?" She watched him for a moment before she smirked. "Am I a distraction to you, Tristan?" She shifted, the file splayed in her lap as she leaned on one hand on the desk, legs crossed, and one foot lightly bouncing in a slow swing, like a cat's tail that would flick slowly back and forth when it found something interesting. The perch had been temporary to get off her feet, but now it was a really good spot to possibly watch and make him squirm. "My appearance has seemed to cause you a great deal of confusion, I remember being called beautiful less than five minutes ago." The smug smirk was a full grin now.
Nope. He wasn't about to live this down unless he play his cards right.
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Magician
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Jul 9, 2015 2:00:23 GMT -5
Post by tristan belmont on Jul 9, 2015 2:00:23 GMT -5
Damn, Tristan couldn't focus on annoying Isolde. Not if she was just... flaunting herself like she was. But he had to remember - eyes straight ahead, try to pretend this was being at attention and maybe he could get himself through this. Oh dear, how he wished he hadn't seen this sight at all, then he could go on being normal old Tristan who always annoyed little Isolde, the back-talker. But now that he had seen this sight, he wondered what she possibly could be up to. Perhaps a date?
Before he could stop it, a flash of anger, perhaps even jealousy, consumed him. But he pushed that away, pushed the thought away. No way perfectionist workaholic Isolde Savoy would ever go on a date. "And yet here you are, off work and still here? I can't imagine what you must be doing dressing yourself up like that coming back to work. Though I can't say I wouldn't prefer to see it more often, you're so drab and dull in the uniforms." He winked at her, sarcastic, smug. If he was going to pick himself up from this mess, he ought to try to make her feel uncomfortable with his constant flirting.
She was off the clock anyways, she said so herself, and Tristan was about done too. A bit of verbal harassment was harmless, right (not right, but he was going to do it anyway because it was Isolde and he couldn't pass up a good opportunity). "I wonder whose panties are really in a twist here, in that tight little dress of yours."
Damn her, damn her for picking up so quickly on it. Tristan could hardly prevent a scowl from showing on his face, forcing a smirk. "Oh yes, you really are a distraction. Coming in here with that kind of outfit." He'll bite. He'll play her game. He'll scare her off in the worst way possible, if she let him. "I'm not going back on my word, you are beautiful. In fact, I could just eat. you. up." With each word, he stepped closer to her, and this time, he did nothing to hide his gaze toward her body.
isolde savoy tristan u fucking perv stop being god damn creepy
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Jul 9, 2015 17:14:51 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 9, 2015 17:14:51 GMT -5
This was too amusing. Isolde was still swinging her foot back and forth, the heel of her foot sliding out of the heel of her shoe occasionally as she watched him. He was collected, she (begrudgingly) had to give him that. She let out a small laugh when he wondered just why she was dressed like this and back to work. Pushing herself back up, she picked up the next folder and skimmed through it, going back to pick up, skim, put aside, grab new file. She was sure Jamison, Howard was in here somewhere. She very nearly missed the wink and the smug look and both her eyebrows lifted at him. That was... new. Her eyebrows furrowed a little. What was the purpose of the wink if he already knew it was her in the dress and not some strange woman? Or had he known it was her, and now he was trying to get under her skin?
"Generally when a woman gets dressed up in the evening, she has a date, Tristan. I'm sure you remember what a date is, right? Or has your dry spell been longer than you've originally let on?" She looked up at him with another smug look before she flipped to the next file. She made a small sound of glee when it was the file she was looking for and she quickly skimmed through it, completely missing the scowl that crossed Tristan's face. "As for panties, I'd have to be wearing any for them to get twisted now wouldn't I?" Let him chew on that little picture. Isolde slid off the desk and collected the four files she needed, pushing the other piles away as she shuffled her new collection into a pile and reached for her purse. She had just gotten the clutch strap onto her shoulder when she heard his voice approaching behind her, and rather quickly at that.
Isolde turned as he approached, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up at the way he looked at her. He'd never looked at her like that before. She looked at him with a small fake scowl as he crept closer, like she was a song bird and he was an overgrown house cat. A new sensation made her pulse race a little faster, which only made the frown more sincere as he stood right in front of her. Any closer and he'd be able to smell her perfume at this rate. Mentally she started flipping through file folders of her own, mental categories she had memorized that she used for reference in new situations. Why would her pulse react badly? She wasn't afraid of him. She'd be more afraid of a wet cat than the tall man in front of her. So what was this new feeling that had alarm bells going off in the back of her mind?
If his goal had been to make her uncomfortable, it was working. The files were held between them and she was eying him with full suspicion now. "Eat me?" He'd always been a flirt, incorrigible with women, and so on. She just hadn't been prepared to be on the receiving end of it. "Tristan, don't even think about it. You take a bite, and I'll bite you back twice as hard. That's a promise." Her tone was cooler as she put a hand on his chest with the intention of pushing him back and out of her way.
tristan belmont (( She's legit serious about biting, lmfao. She's like "... he's suddenly lost his mind, or he's screwing with me." I love ittttt. ))
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Magician
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Jul 9, 2015 21:23:59 GMT -5
Post by tristan belmont on Jul 9, 2015 21:23:59 GMT -5
There it was again, that anger, that jealousy, leaving as quickly as it appeared. He wondered why - rarely was he jealous, because he had always adopted a no strings attached policy that suited him and his women perfectly fine. Isolde, however, he did not want to romantically or sexually pursue (although a case could be made for the latter, her awful personality made it nigh impossible for him to want the former). So why... why these emotions? Her personal life didn't concern him, but at the same time it felt something akin to betrayal. First she came in wearing that dress, and then...
"Oh, trust me, I have no problem getting a date of my own, honey. I wonder what poor lad happened to end up with you..." She had a date. And then she mentioned something unbelievable that Tristan can't help but wonder - and also wanted to check. "Well, aren't you a naughty girl, coming into work without panties. You know, that dress is so short someone might just see something you didn't mean to show them."
But his mind conjured a picture he just wished he hadn't seen. Tristan severely doubted that she actually had the gall to do that, but that still didn't keep him from imagining. How much he wanted to trap her between him and the desk, lift her dress up just a tiny bit to check... and then eventually other things. But that was entirely too inappropriate for the work place. And what would they say if she ever called him out on sexual harassment? Isn't this a romantic cliche, anyways, screwing in the office?
Tristan was close now, he could smell the perfume, she looked like a timid little thing, so very out of character for strong-willed little Isolde. Though her words still had bite - literally. Still, he smirked, pleased with himself. He grabbed her hand off his chest, leaning forward. "I like a girl with some fight in her, you know?"
isolde savoy damn frisky kitty mode x100 right now
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Jul 11, 2015 0:01:59 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 11, 2015 0:01:59 GMT -5
Isolde shot Tristan a look. "Did you just call me honey?" He did not! What sort of pet name was that, to be named after a liquid insects made. The over so logical Isolde (and too literal at times) pursed her lips as she shot him an annoyed look. Now he was just trying to make her angry. 'I wonder what poor lad happened to end up with you'. For one brief moment she felt the sting of the words and she debated whether slapping was fit punishment. On work property, probably not. But oh, Tristan was not going to get off lightly. She would see to that. Just because she didn't date often didn't mean she didn't know how. "You're such an ass Tristan, I can get a date just like anybody else, obviously." He just didn't know it was a platonic date, and probably for the best. Her friend was female, and the last thing she wanted was Tristan trying to woo her best friend. She knew Tristan, and it would go horribly, terribly wrong. "What I do or don't wear under a dress or uniform isn't your problem, but thanks for showing such concern Tristan. Would you like me to consult with you on which kind of underwear I don from now on?" The sarcasm didn't match the mega-watt smile she flashed at him, but it cemented her point, in her mind. She'd already checked, her dress wasn't too badly cut, she could crouch down and bend over without being indecent. But he was successfully getting under her skin, and it annoyed her that he was winning. How dare he, the prat.
She still felt that odd sensation, now mixed with annoyance, as she eyed him. He only took her hand and started leaning towards her... Now her hand was trapped. The sensation only made her heart beat faster, especially as she registered just what sort of position she was in - a bad one. Her hips were against the desk, he was too close, and he was touching her. Since when did Tristan touch? Never. He was close enough that she could see that his eyes were different shades of color, and not flat like she had first thought. Isolde's hand flexed in his grip as she shot him a look. She was uncertain, and that made her nervous, along with whatever this other feeling was. She didn't like this new rush sensation, like she was about to do something dangerous. It was like a thrill! That was the word she was searching for. It was why her pulse picked up speed underneath his hand when he grabbed it.
Tristan was thrilling her? That thought made Isolde literally back up and bump into the desk as the alarm bells went off in her head. Oh no, no that feeling wasn't allowed! This was a game she had little expertise in, and Tristan was a strategist. If he decided to go in, guns blazing, she... well, her teasing games earlier would pale in comparison to what he might try to do to unnerve her - She'd never stand a chance. He was already maneuvering her against this desk, and this was probably all some grand scheme since he'd walked in the door and recognized her. Yes, that was it, a new way to bother her. Isolde needed a tactful withdrawal from the oversized house cat in front of her. "You're going to have a fight too big for you to handle in about five seconds Blondie. Trust me, you won't win a fight against me." For one brief moment, she wondered if he would actually go through with his 'threat', and try to take a bite. One part of her, (admittedly very small), wondered if he did, would it live up to the hype he made himself out to be. Again, dangerous territory.
Isolde took the file folders and lightly put them between their faces, using it as a barrier not only to take a breath, but also to lightly smoosh the manila folders into his face and push him back and away from her warm face. "Now let me out, you're leaning so close I'm having to bend backwards here. I thought they taught useful things to you, like what 'personal space' means."
tristan belmont amgI'msosorry she thinks a lot, and she'd never admit it (yet) but he's doing one of her favorite thingggssss~
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Magician
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Jul 11, 2015 2:21:13 GMT -5
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Post by tristan belmont on Jul 11, 2015 2:21:13 GMT -5
"If you'd like to consult with me about your underwear choice, I'd be happy to help. Hmmm, might I suggest some lacy underwear to match your dress tonight? You know, if you don't want that poor fellow to be left a surprise tonight." More like lucky fellow. If it was all just physical, Tristan convinced himself that it might not actually be so bad to have a no string attached relationship with her. Then again, it wasn't professional to start any sort of intimate relationship with a coworker. Different division or not. "If you're feeling somewhat adventurous, might I suggest something a little more racy for tomorrow when you report in for work? I heard it makes ladies feel more sexy to do that in unflattering clothes. And it gives a nice surprise for a quickie at work - trust me on that."
Despite it all being legitimate advice, Tristan only said it because he knew that Isolde would be horrified at his words (at best - at worst she'd probably say something like how he had a dirty mind or something). And he decided - he liked making her uncomfortable. Terribly so. As in - he knew this was bad behavior on his part, borderline incredibly toxic and three shades away from literally forcing himself on her. But he couldn't help it. He just wanted to lean in closer, tease her more, annoy her more. Serves her right for waltzing up here in that sort of outfit. And so he leaned in close, bodies nearly touching.
He wondered how she would feel against his body. "Kitten, I've been so awfully nice to you, and yet you still threaten me? I don't want to hurt you, but if you must put up a fight..." He was confident that he could overpower her. But at the same time, he didn't feel right about going too far without her explicit consent. Sure, he'll fool around for a little bit. He could go just a bit farther, maybe play with her supple skin a bit, take a nibble, a bite just like her invitation... But that was that. He didn't just go about forcing himself on women, and he wasn't going to start now. Isolde was definitely... Frustrating, but not something he'd want to lose his job over. Yet the way she reacted to him got him thinking - if he persisted, would she fall into his clutches so easily as the rest had?
Tristan actually found himself disappointed at the thought. If anyone would refuse to the very last straw it would be Isolde. If anyone would rebuff his every advance it would be Isolde. And hell, he actually thought that maybe... Maybe he was up for a challenge. And Isolde would be the hardest challenge yet. Then again, he did get a kick out of this new way of messing with her. Maybe he could find newfound joy in that before he sprouted this nonsense about a challenging person to bed. "Like I said though, I like women with a little fight. It'll just turn me on more, you know."
He leaned in for a kiss and all he got was Manila folder. To say he was sorely disappointed was an understatement. To say he was angry was also an understatement. He was a little annoyed. Taking his free hand (this entire time he'd still had her hand in his grip, opening her up to him), he yanked the folders from her hand and tossed them on the floor. That thing he said about not actively trying to mess things up earlier? Well, that line was crossed. They scattered in different directions. "I'd surely like to bend you over in some different way, but I'll save that for another time. Now, back to what we were in the middle of before your little insubordinance... You must be punished."
He wasn't going to do anything overtly bad. Not really. He just leaned in really close, her breath on her ear, her neck, and Tristan decided he was going to honor that threat he made. He took a little nibble at her neck, sucking for a moment before retreating to admire his handiwork.
Well, it was definitely going to leave a mark.
isolde savoy I got too into it I'm sorry that's like the end of pervy Tristan I swear maybe not tho
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Jul 11, 2015 17:15:05 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 11, 2015 17:15:05 GMT -5
She would be lying if she said that she didn't think it was hilarious to rub his nose in it. Literally, rub his nose into the manila folders. It pleased her greatly, especially after all his commentary about poor lad and then the underwear. "For a man who has little to nothing to do with me except annoy me greatly, you're very involved in the thought of my underwear. I didn't know you were a closet pervert." She was trying to sound casual, but everything just happened so fast. One minute he had her hand and he was kissing folders, and the next his other hand had swept the folders out of her hand and thrown them on the floor.
Isolde's green eyes widened in surprise as the paper fluttered up into the air and her eyes followed the trail up and then down before darting to look back at his face. He was close, right up against her, and each breath made their clothes brush. Kitten. A flurry of words flew through her mind, but all she could do was stare at him as he proclaimed she had to be punished. "Excuse me?" Punished for what? For making him eat folders? "You aren't going to be bending me in any sort of way. You're just jerking my chain around because you can--" The words were swallowed up when he leaned forward and Isolde felt a bit of panic flare. He wouldn't dare do it. But just as she thought it, she was eating her own words.
Tristan's mouth was close, his breath hot on her neck, and it made her shiver. The thrill sensation that wasn't allowed? It nearly doubled. He was an asshole, and just because he was pretty did not mean she could go weak kneed! Isolde's breath was shaky and she bit down hard on her bottom lip when his mouth nipped against a very soft spot on the side of her neck. Every part of her wanted to make a sound, but she'd be damned if she let him hear it. Her hand was motionless where he still held it. She couldn't think, could barely breathe, and the skin he had just touched was on fire. "Tristan." Her voice was unsteady, but she told herself it was because she was furious with him, and that's why she felt like shaking. She might have threatened that she would bite back, but now she knew if she did bite back, if she got that close, he'd take another bite out of her. Isolde yanked her hand free and used both of her hands to shove him back as hard as she could as color rose to her cheeks.
"You are such a bastard!" She started pushing him back as she rounded on him like an angry cat. "You're 'punishing' me because I'm wearing a dress? Back talking? Challenging you? Come now Tristan, be a bit more specific for your fight!" Each question was punctuated with a shove until she had him back against the filing cabinets. She might have been in heels, but she shoved hard, and she moved quick. "You wanted to annoy me? Piss me off? Congratulations, you did!" Her neck was starting to slowly throb now. Had his teeth nipped that hard? She put a hand to her neck and felt heat against her fingers and it dawned on her. "D-did you just mark me?!" Isolde hissed out a string of swears as she moved over to a mirror hanging on the wall and pulled her hair back. Her neck was pink, and by the heat she felt, it was going to be red. Her frozen statue moment when he held her was going to leave a mark on her neck, oh shit. She was actually shocked that he had gone through with it as she looked back at him. Heaven help him if his face was even remotely smug.
tristan belmont Boyyyyyyy you in trouble nowwwww especially since it's gonna leave a mark for workkkkk and like hell she's going to explain that.
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Magician
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Jul 11, 2015 20:56:29 GMT -5
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Post by tristan belmont on Jul 11, 2015 20:56:29 GMT -5
Well, he wondered how her 'date' was going to go now. Tristan had sucked pretty hard - and in a really visible place too. He figured the uniform wouldn't cover it either. It'll maybe last... A week? He couldn't help but smirk, smug at his handiwork. He'll look forward to tomorrow, seeing that little reminder. And that voice... That voice was of a woman tamed.
Too easy, he thought to himself. A bit disappointing, though. Well, he'd take what he could get. "I should do this more often if I get to hear you say my name like that. You really are something when I've got you like this, aren't you, kitty cat." He would be lying if he said he didn't get a reaction out of that - he did, and for a moment thought about giving into his carnal side.
And then she pushed him. Hard. Over and over and over again until he had his back against the cabinet and she was the one being dominant now. Not to say he didn't like it like that either. If she wanted to play that way, well, Tristan was all but obliging. Though she had caught him off guard, just a little bit, else he probably wouldn't have budged at all. And now the kitten's got claws. And Tristan... Kind of liked it. A lot. He wasn't lying when he said he liked women with a little fight in them. It excited him, in more ways than one. "Well aren't you a feisty little kitten today? If you wanted to be on top you only needed to ask."
Mission accomplished. She was annoyed and pissed off - his favorite kind of Isolde mostly because... Why did he like her like this? Was it her spirit? Her personality? The way she acted? He let out a laugh - she was being so predictable right now. "And my fight? I like doing this. It's fun. Do I need another reason?"
Tristan was an ass and he knew it. And he would probably never stop being an ass to Isolde. And he broke out into yet another smirk (he was just full of them today) as he realized that she realized the reality of his bite. She felt her neck, temporarily leaving him alone - a mistake. He couldn't help but laugh, mocking her. Turning her back away from him was yet another mistake. Could he get away with another bite, another taste?
He wanted to find out. He took large steps, then embraced her from behind, pressing her close. Her body was definitely very nice against him, close, his... Never mind that. A little more, then he'd leave her alone. He'd enjoy this feeling, because it would probably be the only time he would get. At least for a little while. This was strangely intimate. He leaned in close, whispered in her ear "If you want another to match, I can happily do that for you."
isolde savoy
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Jul 12, 2015 0:03:55 GMT -5
Post by isolde savoy on Jul 12, 2015 0:03:55 GMT -5
A woman tamed? If Isolde had any inkling to the thought process Tristan had right now, she would have been beyond furious, she would be on an explosive level. As it was, his smirky-smirk smirks that he was shooting at her were infuriating. She rubbed at the spot on her neck, which was now tender to the touch, as she looked in the mirror. 'I should do this more often if you say my name like that.' Kitty cat, kitten, little kitten, feisty kitten, and the claws. 'If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask~'
"You're such a damn pretentious asshole, don't you have some ass kissing or better yet real work to do? And if you touch me again without my express permission, I'll rip your pretty hair out by the roots." This mark wasn't about to go away within the next thirty minutes. In fact, over the course of dinner, it was only going to get worse. Isolde started to quickly pull her wavy hair over her marked shoulder, trying to hide it with her hair and rearranging some pins. She'd only gotten her hair mostly pinned before she felt arms wrap around her middle and a very strong wall of muscle pressed against her back. Any other time, any other situation, any other person, and she would have leaned backwards into the embrace. She would have relaxed, nestled into the pair of arms, and been content.
Isolde, to her credit, did not jump when he purred in her ear. The purr was smooth, and he knew exactly what he was doing as he held her. Strangely enough, with their heights, they sort of fit. If either one of them had been a different person, then maybe she wouldn't have gotten angry, or she would have whole heartedly encouraged the advances. Hell, she might have made advances herself, but that wasn't the point. He was too used to getting his way, for everything to be handed to him because he was smart and pretty. Today he was going home alone, with a little blood drawn if she had her way. She shot him a very angry look in the mirror as she pushed the final hair pin in place.
"Dammit, Tristan," she started pushing at his arms before she turned around and held true to her second threat. She grabbed a quick handful of hair and yanked hard, enough to throw him off balance and wipe that smug look off his face. She prayed he got a headache from it too as she quickly beat a hasty retreat out of reach. "Don't touch me, you don't have that privilege. And don't call me kitten! You're a conceited, pompous, arrogant Adonis who thinks any woman you touch is going to fall on her knees and it's just not true. If you want a body to screw, go find yourself a whore for the night, I'm not interested. If this.. this thing--" She motioned angrily to what her hair was hiding. "Isn't gone after I ice it down, and before work tomorrow, I personally guarantee that I will make your life a living nightmare until it fades. You're acting like a jealous boyfriend, putting your mark somewhere where everyone's going to be able to see it."
She stalked over to her purse and grabbed it, whirling around on him just to make sure he wasn't sneaking up behind her. Again. That beaded clutch was heavy enough that if she needed, she could probably use it as a weapon. It definitely had some weight to it, being five pounds with a rough texture to it. She was so tempted just to beat him over the head with it, just so the smug looks would disappear. She was confused, tired, hungry, and riled up (in more than one way, which annoyed her immensely). The clock on the wall chimed the hour and she quickly looked at it before swearing. "Fuck it all, I'm late and the files are everywhere." She looked at the files scattered on the floor and felt frustration mount along with the range of emotions she felt as she shot him another annoyed look. She wasn't about to bend over and pick them up, that would just give him too much opportunity and satisfaction. She made a growling sound in the back of her throat as she made a wide berth around him to angle for the door behind him. "You just stay out of my way Tristan." She'd have to re-find all of those files in the morning. She would have to do tomorrow what she could have done after dinner tonight. At this point, she wasn't even sure she wanted dinner, not with the hickey from hell developing on her pale throat. Marks showed so easily on her skin, from random bumps and bruises to... what was now going to be dubbed as "the thing" on her neck. And it was all that jerk's fault.
tristan belmont
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Magician
a 26 year old
colonel
with 34 posts and ,
played by kaga
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Jul 12, 2015 17:01:29 GMT -5
Post by tristan belmont on Jul 12, 2015 17:01:29 GMT -5
Fu-
He didn't think she's really do it, but lo and behold, she had him by his hair. Tristan lamented for a moment, before muttering a curse under hi breath. His beautiful, beautiful hair. Oh, she was going to get it now. Although there was a slight nagging in the back of his head saying that he deserved it, he ignored it. Because nothing was more important than his appearance, and she had just ruined it. And she could not be forgiven for this crime. He had tried to be nice (untrue), he had tried to be gentle (also untrue), and most of all, she should be glad he was giving her his attention (this was the only true thing honestly - in his mind, anyway).
But she was right - it did wipe the smug look off his face, but only for a moment. He stared at the mirror while Isolde was away, didn't want that bitch to soil his view of himself. Okay - so he rocked the tousled look. It wasn't half bad. But it hurt - it had really actually hurt. Not a turn on for him. He was done teasing for today - but only for today. Because now Tristan had figured out what really annoyed her to no end. Flirting. And that smirk was back again, probably to her chagrin.
"Hmmm, you've really got a mouth on you, you do." But he supposed, that was her charm? He got used to it after prolonged exposure to it. Still, when she got going, she got going. Though he did have to wonder about her words. Was he acting like a jealous boyfriend (yes he was)? No, that couldn't possibly be it. Just because he had the feeling once or twice, it was for the briefest of moments and should be dismissed and inconsequential. He was just teasing her. Annoying her. Infuriating her, in the best way that he knew how. And what better than to leave a mark - one that people will see and question her about. Which was nice, seeing as he didn't have to pester her twenty four seven.
"You know, Isolde, you could just say it. It's a hickey. I gave you a hickey. It's not a taboo word. People get them all the time." He narrowly missed the purse being swung at him. Reflexes, reflexes. He'd say needed to get back on the game - but usually he was out there. Lucky shot from her. He watched as she retreated away from the office, before shouting out "I'll look forward to seeing that hickey tomorrow!" before shutting the door close so that he himself could file the papers he set down in the beginning. Though something bothered him a bit.
It was a spur of the moment thing, when he knocked the files out of her hand. He had been annoyed. Beyond annoyed. But those folders... Most of them fell in a predictable pattern, scattered on the floor. He quickly filed his own stuff, before taking a peek at what she was looking at.
New recruits. Huh - it must be that time of year for her division. He gathered up the files, hopefully most of them, and then opened the door to stick out his head to see if anyone was there. No one. Not even Isolde. Oh, would he regret this later. But he had a curious feeling. And odd feeling. Like... feeling bad? Was that it? For Isolde? Nah... no way. No way in hell would he feel bad for her. Still, he walked over to her office, her little mail receiver thing, and dropped them in. He was doing a... nice thing for Isolde?
Well, that was a first, he thought as he left the premises.
isolde savoy
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