I've been writing and planning so many awful and often hilariously evil stories centering on Penelo as of late that I realized that I needed to write her in something sweet and fluffy before I turn into a complete literary sadist.

Of course, by sweet and fluffy, I mean fairly raunchy and possibly even downright filthy. (If I can flatter myself for a minute!) But damn it, at least she enjoys herself in this fic. Which I hope makes up for what I'm planning on doing to her in another series...

And as always, comments and constructive criticism (which is badly needed!) are welcomed dearly. My smut-writing skills have atrophied atrociously and I'm using this short piece to hopefully get them back up to speed.


Title: Talk Dirty To Me
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters/Pairings: Larsa/Penelo
Rating: R for fanfiction-dot-net, with considerable kink and political/philosophical foreplay
Summary: Sometimes a lady sky pirate needs to get... creative with her methods and means.
Note: Takes place about 7 years post-game. Larsa's 19 to Penelo's 23.

Warning: This not the full and complete story. I'm placing a chopped up and highly edited version of it on fanfiction-dot-net because it's not all smut and has some fun character interaction... but be aware that this is definitely toned down from the real thing. (Which is, frankly, very kinky.) If you'd like the real thing anyway, either look it up on my livejournal or PM/review me and I'll send you the link!


She started as soon as he had his mouth pressed against one of her breasts, his breath hot and moist against her bare skin and his quicksilver tongue already intent on exploring the real silver gilding the lily.

"You know," Penelo began,

(--and her voice was just a breathy stretch of soft gasps in between his actions-- in between her reactions-- pale skin patterning itself on a darker shade, his throat already imprinted with the marks of her incisors, flesh grinding against flesh as his soft black hair slid through her greedy fingers; if this was anywhere near what paradise would be like, she'd almost be tempted to start living righteously--)

"I never... ah! Never did… mmm, that is good… Never did quite get the… Kiltias, Larsa, you catch on quickly!… Did quite get the idea of… If you ever want me to finish this sentence you might-- Ohhhh!… Want to stop touching me…"

Larsa pulled his mouth away her soft, warm breasts with great reluctance-- at least if the increased pressure of his fingers between her thighs meant anything-- and gave her the sort of cheerfully lewd smile she wished she could inspire more frequently. "Would removing my mouth from its present activity at least help? I'm fond of believing that you appreciate what my hand is doing…"

Judging from the shudders of pleasure that were already radiating from the pressure of his calluses, he was all too correct here. But regardless, Penelo knew that some small things always had to be sacrificed for a greater good and if that small thing happened to be what was shaping up to be a ferocious orgasm…

Well, nobody ever said sacrifices were ever meant to be easy.

She compensated by pouting theatrically, wriggling away from Larsa's questing fingers and then smiling in that way that always did make him grin wolfishly. "I was just trying to say that I never did quite get the idea of a constitutional monarchy."

The determined fingers that had been gently stroking the silky, shivery skin of her inner thigh stilled instantly; it was a pity given Larsa's surprising sense of rhythm but the look on his face-- eyes wide and nostrils flaring and jaw dropped dramatically enough to hit the floor and continue a few flights down below-- made it more than worthwhile here.

But when he responded, his voice was still all too cultured and controlled; Penelo fought back a spasm of momentary defeat.

"Pardon me?"

With a smile that could have fooled any lesser man, she languidly extended a leg, letting one stockinged calf caress the soft skin of his boyish hips; his fingers came to caress it almost instinctively. "I'm just saying"-- and her voice was so innocent, it'd fool even Migelo on his best day, though surely Larsa had to know better-- "that it makes no damn sense to me."

After a moment, and after another one of those dry 'I Have No Idea Of What You Speak For Lo! You Are Maddening' stares that she had come to treasure so much over the last few months as his lover-- Larsa gifted her with a soft laughs and cupped her full hips in his large hands, bringing her back to him easily. "Oh, is that sincerely the case here?"

"I just mean..." --And she tilted her head back, letting him take in the sight of her long yellow hair free of its customary braids, almost taking in his look of quiet appreciation reflexively-- "Isn't the idea of some poor slob ruling over some enormous piece of territory just because his great grand-daddy-- ah! Oh hell, Larsa!"

He simply smiled patiently. She really should have known better than to have taught him that trick with his fingers... "Trying, darling. Most ardently trying."

But when next she thrusted back at him-- leading to paler pink caressing a darker shade of the same color, so much wetness from what he'd done before, so much excess heat-- he didn't look nearly as patient as he clearly wanted to be.

"Isn't it--" And she edged away on the desk he had previously propped her on, creamy thighs wide and already quivering but her face oh-so very serious, clearly all she wanted was a good debate, surely not anything of his in her body-- "Isn't it weird to think that there are some poor bastards out there that have to take over a kingdom or two just because their great-great-however-many-great-grand-dad

dy managed to look up from buggering a chocobo long enough to start a kingdom or country?"

Larsa couldn't have looked any more surprised if she had interrupted their play to slap him across the face with a live fish.

"Just think," she confided eagerly. "What if those sad little royal runts really weren't meant to rule, no matter what the oh-so-high-and-mighty had to say?"

"My god," he finally said and, if possible, looked even more provoked than when she had first broken into his imperial chambers and asked him if he wanted to take her over government forms to find out how durable they were, exactly. "Are you attempting to imply something about me?"

Penelo innocently blinked at him through her long fringe of silverfish lashes. "I have no idea what you mean, darling."

Looking rather more like a ruffled chocobo chick than he had in years, Larsa went on severely. "Are you insinuating that the entire modern foundation of Archadian royalty is merely a judicious lie? That thousands of generations of royalty in our entire continent have led us all astray? That everything I've worked for my entire life has rested on the foundations of mere political trickery?"

Giving in, Penelo balanced four fingers against her chin, making a show of thinking it over. "Not implying, Larsa. Stating. And why not, your Imperial Majesty? Makes as much sense as anything else here."

"I'd dispute that," he said, soft and ever-so-slightly hazardous, his voice low and intent as it rolled forth seemingly from his entire body. "You may be most dear to me but Lady Penelo… there are some things even you cannot possibly dare to speak publicly."

Very correct words and all, said with the proper gravity of a nobleman imparting wisdom on a benighted mistress who had managed to string together a few nouns and verbs improperly. But still… those strange, spooky, beautiful eyes of his-- those eyes that could go through people like a knife, those eyes that seemed to focus on some point at the back of their heads, those eyes that could slice through the resolve of others almost effortless….

More than anything, those wonderfully mad eyes of his simply looked intrigued..

And when she leaned over to mouth out her next words, those eyes of his didn't so much as stray from the sight of her cherry red lips and darting little tongue. Even the sight of her running her hands across her own breasts didn't distract him in the least.

That, more than anything else, was enough to tell her that she had him completely.

"Hit a little close to home?" she whispered and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Maybe you just got the chocobo buggering part of your family's past, Larsa. Who really says you're equipped to run an empire here?"

And when Larsa jerked, gave an almost breathy gasp and all but threw himself at her, Penelo allowed herself one long, lovely moment of immense self-satisfaction-- at least before he pushed her down onto his desk, trapped her slim arms down with the weight of her famed thighs and proceeded to all but thrust her senses straight out of her own body.

He had always been kind and gentle and tender in the past-- kind to the point of neurosis, gentle to the point of denying his own desires, tender to the point of flattening her arousal completely. She'd explained time and time again that she'd been living on the edge of danger since she'd been fourteen, that she hadn't even been a virgin when she'd met him, that gentleness was all well and good but that she was into harder play once in a while, that she appreciated a bit of honest ferocity. But for some reason-- Archadian repression, blue-blooded stuffiness, the fear of losing her, the fear that he'd turn into… into the monster that he had seen others transform into completely…

For whatever reason, Larsa had never been one to give into his desires when he was with her: never mind the fact that he loved to watch her be rough with herself, never mind that he never seemed to mind bruises or bites or even burns on his own body. He'd loosened up some during the last couple of months in their relationship-- he'd likely been just as tired as sh was with the decorous sex beneath sheets at night thing as well. But she knew there were so many things in Larsa that he wanted so desperately try, only to stop because he couldn't even trust his own appetite or body. And nothing she had tried with him yet-- not curling sweetly into his lap, not forcing him to beg for the pleasures of her flesh, not even allowing him a few evenings of treating her like his own personal slave girl, subject to his every perfidy-- had quite managed to break him free.

Still, she had never been the sort to give up; when one tactic didn't work, she made a point of moving onto another switfly. Being predictable, after all, was like the kiss of death to any lass that made grand larceny a living-- and Penelo damn well knew the value of being able to move from one style to another after suffering a defeat.

And when Larsa had actually requested that she use rather… unorthodox language with him the last time they had planned out a rendezvous… she simply couldn't help herself, honestly. Even if it had taken a bit of creativity to figure out what would rile him up, it seemed to be working perfectly.

And when she stopped him mid thrust--

"Don't look at me like that," Penelo said tartly. "I'm just trying to unfold yet another… horizon for a fellow hume being. If anything, I'm going on a mission of mercy."

"Ah," Larsa said dryly. "In that case…" But though his panting breath showed his eagerness readily, he still hesitated after the glow of her healing esuna settled over him. "I mean… are you sure? I… I understand now that you've been trying to demonstrate your strength in all capacities but… perhaps we should try something else… which wouldn't compromise you… I mean, that is a rather delicate part of your anatomy…"

If you gave Larsa enough time, the man could talk the sun into rising from the west and hovering in the sky perpetually. Still, no good pirate got anywhere without some general cunning; three seconds was all the time Penelo needed to improvise on her feet.

"Also," she added sweetly, "I've never heard of anything nearly as stupid or insipid or idiotic or just plain disgustingly manipulative as the entire reason behind the divine right of kings. You ought to be ashamed of resorting to that argument in Archades."

And that, thank god, did the trick-- though possibly even better than she needed it to here--

And when he finally collapsed back upon her, panting and laughing and sighing and groaning, his breath feathering against her throat in gentle puffs as he eased himself out and off her gently. And when she toppled over the desk he'd taken again to collapse atop his prone body in his chair, Larsa merely embraced her and laughed softly.

"Good god, woman," he whispered tenderly against her neck. "Do you have any idea how astonishingly odd you can be? You're amazing, exquisite and possibly a smidgen insane. How the hell do you always manage these things?"

And in response, Penelo merely wriggled deeper into his lap-- she had to hand it to the Archadians, they made their furniture very sturdy-- and beamed at her very own imperial majesty.

"I guess you could say that both politicians and sky pirates have to know how to really talk dirty."


Author's Note: I haven't written smut in a long time and I was hoping to use this as a way of wading back into the waters. I'm working on a Larsa/Penelo mini-series with the awesome Vash's Girl that goes into NC-17 territory and I'm toying with the idea of a Larsa/Penelo/Vayne fic (that's more sad than anything else, oddly) and a Knots Alternate Universe fic with 16 year old Larsa experimenting with a fairly ticked off Penelo. (That'd be raunchy and wrenching in about equal measure.) I'm not sure what I'm tackling first, honestly.

So did you like this piece? Was it sexy? Funny? Romantic? Disgusting? Unbelievable? Could I have made it any more erotic somehow? (Though I know it's hard to tell from this chopped-up version of the story.) Did the ending fizzle out from the stronger middle part? Do you have any preferences for what you'd like to see me try next? Let me know, darlings-- I eagerly await your opinion here!