#i have seen some wild books in the back room of my work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lucrativesoul · 9 months

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Espionage

summary: working in an underground crime syndicate, your job gets risky, but, the more risk, the more reward. you jumped the gun on your thievery through an art museum, and come across one certain guard who is adamant on stopping you in your path.

pairing: guard!leon kennedy x female reader

word count: 11.5k

warnings: smut, fingering, choking, slight degradation, dom leon

a/n: yall know i had to do one with tactical gear leon i mean come onnnn look at him!!! (patrick voice) i went a little wild with this one LOL i really thought it was gonna be my shortest work yet and here we are. the plot of this was inspired by Death Prefers Blondes by Caleb Roehrig! if you guys liked the idea of our mc's job here, i suggest you check out that book, its a really great young adult read! i had so much fun with this one, i really hope i didn't keep you guys waiting. i hope you enjoy, thank you endlessly for the support, and I will see you soon :)

Taking a deep sigh, you reclined yourself back as far as you could in the stiff chair, which wasn’t much. The light above you was flickering, to your annoyance, but you kept quiet about it, focusing instead on the rapid typing on the keyboard from the man in front of you. The room was cold, and you pulled your sweatshirt tighter around you. You knew to come prepared this time.

You hoped you would get out of here before the traffic rush. You hated having to come all the way out here, but, after all, it was your job.

To explain how you came into this would take too long, as you tell everyone, so simply put: Some connections in your life led to other connections, and those connections allowed you to quit your two part time jobs and become a full time criminal. Literally.

You met this man, Carlos, at the gym where you liked to spar with some of the trainers when they weren’t in sessions. Simulating a fight was not something you had expected to find a lot of entertainment in, but when you got up there in front of someone and were forced to defend yourself with blocks and punches and kicks, it introduced a whole new adrenaline into your world. Keeping up with your physical shape had definitely aided in your ability to be nimble, and your history of (attempted) gym consistency helped build muscle.

Carlos had pulled you aside after a sparring session with another trainer, impressed by your moves, and had told you he wants to see you put it to the real test. He offered you a spot in the gym he frequented (which was, to your horror at first, the sketchiest building you had ever seen in your life from the outside), paired you with a trainer who wasn’t afraid to throw real punches, and before you knew it, you could fight an array of builds and heights.

From there, you kept talking to people who knew people who knew Carlos, and he weaseled you into his line of work where he trusted you to go on the scene of whatever was the target, and sold all of your loot. He was your fence, you were his robber. Quite simply.

A real threat of danger hung over your head on every job, and you knew this well enough. There was always the chance of getting caught, considering every location had guards 24/7. There was always a chance you could get hurt; fall from a high location, the failure of equipment, get shot for fucks sake, but you loved the adrenaline it gave you. You felt on top of the world, and in the back of your mind, you knew this would surely be considered an addiction, but you didn’t care. Every new job upped the ante, and you needed more.

The second deep breath you took expanded your lungs, the stretch feeling good after not moving for several minutes now. You rolled your head side to side, hearing the crack, and turned your attention back to Carlos, who finally started talking again.

“I have buyers in Europe lined up for these.” He looked down at the desk, an array of shiny stones and metals bent in intricate shapes and chains laid out in front of him. Courtesy of yours truly. “A few are interested in the same piece, but they can argue with themselves, I’m only going to sell it to them, I’m not the mediator.” He sighed and pushed back in his rolling chair, pulling open a file cabinet and a manila folder.

“Where in Europe? Can we hand deliver?” You couldn’t help but grin slightly, and Carlos didn’t have to look up from his papers to know you were.

He shrugged. “If you want to risk receiving a chest cavity the size of a gold ball, knock yourself out.” He knew you were joking, and you knew the rules well enough. Knowing who your buyers were, and going within any sort of vicinity of them while knowing their identity was strictly off limits. He turned his head towards his computer again. “Venice. Nice.” He turned towards you. “Budapest. The usual.”

You nodded. You were expecting some sort of answer along the lines of that, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to you. Oh, how it would be nice to be in Europe, though.

“Here’s the deal.” Carlos put the folder of papers down in front of you, and you lazily scanned it, knowing that most of it was going to look like gibberish anyways. Carlos was the man in between here, you simply stole things. You didn’t deal with the numbers and the logistics. “The man who is in the battle for our largest emerald is willing to step aside and let our Venetian buyer take the cake, because he reached out with another job that he and only he wants to be in the running for.”

You scoffed. “Dude must be loaded then. A solo job?”

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. “He gave me parameters for the job, and I almost turned him down without even running it by you, to be honest.”

You sat up straight. “The fuck, Carlos? Give it to me, I can take it.”

He sighed and slouched back in his chair. You were honestly surprised that Carlos was not the one in your spot. He was insanely built and could easily take down four armed guards at once, but you never found out why he chose to be behind the scenes. At least you knew he trusted you enough not to put you in anything that would be instant death.

“There’s apparently an heirloom to this guy’s lineage sitting in a chamber room of the gallery downtown. He’s been trying to find a means to reach it and claim it back for years, but, according to him, the museum won’t budge on letting him anywhere near a buying price.”

You let his words sink in. “What’s so bad about that?”

Carlos sighed again. “It’s an art gallery.” He stared at you, waiting for you to get the point. “They have armed guards posted day in and day out. Alarms at every possible entrance and cameras watching every square inch of the place. It’s just not feasible.”

You shook your head. “Carlos, come on. I know you have access to the technical means that we need to do our surveillance. We can watch their route. We can track who does what nights and who might be the easiest to take down. I did that at the villa two weeks ago.”

“Yes, and you nearly lost your life. I was shooting myself in the foot for putting you out there.”

You shook your head again. Part of you was thankful that Carlos had the decency to regret his decision of accepting that job, and feeling remorse once you reported back that one of the bodyguards had you in a near death chokehold before you managed to, by luck, weasel free. Even you were still haunted by that. But you would never let it slow you down, and would never tell Carlos, as he would surely put you in safer locations. Which meant less fun.

“I’m just saying, now that it’s been done, I can do it again. And be careful about it this time. I want to do this Carlos, I believe I can.”

Carlos was silent for a moment, thinking over your words. He sighed.

“I want our people staking out on the perimeter the whole time. I don’t want to hear objections. There will be a team this time, this is not just somebody’s home. This is government and city property, if you don’t die, you and I are as good as dead in the prison system.”

You quirked a small smile. “Come on Carlos.” He lazily held eye contact. “You think I’d rat you out like that?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was fighting the urge to smile as well. “Be back here tomorrow at 12. We’ll start our prep.”

–

You, Carlos, and two other men were huddled around a plethora of screens deep in the trenches of Carlos’ office. One of the monitors had split screen CCTV surveillance, six cameras watching the main galleries and two hallways, one was a datamine of the encrypted content regarding the people employed to stand guard at the museum, and the others were floor plans of each floor and wing of the gallery.

The size of the place didn’t scare you, in fact, it only brought more excitement to your job. As soon as Carlos brought up the blueprints and started mapping escape routes and how to avoid camera sightings, you memorized it instantly. This would be a breeze.

“Here’s who we need to look out for.” He drew up a site that had profiles of each of the seven guards that do night duty. Their employee photos looked like mugshots. “These three guys guard the east wing, these two rotate between west wing and foyer since that is the smallest wing and closer to the entrance, and these two are usually staked out by the rear gallery.”

“You seem to already have this down, Carlos.” You mumbled.

He snickered from in front of you. “I’ve been watching already.”

You sighed through your nose. “Going to turn down this job my ass.”

“We’re expecting these two to be in the west wing the night of the heist. I’ve been watching, and they tend to rotate, but there’s a pattern. I’m sure it will be them.” You nodded, listening closely to his words. Carlos might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you knew he didn’t mess around with ensuring the best possible route. “One stands in the wing while the other stands in the foyer. They rotate at the same time, so there is a small window when no one is watching the far end of the gallery.”

“How am I getting in there? Hanging out overnight?” It was a partial joke, but you never knew with this team.

Carlos shook his head, and diverted everyone’s attention to an isolated map, similar to the layout of the floor plan. “This is the duct system.” You stifled a laugh. You should have expected this. “Big enough for a person like you. The duct room is locked whenever no one is accessing them, and the only people that do are the janitorial team, and Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday are the only times they are sweeping the building.”

“Literally, sweeping.”

Carlos sighed heavily at your remark. “The system that is connected to the electronic lock is also connected to what controls the cameras and the lights. I can get you in there, but only in a very small window of time. It needs to be during the day.”

“The day.” You echoed. “So, I’ll be camped out in there for a while, then?”

Carlos nodded. You knew what you were about to get yourself into. It came with the job description, and before the job actually launched into action, you knew that familiar feeling of anxiety blossoming in your chest. You had been in the gym consistently, trying to find someone to mock a chokehold with you in the case that it happened all over again. If it did, you decided Carlos didn't need to find out.

You knew you were physically ready. The odds of going against a huge man didn't look great from the outside, but you were flexible, and fast, and if you could bounce around their sights, you could steer clear of any sort of altercations.

“Yes, you’ll be in there for a while. It’s the only way.” You nodded again. You knew there was no such thing as comfort in this line of work. If you get too comfortable, you might as well get ready to be comfortable in a jail cell, or in the afterlife. “We move in Thursday night. Just to be sure that the cleaning happens Wednesday and we won't get any surprises. You’ll enter at 4 PM. I’ll be watching all morning to decide what you should wear to make the least waves possible and so you can disappear when they close at 6. Regular day employees stay until 7:30, then the guards move in, but we can’t make our moves until well after sunset.” Carlos was looking mostly at you, as the other teammates he rounded up were just going to stake out the perimeter. “You know the prep. Make sure you last while you wait.”

–

You spent the next week in the office watching everyone’s moves. The guards followed a monotonous routine in which areas they patrolled. Odd, considering they might want to watch for corners where people could stay hidden.

They all stuck to their schedules, no employee stayed later than an hour and a half after closing, guards immediately did a sweep of the whole building for the lame thieves who attempted to hide in bathrooms, before they stuck to their positions, and that’s where they stayed for the night, until 5 AM. You were positive you had this down now, there was no way you could be wrong.

There was, of course, but you preferred to pretend otherwise.

The guards rotated as predicted, and with every step they took every passing day you grew more confident in this job. That person who was commissioning this should be well willing to tip generously considering the amount of prep taking place.

You swallowed the lump of anxious nerves, pushing yourself into your work mindset as you sat outside the museum, the breeze cooling down your heated skin. Carlos had been keeping watch of the patrons since opening, and he concluded the appropriate outfit for you to don would be a tan hoodie, light wash jeans, and you didn’t have many options in the way for shoes, a simple pair of white sneakers having to do the trick. You knew they would be watching at the door, a metal detector as well as bag checks were mandatory, so you couldn’t risk a bag, but you had all you needed strapped underneath your clothes to your second skin layer– a skintight bodysuit, equipped with maximum breathability and flexibility– and all of your weapons holstered as close as they could get.

With nothing else except your phone (which was off) and wallet (with a fake ID), you walked up the steps, blending in with the bustle, but knowing well enough to not look too suspicious. You knew the rest of your team was around the perimeter, out of your view, and you were going to hear from Carlos for the first time when it was necessary for you to hide. He was never on location, he was seated safely in his office, every screen lit up with hacked CCTV footage and an in-ear device to communicate directly to you.

You took yet another deep breath in. You got this. You had to.

You knew you had time to kill while you waited to hear from Carlos. It couldn’t be right away, that would look too unnatural if you made a beeline past too many priceless works of art. So, not begrudgingly, you strolled through the galleries, admiring the timeless art, feeling inspired, excited, the sun streaming in through the glass ceilings of some of the halls.

It was mostly quiet, the murmur of people surrounding you, discussing what they were looking at, the occasional kid running by. As much of an admirer you were, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your arms and hands, dying to get started. But, as Carlos taught you well, patience was a virtue, and if you rushed things, it could get bad, and fast.

After a lap, which lasted close to an hour, you sat on a bench in the west wing. You knew this was close to where you needed to be, and it would be easier to stay close in case the window of opportunity arose when you weren’t expecting it, which was typical.

You toyed around with a pamphlet you had picked up near the entrance, still keeping an eye out for any employee, or any guard, which would be out of place at this time. It was nearing 5:30 now, and they were going to be closing in 30 minutes. Your heart rate quickened at that thought, knowing they were going to be sending employees to do loops and tell people their time was being cut short. You slowly straightened your posture, trying not to look too alert, trying to calm down–

“--in, come in. Connected to base, CCTV footage overrode, stations manned.” You heard Carlos’ crackly voice through your in-ear, and you slumped backward, relieved.

“Copy.” You kept your voice low and mouth movements to a minimum. “I assume you know where I’m at.”

“Bench in the back left of the west wing. The duct room is also being watched. It has been looking clear for the last ten minutes, give me another five to make sure, then I will give you instructions.”

You gave a slight nod, knowing he could see you. You kept up your previous charades, reading the same script for the fifth time on the pamphlet, people watching, and employee watching. The next five minutes took way too long.

“Get up slowly and walk along the wall to the left. Someone is coming down the hallway telling people there is 20 minutes to closing. Let him pass you, acknowledge what he said, and let him get about 20 feet ahead.” You shifted in your seat, pushing yourself up. Taking another look at the paintings hung on the walls, you realized as you approached– this was the one you were meant to take. You were so tempted to stand here and look at it, but you didn’t want to draw a suspicious coincidence in the mind of the employee who would see you standing in front of it. One glance later, and you moved on.

“Excuse me,” A soft voice spoke from behind you. You turned around, and acted surprised. A short man with dark hair had a friendly smile on. “The gallery will be closing in 20 minutes, just a heads up.” You nodded a thank you, and promised to move on swiftly.

“Ten seconds, then when you walk through the aisle in between the columns, there’s a hallway to the left. You’ll have a really small window to duck into the door on the left side and wait while I override the door code.”

“Code?!” You whisper-shouted, taking care to keep your voice low. “This should have been something you told me earlier.”

“Don’t worry, I have access to it and can let you in. It will only take one more second, but you have to be quick with this door, you know that.” You sighed, knowing he was right. Your steps were quiet, but firm, and you caught sight of the small hallway he was talking about. “There’s no one behind you, but we can’t guarantee that’s permanent.” Oh, yes, you knew that was the truth. You wanted to turn around, but fought against it, not wanting to catch anyone’s eye.

Step, breath, step… “Go, now, hurry.” You careened quickly to the left into the hallway, knowing anyone would notice you if they walked by. “Two seconds…” Carlos configured the software to the door’s electronic lock as you approached and stood there, heart hammering. You pulled your sleeve over your hand. You heard the click. “You’re in, move.” You pushed down on the door handle with your sleeved hand and creeped into the room, wasting no time in shutting the door. You waited for the command before you moved. “You made it blindly. No one noticed you.” You sighed gently. “To your left, there's a switch. Flip the one in the middle. It’s the nightlight.”

You did as told, relaxing slightly now that you could see. The room looked exactly as expected. It was more of a closet, really. There was an electric panel on the wall opposite the door, a rack of cleaning supplies to the right, and in the left corner across from you, a large duct sock extending from a fixture that was taller than you. You had no idea where it led to, as it disappeared up into the ceiling, but you had a feeling that’s where you were destined to spend the next handful of hours.

You took your time inspecting the room, knowing there was going to be nothing quick about this next step. Behind the large fixture that filtered the air and sent it through the duct, there was a small passageway blocked by a vent grate. Carlos had told you vis in-ear to unscrew the large grate and tuck yourself in there. At least it was right next to the cooling system, and you could shed some layers. It would get hot, and quickly, in there.

Time ticked by slower than ever as you were stretched out in the vent, now loose from your jeans and sweatshirt. Your bodysuit was keeping you cool, and you managed your breathing whenever you remembered so you would be able to keep your core temperature as stable as possible. You ran over the plan once, twice, a thousand times, and maybe even drifted off once or twice, by the time you heard Carlos’ voice again, sounding angelic after all this time.

“Hey, you awake in there?” His soft, crackled voice sounded through your brain.

“As ever. What’s the time?” You whispered back, shocked at how far the smallest vocal sound carried through the metal tube.

“Close to 11PM. We have to get moving soon.” You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you.

“Can I push this thing open? Can someone hear me from here?”

“Give me two seconds, I need to make sure I can disable central control of the cameras so no one else watching security can see. We don’t need any unnecessary backup here.” You let Carlos do his thing from base, and tried your best to stretch your limbs getting ready to move. “Okay, this will take a few minutes, but in thirty seconds, the rotation from west wing to foyer is going to start. Countdown, then crawl out as carefully as possible.”

Breathing steadily, countdown rapidly ticking in your head, you started at thirty, gripping the grate as much as you could once you hit one, and pushed outwards. You had managed to click the metal back in place behind you once you crawled in, but it wasn’t the most subtle sound. Now, it counted even more that it was timed right.

With a solid shove and a louder than you expected click (and a wince), and shimmied your way out of the vent, placing the metal onto the ground with the slowness of a turtle. You had no idea if anyone was going to open the door to this right now, so you just had to trust that the silence from Carlos meant that nothing was about to go wrong.

You stood up, sighing deeply when you could finally stretch out before getting to move for the first time in nearly 6 hours. The spandex of your bodysuit contoured with your body, and you felt unrestrained as you stretched out, ready to be as light on your feet as possible. There was a small holster on your thigh, where a retractable baton was strapped in tight, and one around your waist, holding onto three tiny knives– stainless steel– the closest thing that would get you through the detectors without being flagged. Fingers crossed they wouldn't need to be used.

“The rotation just finished, so in about ten more minutes, our window will open for you to come out and stay hidden. Remember where all the sculptures are layed out?”

“Yeah, I do.” You continued to stretch through Carlos’ words. “I’m ducking out of here at your command, softly shutting the door. I come quietly to the opening of the hallway and duck out to the right, hide behind a column and stay low.” You recited again, and heard Carlos give a hum of approval.

“Just hang tight for now, I’ll let you know when you need to start moving. Security override is almost done. Remember, they’re gonna try and reboot the system immediately, which will take another minimum five minutes, max ten. Be light on your feet, move fast.”

You steadied your breathing once again, flexing everything in your body to make sure you were adequately stretched out and ready for action. You had never felt more so.

“Exit the room in twenty seconds. Start counting.”

You pounced on your feet at the sound of Carlos’ voice after a few minutes, gloves on your hands (which had also been hidden in a pocket of the bodysuit), and gripped the handle, counting just to the pace you had been trained to.

“Move.”

You and Carlos reached the countdown at the same time, and you pressed the metal handle down and inched the door open, swiftly, but not enough to cause the hinges to make noise. You slithered out, and once you had the door shut again without a sound, you dropped down onto your knees, walking in a crouch to the entrance of the gallery.

You were hidden immediately by a column. You peeked out, knowing there wouldn’t be a guard in the aisle but checking anyway, and waddled over to the next column, feeling your heart rate increase with every step. Peeking around, you spotted the guard, who was walking slowly towards the middle of the west wing. He had his hands by his sides, gun holstered on his hip. Not much more than an average cop’s bulletproof vest on his body.

You waited for him to reach the center and do a lazy turn, back towards you, to run to the next column. Time was ticking, but as long as he stayed right where he was, you would be able to secure this artwork and disappear.

You reached the next column, and the next, all the while the guard was still turned, and you ducked back whenever he did a mandatory sweep of the area behind him. You could see the painting you needed from your current position. If Carlos had it under control, he could stifle the alarm system at the very second you used one of the knives to cut the cords and rip it from his ceiling holsters. You could tell on your first walk by this afternoon that it was nothing more than a heavy fishing wire, and it could be done soundlessly.

One more column, and you could see the guard from your hunched over position. You were pretty well hidden behind the column itself and a sculpture sat in front, and slightly to the left of it. You heard him sniffle, and shift his weight again before turning around, and crouch-running to the column that sat just to the right of the painting. This was it.

You had your head parked solidly right behind the column, watching the guard. He was still facing you, looking up at the ceiling, down all the obvious passageways, and then he turned. It was now or never.

You creeped forward, hand over the knife on your holster, ready to slice through the cord on the wall. You were waiting for Carlos’ sign that the alarms had been disabled. Nothing, but you had no time to wait. You had to try it.

You pulled the knife from the holster and pushed the blade out, gloved hand gripping the frame, and in two swift movements, the wires giving a slight shing with the cut, it was loose, no alarms, and you dropped back to the ground and ran.

Taking the same caution on the way back as you did on the way over, you stopped at columns to watch the guards, and by the tell-tale sign of him stalking forward once, you knew the rotation was about to happen.

You grew closer and closer back to the duct room; through the vents as your only way out.

Taking the opportunity of no guard in the hall, you went as fast as you could in a crouch, seeing the opening for the hallway mere feet away. It was home free. Another job done.

Still in the clear, your heart hammering, you dove forward into the hallway, not wasting anymore time. You reached the hallway, turned the corner, and found yourself staring straight into the barrel of a gun.

Stopping short, nearly screaming out, you could only stare as you tried to identify the person behind it. You couldn’t move, your limbs were frozen in place. You could not hear Carlos, you didn’t even know if he saw you cut the line. He had the alarms disabled, clearly, but where was he? And who was this man?

You couldn’t see the bottom half of his face. Behind the large gun he had pointed at you, he had a black neck gaiter covering from his nose down. His eyes were hard, eyebrows deeply furrowed, they looked blue in the dim light. His blonde hair was pushed off his forehead, stiff with gel. He was covered neck to feet in gear, a large, bulletproof vest and cargo pants, not another inch of skin showing. He was crouching to your height. Clearly, he knew you would be coming back here. What the fuck was going on?

He tilted his head in a mocking gesture at you, making fun of your momentary stupidity. You wanted to fight, but you knew better. If you drew attention now, you would be vastly overpowered very quickly.

“Looking for an easy escape?” His voice was deep and husky, and for a moment you thought this was someone on your team. But no, they were told strictly to stay outside under all circumstances. This was not someone trying to help you. He was trying to capture you.

“Who are you?” You whispered, praying that Carlos was listening, feeling more panicked that you couldn’t hear him.

He shook his head. He was not in the mood to be courteous. “Go to the door behind me to my left. If you make noise, I’ll kill you. If you fight, I’ll kill you. Go,”

Your breath hitched, you could fight him with a knife, but with the barrel aimed straight for your brain, it was no use trying right now. You needed a plan, and quick. But for now, you had to obey.

Your legs felt like jelly as you stayed low and walked over to the door, the stranger backing up and keeping his gun trained on you the whole time. When you approached it, you stood up, looking back at him. He nudged his gun forward in a go in gesture, and with a deep breath, you quietly pushed the handle downwards and walked in.

This was not the duct room, which was the door on the other side of the hallway. Why had you not seen this door, why did Carlos also not seem to know about this door? When you walked in, you for real almost choked this time, it was the goddamn control room. The very one that Carlos had overridden to let you get into the museum after hours in the first place. Oh, you were fucked.

“You thought you had it all planned, huh? I’ve been sitting here this whole goddamn time watching you. I saw you walk in, I saw you sit down, I saw you go into the hallway, I was waiting for you.” Your stomach ran cold, not knowing what to do now. Carlos was MIA. He surely must be frantic. Was he going to send the team in?

You were staring straight ahead at the vast array of monitors, way more than Carlos had. Every inch of the museum was being watched. You saw the screen with the duct room hallway. It was in the rightmost corner. The control room door was hidden from this angle. This room had been scrubbed from blueprints. You would have seen it, you know it.

The chair in front of you was pushed out, most likely from this man standing up to meet you when you returned. A coat, issued with the museum’s logo, was draped over the chair. You could see a nametag pinned to the front. Leon S. Kennedy. That name did not sound familiar.

You squeaked out when the barrel of the gun hit you square in between the shoulder blades. “Your buddies can’t save you now, you know. Next time they try to do this, they’ll have to do more than just some book research.”

You took a steady breath, urging yourself to sound more collected than you felt. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Leon Kennedy.”

He scoffed. “Don’t act so fucking smart because you know how to read.” He used his gun once more to push your shoulder so you could spin around and face him. You could only stare as he maintained his composure. His eyes were not softening up. “Did you think you could be in and out with this one? Just like all the others?” You tried to fight it, but you felt your face scrunch in confusion. How does he know about the others? He made another sound, like a laugh, and you could almost see the outline of his cocky smile underneath his mask. “Don’t act like you stayed off of anyone’s radar. Your little fence isn’t exactly a low profile criminal in the underground market.” Your stomach sank. He knew about Carlos. He knew about the whole ring, he had been watching you!

“This was… Is this even a real job?” You spat out, feeling more and more of a struggle to breathe.

Finally, Leon put down his gun. He knew he had you under his fingers. He crossed one more step to get in your face, looking down at you. “Like I said… Your buddies need to be more careful with what they decide to take on.” He muttered at you.

Something clicked inside of you. It was a life or death situation, and there were no more good outcomes. With the swiftness of air, you shot your right hand up, connecting your fist with the side of Leon’s jaw. It caught him off guard, but it did no more than knock him back a couple of steps. That was a hard jaw.

You used those two seconds to your advantage as you sprung forward, using the chair behind you as leverage as you kicked into his chest with both feet, sending him flying backwards, knocking the gun loose from his grip. He almost fully lost his balance, and you rocketed forward, finishing him off and wanting to send him straight to the floor.

It seems, though, you underestimated how well trained this man might be. He never hit the floor, and from the second you sent him reeling backwards, he was already connecting the distance between you two again, and he ducked when you sent another leg flying at him. He hooked your other leg in his grip, turning you over and forcing you to fall to the floor on your back, effectively rendering your lungs useless.

You gasped for air, finding the strength to fight back, and before he could unlatch himself from the leg he had a grip on, you tightened your other around his throat, tucking his neck right under your knee, and you squeezed hard.

Finding air again, and still keeping Leon in a chokehold, you pushed yourself up, and rolled the both of you over, so you were now essentially sitting on top of him, pushing his body into the ground as you kept him senseless. The dominance didn’t last long, as he pushed himself up, slamming you, once again, into the ground, loosening your leg, and escaping.

Your attempts at punches were meek, and he gripped both of your wrists in his hands and pinned them down; it was useless. It was over. During the altercation, most likely while he was being choked out, his gaiter slipped down, now wrapped around his neck. The rest of his features match the top half, and god dammit why did you have to make enemies with a man who looks like he should be on display in this very place?

“You should stop trying to fight me.” He grumbled from over you. You knew he had the upper hand now, definitely physically, but you weren’t going to stop.

“And just accept defeat? Accept whatever is going to happen next?” Despite knowing it would be useless, you attempted to break free from Leon’s grip anyway. It resulted in a tighter grasp around your wrists, and you winced. “What do you want from me? You set this up just to catch me. But you’re on the inside, too. You can’t nail us without incriminating yourself.”

If it was even possible, his face hardened further. He lowered his body to bring his face inches from yours, and you found yourself not turning away from his gaze.

“Maybe that’s just not what I’m after.”

The sentence brought your mind to a complete blank. What else could he be after? If he was employed by the museum you were currently trying to steal a painting from and sell it for thousands, shouldn’t he want to take you down to protect the art? Wouldn’t he want to put you and your team in jail for the crimes you all have committed?

“So, what? You just wanted to take me down? Try and make me fail? To prove something to yourself?” You were desperate at this point to hear something from Carlos, and the more time went by, you were sure Leon must have done something to the connection. Since he already knows… “Why can’t I hear my team?” You barked at him.

He quirked a cocky grin once again. “I don’t need you calling for unnecessary help. I’ve got it taken care of.” With one harsh movement, he adjusted both of your wrists so they were being held by his left hand. He then used his right to rip the in-ear out, making you cry out when the tape was torn from behind your ear. He kept tugging the cord until the tiny transmitter, which was clipped to the inside of your bodysuit, just below your shoulder, was out in the open, and tossed it aside. He was putting increasing pressure on your wrists, and you couldn't help but writhe.

“Let me go, I don’t get why you’re doing this.” You started a struggle again, but he shut it down swiftly. “Why me, Leon, why us? Surely we can’t be the only underground heist group within the vicinity, surely someone else must have tried to break in here.”

Leon stared at you for a moment from his place above you. His expression gave nothing away about his thoughts, and it was aggravating you endlessly. He thought he was all that. You were pissed off, because you also felt like that was true. He did manage to fumble your route and tackle you and cut you off from comms. Asshole.

He lifted himself off of you slowly, and you felt the pressure around your wrists disappear. He was straddling you now, his large legs encapsulating you on both sides, his arms looked massive from this angle. His vest was littered with utility pouches, and you weren't sure you wanted to find out what was in them. The gaiter was slack around his neck, and you felt so tiny, submissive, and rapidly heating up under his half lidded gaze. You can’t believe you went over his employee profile. You would have remembered a face like his.

“You’re right. You are not alone in this ring of underground syndicates, frankly, not even the first to have been here. I took on a few of them. I’m not actively working to destroy the network that you work out of, I’m just doing my job. Why should I let thieves get away with it just because they’re good at what they do?” You stared at him as he spoke. You couldn't believe how much information he truly had, and how much more he would surely not reveal to you. “I didn’t care about the other bunch, they were all dirty criminals doing it for the money with no real talent and no morals, so, fuck them, I’ll bust them when they step into my territory.” He lowered himself again, and now he was holding himself above you, arms on either side of your head. He was staring straight down into your eyes. “But then you appeared on my radar. I was surprised to see a woman in this line of business. That’s not common. I had to watch you closely. Maybe my own ignorance made me think that you would be out of play quicker than you even started, but when I discovered you had taken down two men larger than me and turned around a chokehold that surely would have killed you, I couldn't help but be impressed.”

You couldn't stop the scoff that escaped your lips. “Fuck you. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I worked my way up to where I am now.” Your sentence was cut short when he placed a rough hand on your chin, holding it in his palm.

“Shut up.” You ground your jaw, holding back snarky comments that would put you in a worse position. His demeaning command twisted your stomach in an unfamiliar way. “When I noticed your skill, as you needed to throw in there before I finished, I saw a challenge. I couldn’t just let it go.”

No words came out of your mouth right away, still trying to process his. You shook your head in confusion. “Challenge?”

“I like a woman that can put up a fight.” Leon said nothing more, daring you to stay something in retaliation. You kept your mouth shut, unsure of what kind of response you should even give. You squinted your eyes at him, but he didn't falter.

“What kind of job even is this?” His grin grew. The anger and frustration mixed with something foreign in your stomach. You curled your toes instinctively at this feeling. “Setting me up for failure just to wrestle me so you can get a workout?”

He shook his head slightly, that glint in his eyes not fading. “It’s not all about me, you know. You’re my challenge right now, yes, but I see something in you. I want you on my side.”

“Your side? Are there sides to be had here?”

“Sure there is,” His voice dropped to a low whisper now. You realized in that moment how quiet the room was. After the altercation the two of you had, you concluded it must be soundproof. There would have been a guard here by now. “You can fight. You're a spy. You’re practically invisible. That would be so useful to me. With me. I can give you that, you won’t have to worry about the inevitable end of this.”

You finally brought your hands down by your sides, and he didn’t move to stop you. “Here? You want to offer me the occasional chance of action from the museum?”

“You said it yourself.” His gaze hardened once more, and you suddenly remembered how harsh he was towards you five minutes ago. “I’m on the inside. I’m just as dirty as you guys are.” You stared, fighting the urge to gape your mouth. Someone on the inside, working right under everyone’s nose? “With me, I can make sure you’ll never face the threat of being shut down. Thrown in jail for years, for life. Carlos can’t do that.” You felt a twist at the mention of Carlos’ name, hoping he was alright.

You hated yourself for even letting that thought flick across your mind momentarily. You and Carlos were a team, he taught you everything, yes, but he had no other ‘ins’ in the world to protect you from the law. You were on your own in the field. He just directed you.

Leon had the connections. Leon worked with them. There was a chance that he really could keep you safe.

“What’s…” You grit your teeth, and swallowed hard, hating this position. “What’s in it for me? I’d be losing what I worked for the last few years. Just to be under your belt now.”

He shook his head. “You’re not losing. You’re gaining.” He came dangerously close to your face, yet again, you didn't move away. “Trust me.”

With nothing left to say to him, your body only had one way to react. You quickly hooked your left arm around Leon's neck, holding him in close, and using all the weight you could muster to flip positions with him. You could see in his face he was almost expecting this from you, yet he let it happen, and didn’t fight it.

He let out a grunt as his back hit the ground, knowing his vest took most of the impact. You were now successfully above him, in between his spread legs, his arms splayed out on the sides. The arm that had been used as leverage around his neck was now holding you up, the other was poised threateningly at his collarbone, as if you were going to choke him at any second.

But now, over him, though you felt triumph, you were at a loss for words again, still so muddled about the situation. Leon let the arrogant smile take over his features.

“We’d make a great pair, don’t you think?”

A million emotions surged through your veins, making it even harder to focus, to find the right thing to say or do. The way he was looking up at you, those eyes, that face, you wanted to collapse and give it to what he was saying, but you would be damned if you gave in to any sort of manipulation from him. The job was already fucked. There was no money. It was a setup just to get you into his lair… for a lack of better word. He seemed to know the ins and outs of this building, yet, he was working underground for the same reasons, presumably, as you were.

Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. There’s no job. You wouldn’t leave Carlos behind, but couldn’t you pretend?

Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt. “What’s the negotiation?” You mumbled. You tried your best to keep the intimidating look in your eye, but you were afraid Leon never even saw it in the first place.

He breathed out a small laugh. It infuriated you, but sent a chill down your spine. “Can’t we worry about the price later?”

You sighed, and pushed yourself off of him using his body to boost you. He grunted. On your knees now, you said, “You did all of this to get me to work with you and you won’t even tell me what your prices are?”

He followed your lead, and pushed himself off the floor with ease. He was now sitting up, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve got a different asking price right now.” His voice became low, and you stiffened. It wasn’t every day on the field that you were met with a master tempter. Leon knew what he was doing now, and it all started to make sense to you. Regardless of if he really wanted you on his team or not, he kept an eye on you for weeks, months potentially, he brought you in here for one reason, and maybe one reason only.

“What makes you so sure I’ll accept?” You whispered, not able to find the courage anymore to speak properly.

“I think I just know. Am I wrong?” He stared deep into your eyes, yet another challenge. The challenges never seemed to end with him.

And, despite everything, you knew he wasn’t. You could feel it inside of you, he was right. You were about to accept his not-so-professional asking price, and you wanted to hate yourself for even giving in, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t feel anything except eagerness.

You breathed in shakily, frozen in your spot, wanting him to do something first, but he was just letting you fall apart slowly under his gaze, most likely enjoying watching your reaction to a simple stare. You ground your jaw together, resorting to only shaking your head. “Cocky bastard.”

He laughed out loud once. “You got that right.”

It seemed he had it now, not giving you time to start anything that you couldn’t move to do. With a solid palm, he pushed backwards onto your chest, sending you into the floor again. You caught yourself with your forearms and could only stare up at him as he towered over you on his knees, looking more intimidating than he did with a gun pointed at your face.

Leon brought one of his hands down to raid your holders strapped around your waist, pulling the knives free and flipping one open. Your breath caught for a second when he brought it to your neck, but then released even more unsteadily when he gripped your collar in the other hand and tore the blade through the spandex fabric of your bodysuit.

You gasped when the air hit your skin, shielded by the temperature regulating fabric, feeling more exposed than you ever had on a mission before. Of course, you figured, you decided a long time ago that the most comfortable way to don the bodysuit was with as little resistance as possible, so as soon as Leon tore the fabric apart from the middle, yourbare chest was on display for him. You felt heat run through your body, from embarrassment and the arousal that you couldn’t stop.

If it was even possible, his eyes grew darker with emotion previously undetected, and his grip on the bodysuit fragments that he was holding onto tightened endlessly, still tugging them off your body as far as they could go.

He let go, your sleeves still intact, nipples hardening, before continuing to tear it apart lower, until you felt the crotch seams rip right under you, and as shocked by his actions as you were, you were doing nothing to stop it. You tried to tell yourself you wanted to stop him, but you knew yourself better than that by now. He would have been on the ground before he could have even held the knife to your throat.

If he was a mind reader, it wouldn’t have shocked you to find that out anymore. “Just gonna lay there and let me do this to you? Maybe I overestimated your skill.”

It was one thing to be flayed out by someone you didn’t know, another to be held at gunpoint during a mission, but an entirely different field to be insulted by the person who performed all said acts.

“You don’t know anything about my skill. I guess saying you’ve been watching me was a lie.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, not even caring about your physical state anymore. Using your left arm, you sat further up, pushing Leon backwards with your right, and delivered him right onto his ass. “You think I can’t take charge of a situation?”

He looked up at you, not ready to physically retaliate. “I think you can, only when the person is letting you do so.”

You grabbed a hold of the gaiter still slung around his neck, and suddenly you were inches away from him. “I’m not letting you make me think that you’re allowing me to do anything. If watching me wasn’t a lie, you’d know I’m a lot more capable than what I’ve just let you do.”

He tilted his head sideways, clearly liking the new lack of distance between the two of you. “Then prove it.”

You decided to make a bold move. Repositioning your legs so you were now on top of him, you dropped yourself to sit right in his lap, feeling exactly what you were expecting. He groaned, finally not expecting something from you, and with a victorious smile, you fell lower, grinding into his erection with all your body weight. His hands instinctively went to claw at your thighs, the grip so tight it almost stopped you from moving, and his breathing became ragged.

“You give this treatment to every criminal that breaks into here?”

Leon laughed through the breaths. “I never get to them first to do this.” As you continued to gyrate on his lap, his eyes fell shut and his head rolled back, thumping on the wall behind him. His hands snaked up your legs, fingers toying the edges of the ripped fabric of his doing, and he pulled it further, trying to unsheath you as much as he could.

“Then allow me to make sure the rest of your criminals are forgettable.” You snaked your arms around his torso, letting him pull you loose from the sleeves of your bodysuit. Now free, you kept your grip firmly on his biceps, your own body weakening at the realization of how strong they felt.

As badly as you wanted to free them, as badly as you wanted to see him underneath his armor, you wanted to see it when he took you. You needed to look up at his gear and see his hardened face, the strong bodyguard who made you submit.

He continued with his deep groans the more you ground down on his hard cock, and you could feel it yourself through his pants. Leon’s efforts made it so you had barely anything protecting you, and all that stood in the way were his thick pants. You wanted to free him from his constraints, but you wanted to be a tease about it.

“I hope you had a plan for this, because I’m not obeying someone who wanted to kill me.” You had yourself steady by gripping his knees with your hands, leaning back, his eyes never peeled away from your breasts, out in the open.

He took a hand and placed it over your hip, large and warm, and it sent a wave of heat straight to your core, sure you were wet through your panties now.

“So now you want me to take charge, after going on about your own strengths, huh…” He squeezed his hand over your hip, and it made you squirm.

You basically hopped up and slammed yourself down on his lap, just wanting to make him suffer. “You’ll do what I say, and we’ll see who's listening to orders.” Your motion had made him whine as predicted, and you carefully studied his face as it was scrunched up, mostly in pleasure, probably some in pain.

“Then what?” He half whispered out at you. “Tell me what to do, then.” His hands made their way up to your chest, squeezing delicately, but enough to arch your back into his touch. His other was seated on your thigh, the pressure of his fingertips increasing by the second.

You leaned in close to him, inches away, enough to taste him if you so pleased, but you waited. “Why don’t you treat me like the criminal I am?”

A shudder visibly flowed through his body at your words, the back of his head hit the wall again. The hand on your thigh was now on your throat, not tightening just yet, but with enough sturdiness to keep you in your place. Your whole body was on the move now as Leon shifted his weight, and once again, you found yourself with your back on the floor, staring up at him towering over you. Though you had already been aware of it, your nakedness became prominent in this moment, realizing Leon’s neck and face were all you could see of his skin.

“Don’t think I’ll be gentle then,” He barked out at you, having shaken off the pleasure from you grinding down on him.

You smirked, watching him finally take his gloves off, having nothing to say, but only (oddly) excited about the new course of action. He stopped bothering with trying to get the rest of your clothes off, having opened up enough room for him to work in. You thought he was most definitely either going to push your panties aside for access or cut them off, and as turned on as you knew you would be if he did the latter, you still had to leave this place after this.

“Take my belt off.” He was rigid after flinging his gloves aside, giving you orders to obey. Keeping your back square on the ground, raising only your arms, your fingers worked swiftly to undo the belt buckle, pulling the leather through the metal and setting it free. You looked up into his eyes, which were boring holes into you, and when he made no other movement, you continued to his button and zipper.

When your hand made contact with the fabric you saw the jump his cock made at the friction, even barely there. He let out a soft, shaky breath at you working it open, never losing his composure. The rigid tent right in front of your face was long and thick, and you had to get your hands on it faster than yours could work themselves.

Finally undone, you pushed the opening aside and pulled down the elastic band of his underwear, his facial expression never changing, up until you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, now out in the open, and he groaned. He wrapped one of his own hands around your wrist, a plea not to move it, but you ignored it, and brought yourself to a sitting position so his head was lined up with the tip of your tongue.

“You want to suck it too, like a whore?” Leon’s other hand found solace in the back of your head, fingers tangling up your hair to get a steady grip. The pull made you wince, but you silenced the feeling by running your flat tongue along the underside of his dick, swiping along the head and letting the precum sit in your mouth.

A deep sigh was the result of your actions, and everything he did only egged you on. You felt him adding force to your head to move, but again, moved at your own pace, letting your tongue trace the indents and veins, letting your hand massage the base while your other was on the floor, holding you upright.

The anticipation alone of this moment could have filled your mouth with saliva, and the throbbing cock in front of you only added to help it. You opened your wet mouth and seated your lips around the tip, feeling that push on the back of your head again. Your tongue swirled endlessly, dragging up and down the slit, pushing more of the precum to the back of your throat, and finally, when you decided you had had enough, you slid his length as far back as you could go, a heavy breath coming from above you when you bottomed out.

His grip on your hair became shaky, and his breathing never righted again the more you took him into your mouth, bringing him closer to orgasm. The friction lightened up with your saliva around the base, your hand becoming covered in it, the sickening sucking noises sending sparks straight down to your pussy, which was begging to be touched, but you had to push Leon to the edge first.

You could feel his legs starting to buckle, but you pushed on, knowing he would stop you before he could cum in your mouth. As much as you wanted to bring him to that, you wanted to be pleasured by him first.

With one more deepthroat, stifling a gag and feeling his hand lift from your hair, he pulled himself out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting his head to your lips.

He took a deep breath in, looking down at you, almost spent but so much more to give.

With no warning, his hand was back on your throat, pushing you backwards into the floor once more. This time, the pressure was enough to constrict your breathing slightly, and you wrapped a hand around his thick forearm.

“You weren’t getting off the hook that easily,” Even with the breathiness he was speaking through, his face still showed all the authoritative attitude that he had in the first five minutes of your encounter. At this angle, the shadows on his face made him even scarier, but you felt nothing except turned on by him. Strands of gelled hair fell forward onto his forehead, a glisten of sweat decorated his skin.

“Maybe this was your plan the whole time,” He continued, the hand on your throat not allowing you to speak, but giving you enough air to be satisfied. Your breath hitched when you felt him pull your panties to the side, and deliver a rough sensation to your sensitive clit. “You knew the treatment you’d get by crossing me.”

One finger, then two, and surely your slick was in a pool on the floor by now. His appendages had no resistance as they slid in and out of you, hitting your soft walls, arching your hips to get more and more, but he had you at bay, and he knew it.

“You like this, huh?” Leon brought himself closer to your face, lips just a hair away from yours, but he wouldn’t kiss you. “You like being treated like a slut?” You took another restricted breath in when he returned to your clit, massaging it in circles, making your pussy ache even more. “Answer me.”

A choked out sob came out of you before, “Yes, I do…” and you felt your face heating up at the force of making you degrade yourself.

“Yeah, I can tell, you’re so wet I should’ve just fucked you the moment I caught you.” He was growling at you now, and it did nothing but send you into pure bliss at his treatment. “Maybe you’ll learn another lesson or two, one they could never teach you.”

Between the stimulation on your clit and the hand on your throat, a tear slipped out of your eye, but you were anything but dissatisfied. He raised himself, removed his hand (much to your displeasure), and readjusted himself, cock lined up square with your heat.

“Open your mouth.” You did as you were told, and he spit directly into your open mouth, and at the distraction of that, he slid into you.

Your jaw hung slack as he made his way in, you could feel the way his cock was stretching your walls wide, your pussy was so wet it made it easier than you were expecting it to be. Your eyes rolled back, not being able to help the way your eyelids fluttered closed, eyebrows furrowing, fingernails surely cutting Leon’s skin through his sleeves where you gripped him hard.

The stretch was immaculate, it burned and it felt like you were on fire, but none of it made you want to tell him to stop. Skin to skin contact was made on your clit when he was all the way in, you felt so full you could barely breathe, and your clit was sending rocket fire signals to your brain, it made you writhe with the sensations.

You gasped, the drag out feeling just as good as the shove in, and you cried out through the constriction around your throat, “Leon… fuck,”

Leon grunted at your appraisal, you felt the fingers over your neck twitch, knowing he was holding himself back from using all the strength he had in his one hand. You tried your hardest to pry your eyes open, you needed to see him.

“You’re such a slut, letting yourself get fucked to get out of trouble,” He spit out at you in between hard thrusts and heavy breathing. You practically felt the tip of his dick hit your stomach every time he thrust in, and from the sounds alone, you knew it had you soaked. You already knew he was a big man, but watching him in his bulletproof gear had you even weaker than you were before, this big heavy guard taking advantage of you, using you, and you loved it.

Your legs wrapped around his torso, hoisting your hips up to feel more, get him deeper, if it was even possible.

You could barely even breathe, every move that Leon made inside of you made your head spin, every noise he made turned you to jelly, every thrust had you whining so hard you were sure you were going to lose your voice.

The pressure on your throat lifted, and the sharp intake of cold air down your windpipes made you dizzy. Opening your eyes, Leon was now back to his position on his knees, still fully sheathed inside of you, and with a slick motion, and the wettest sounds you had ever heard from yourself, he slid out, leaving you empty.

You didn’t even have time to process the movement before Leon had his hand on your arms and was turning you over, bare chest to the cold floor, and you unintentionally shuddered. Using your arms to the best of your ability to hold yourself up, you felt them shake violently, and knew they would give out any time soon.

Looking up, you saw Leon reach forward and pull his discarded jacket down from the back of the chair, sliding it under your head, and pressing you back down by the nape of your neck. You couldn’t help but moan.

Strong hands settled on your hips, and you had to bite the material under you to muffle the scream as Leon pushed himself back into you, every nerve on fire as he hit the deepest spots you didn’t know existed. This time, he was relentless, like he promised.

You could barely hear him through your own screaming and whining.

“Take it like a whore, I know you can…” A slap to your ass, more tears from your eyes. “Fuck, so good, you’ll learn now…” Hands in your hair, pulling your head up. “I’m gonna fill you up, like a fucking slut,”

Barely processing anymore, your head a mess and eyes full of tears, you only registered the small change when you felt his arm around your waist, fingers teasing circles into your clit while still pounding into your pussy, still getting wetter by the second. The new feeling had your legs spreading wider for him, further weakening you, your thighs shaking with a strong timber you know no man had ever given you before.

“L-Leon…” It didn’t even sound like words anymore at this point, but Leon got the idea. He pressed harder into the soft nub, making you bite back into his jacket and moan loudly.

“Come on, I know you can cum for me,” Two more thrusts had him in, and you felt the shaft of his cock pulsing erratically inside of you as he released his seed in you, not waiting for you to say he could or not, but knowing he was going to anyway.

The feeling of being filled to the brink was what send you over the edge, his fingers still making work and his dick milking itself dry inside of your tight walls had you clenching around it, ragged breaths taking your body hostage as white flashed before your eyelids, and Leon knew he had made you finish, especially in the way your body crumpled underneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat dry, you slowly came back to reality, and your vision cleared. You felt hands on your waist, slowly rolling you over to lay on your back.

Leon was positioned over you, edge in his eyes long gone, face shiny and slick from sweating, all his hair nearly limp over his face. He looked like a completely different person.

“Are you alright?” Still not knowing if you can speak, you nodded, letting your mouth re-salivate. He pinched your chin delicately between his forefinger and thumb, moving your head to the side to expose your neck. “If I bruised you, I didn’t mean to.”

You shook your head. “It will give me something to cover my disappearance with.” You had no idea how long it had been, but with no contact to Carlos back at base, you wouldn’t be surprised if your entire team flanked the building at this very second to rescue you. Now how to get out with an entirely ripped bodysuit…

“Consider my offer.” Leon mumbled, clear enough to hear, but low enough to hear his exertion. “I was serious.”

You blinked slowly at him, not seeing his expression change at his offer. “If I accept, I’m not a criminal you’ll have to put in place anymore.”

At this, he smiled, and dipped his head down to kiss you again, possibly one of the only times he had that night.

“Honey,” He pulled away. “You’ll always be a criminal.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfiction #fanfiction #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy smut

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frenziedfireworks · 9 months

Note

hello!! you’ve easily become one of my favorite writers<3 i have a request and it’s fred x reader :)

basically, fred wants to confess to the reader who is also his best friend, but has been too nervous actually say anything. the yule ball was just announced recently and he thought this could’ve been the perfect opportunity. he had a whole plan going on how he was going to ask them, but reader ends up getting asked to the yule ball by somebody else in front of fred. maybe he could quickly shut it down with a “she’s going with me” which results in a lot of confusion and then the confession (when they are alone)

if this is too specific i’m sorry❤️😭

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary : Fred ignores the existence of the ball until it's too late and his dear Y/N gets asked.

A/N : Thank you so much!! I hope this is what you wanted. It was such a lovely idea and I was actually working on another story with the Yule Ball. Great timing!!

masterlist

Fred was your best friend. That was all. Or at least that is what you told yourself every night as you were plagued with romantic thoughts. It was torture really, and the upcoming ball did not help one bit.

“Y/N come join us.” Fred grinned and patted next to him. You rolled your eyes at his wild look and sat against the bench. You poured yourself water as Fred piled food onto your plate.

“You wouldn’t believe the night George and I had. Ridiculous really. Filch chased us halfway across the castle before giving up. Don’t know where the old coot gets the energy.” Fred nudged at George and they both nodded.

“Crazy. We plan to blow up his room as a little thanks in return.” George smirked and got back to his food. You only rolled your eyes at the comment.

A loud gasp was heard at the Gryffindor and you turned to the scene. One of your fellow classmates was getting asked to the ball. It was sweet and you couldn’t help but think about if Fred would ask you. It was a longshot with how popular he was but.. It couldn’t hurt to fantasize.

“That’s cute.” You smile and Fred just groans.

“I swear there’s a couple getting together every five minutes.” You only snorted at Fred’s antics and got up.

“Well I think it’s nice. I’m off to class.” You said as you walked away. Part of you wanted to hint to Fred that you wished he would ask you but that was unheard of. You were best friends! You didn’t want to hold him back from finding a date.. Even if it hurt your heart to think about.

–

Later that day you sat outside as George and Fred played with fireworks. You had a lot of classwork to catch up on and the cool weather calmed your frantic mind.

“Y/N! Look at this!” Fred shouted as a firework zipped past your face. He moved it around in his hand before throwing it to George with a wink.

“Wow. So impressive Fred.” You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. It was always nice to hangout with the twins, even if you weren’t doing the same thing. Your fingers skimmed the reading material as a Dumstrang boy passed. You could feel his gaze and looked up. He gave you a small wave and wink before walking away.

“What was that all about?” Fred questioned.

“Not a clue. I don’t know who that is.”

“Not a clue you say. Well obviously he knew you.” George wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. I’ve never seen that man in my life.”

Your mind raced with thoughts. Who was that guy? You had to assume he was messing with you or someone you had run across before. You could’ve sworn you had never talked to any of the Durmstrang boys though. A firework shot past your face and you jumped a bit.

“Fred!”

“Sorry darling.”

–

It had been two days since the boy had flirted with you. Since then he had decided to up the ante, sending you sweets and notes. It had shocked you that some random boy would go to those lengths for you. It was kind, really, but it would never be Fred. Speaking of which, he was currently clinging to your side for dear life.

“I don’t get why that guy keeps coming up to you. Are you lying about knowing him?” Fred narrowed his eyes as Durmstrang boys passed.

“Why would I lie?” You smacked the ginger lightly and rolled your eyes. “Come on. I want to go eat.” You tugged him along towards George.

“Hey you two.” George started. Fred stayed silent as he sulked and you gave him a wave.

“Y/N!” You almost jumped at the sudden voice and looked up to see your admirer.

“Oh.. Hello!” You mustered up and could feel Fred’s sharp glare from a mile away.

“Yes hello. I would like to ask.. Would you accompany me to the ball?” He smiled and your heart sank. You didn’t have a date but some deep part of you really wanted to go with Fred. Not that he had bothered to ask you.

“Oh.. That’s very kind-”

“That’s very kind but they’re coming with me. Sorry mate.” Fred piped up and your eyes went wide. You.. were going with him?

“Oh right.” The boy bowed and began to walk off.

“Why would you say that Fred! Nobody has asked me to the ball. That could’ve been my chance.” You growled and he groaned.

“He’s not the type of guy you want to go out with Y/N. Trust me.” Your body filled with rage at this comment and you stood up.

“How would you know? You don’t know what’s good for me or not!” You stomped your way out of the great hall, tears threatening to spill.

–

It had been a day since Fred and you had the argument. You had been very distraught and confused but didn’t want to go running back to him. After all, he was the one in the wrong.

“Y/N!” You hear George from behind you and you turn.

“What George?” You exasperate. You were not in the mood for his teasing antics with everything going on.

“Fred wants to talk to you. He’s in the old classroom.” George told you and left no room for conversation, running away.

“Great.” You mumbled to yourself as you turned. You had an abandoned classroom to get to.

Your hand pulled at the door and you were met with Fred pulling you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry dear. I really am.” He whispered against your ear. As you pulled away from the sudden embrace you noticed his red cheeks. You couldn’t help but think he was adorable when he was embarrassed which happened very rarely.

“Why Fred?” Your hand rubbed at his as you looked up.

“I.. I didn’t want you going with him. I want you to go with me. I know it was selfish and-”

“I want to go with you.” You interrupted and Fred’s mouth spread into a grin.

“You want to go with me?”

“Yes. That is what I just said.” You retorted and Fred launched himself into your arms.

“Oh Y/N.. I’m honored.” The boy gave you a smirk as his hand rubbed at your jaw. You could feel yourself grow nervous underneath his strong gaze.

“Fred..”

“Yes love?” The ginger’s hand rubbed at your lips, his face leaning in close to yours. You didn’t need to say anymore, closing the gap between you two. The kiss was desperate and messy, your mouths learning which angles and sides to use. That all quickly changed as Fred’s hand roamed down your torso and gripped at your hip.

“I don’t think best friends do this darling..” He teased and you could only snort.

“Good thing you’re all mine then.”

“Am I?” He pressed and you smacked his chest. His laughter was contagious and both of you sat enjoying the moment.

“I always have been.” He whispered and your heart melted.

“And I’ve always been yours.” Fred placed a delicate kiss against your forehead and hummed.

“I know. Who wouldn’t want to be mine?”

“Fred.”

“Only joking love.”

#harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter imagines #weasley twins #fred weasley x you #harry potter imagine #fred weasley x reader fluff #weasley twins imagines #weasley twins imagine

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storiesfromafan · 1 year

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Confessions of the Heart

A/N: it's taken me a few days, but here is part 2 to Antisocial Bookworm. I am so grateful for all the note's it and my other Mattheo story has gotten =^^= I hope this is on the level of the 1st part haha.

I will also be fixing up this story and my other one, once I can get to my boyfriends laptop.

Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Summary: set after the Slytherin party. Mattheo finally confesses to you how he feels..

Confessions of the Heart

Time could be a funny thing, or it could be cruel. In the passing weeks since the Slytherin house party it was unkind to Mattheo. Those fleeting moments with you gave him a taste of something that he was now craving. He wanted more time with you, more moments that would suffice the part of him that craved your look, your presence. In the time since the party he hadn't gotten a chance to be close to you. Sure there had been classes and meal times, but never as close as he'd like.

Lounging by a tree in the courtyard, with a book in hand, Mattheo had taken some time in the afternoon for himself. He quite liked being on his own for a while. It gave him time to sort through his thoughts, or pass the time with a book. Books; a new habit he had taken too after the Slytherin party. Books reminded him of you. And he wanted to feel closer to you. So here he was, in a place you would frequent with a book. Part of him hoping, no wanting, you to cross paths.

You on the other hand had taken to doing your best to be invisible after the party. Though for the first week to two weeks that had been hard to do. The suck and blow game, and your kiss, with Mattheo was all the students were gossiping about. And with one piece of gossip, there were rumours that followed. Some were mild, while others were wild and greatly untrue. But it didn't take long for the rumours to be all gone, no doubt from Pansy and Mattheo.

If Pansy had heard anyone gossiping about you, she would shoot them down with her sharp words and fierce gaze. Maybe even bringing to light some rumors of the offenders own. Mattheo, as you knew, had gone up to anyone that spoke ill of you. He would have been calm and advised them to forget the rumors, but if they protested or he found out they had not stopped, he would end it with his fists. Which led to more detentions, as well as bruises and cuts to his face and knuckles. Including the prominent cut across the bridge of his nose he was currently sporting. But he would gladly wear any bruises and cuts, like badges, if it was to defend your honour.

You had obviously been avoiding Pansy, Mattheo and those from the party. Only dealing with them if necessary. In the classes you had with Pansy, the girl had taken to sitting with you if possible. And chatting to you about the class work, her friends, gossip, etc. You were polite and let her do as she wished. You didn't mind her company. And she had taken the time to seek you out and include you. Maybe Pansy was growing on you. Mattheo was an entirely other thing. Yes there were classes you shared with the curly brunet, but you kept to one side of the room, and he the other. There were times your gazes would meet, and hold for a few moments, before you'd look away. He had been nice to you, but did that mean he wanted to be friends? Surely it was a mistake, you told yourself.

Like you would have any afternoon, you were headed to the courtyard with a good book. But upon walking out of the castle doors, behind some other students, you spotted a familiar figure in your spot. Taking advantage that Mattheo hadn't seen you, you retreated back into the castle. What was he doing in your spot? Surprisingly alone, and with a book in hand? Has the world gone mad? With your favourite spot being commandeered, you headed for the library. Sure there were students coming and going there, but it was a cosy place to read. After all, the place was full of books.

Time had passed and dinner in the Great Hall was getting closer. Most students had packed up and left the library. The only few remaining were the serious studiers, and yourself. Marking the page of your book you thought it best to start getting ready for dinner. With your bag packed you left your little corner in the library and walked into a large foyer that had a beautiful mermaid fountain, which most students conjugated around at various times of the day. Upon passing the fountain you were greeted by Pansy and another Slytherin girl you hadn't really talked to. Pansy parted with her friend before focusing on you.

"Y/N/N! Feels like I haven't seen you all day" she said smiling fondly at you.

You gave her a small smile. "You saw me this morning in Potion's class".

You both fell into step with each other, heading for your common room. Pansy talked mostly during your walk, you gave some input at times. It felt more comfortable when you talked to the dark haired female at your side. You didn't feel as uncomfortable, or unsure with every interaction you both have.

"So I am going into Hogsmeade on Saturday to do a bit of supply shopping. Do you want to join me?" Pansy asked, smiling at you, hopeful you'd say yes.

You were unsure if it was wise. But you wouldn't mind a trip to Hogsmeade, you yourself were in need of a few things. Like a new book or two. "Sure Pansy, I wouldn't mind going to Hogsmeade with you".

Pansy had been surprised you had willingly agreed to join her, but nonetheless excited. Upon reaching your destination, you both agreed on the finer details for Saturday's trip into Hogsmeade before parting ways. You went to your dorm, dropping your bag by your bed before falling backwards onto the soft mattress with a deep sigh. Usually, at a time like this, you would have either school work or books on your mind. But of course you had one particular Slytherin male on your mind.

At the same time as you, Mattheo had made it back to his own dorm. Sitting at his desk he lightly tossed the book he had been reading on the surface before him. He had spent his afternoon in the courtyard with the hope of crossing paths with you, but it never happened. He felt deflated, for he had gotten his hopes up. Maybe you weren't interested in him like he was you. But if you weren't, why would he find you looking at him across a room?

Pulling at the curls upon his head, Mattheo let out a frustrated groan. Any other girl would have been putty in his hands by now. But you weren't like the other girls. And he liked that. Yet part of him wishes it wasn't this hard. He wished you had shown up today in the courtyard, taking a spot under the same tree as him, preferably close to him. At first there would have been silence, but eventually he would have started a conversation with you. The topic might have been the current book you would have been reading. From there the conversation would have, hopefully, flowed nicely. And before heading back into the castle he would have worked up the courage to ask you to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, not a date but hopefully something like one.

~~~

Saturday came around in no time. That morning you had gotten up and got ready for the day. Your roommates were also going to Hogsmeade, so the room was buzzing with plans. Dressing in jeans, a light turtleneck jumper and ankle boots, with your hair put up in a messy bun and bangs brushed down. One of your roommates commented on your outfit, suggesting some lip gloss. She received a slap to her arm from another girl in the room, which confused you. But part of you thought it might have been a comment on your kiss with Mattheo. The girls in your room at first after the party, had given you looks while whispering. But it stopped soon after, making you think Pansy had gotten to them. Since then they have been nice.

Heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, you walked alone enjoying the peace. Everyone from your year that you passed were discussing Hogsmeade and their plans. Upon reaching the Great Hall, Pansy was talking with Draco and Blaise by the giant doors. Seeing you, she called you over to the three. Reluctantly you walked over to them.

"Morning Y/N/N!" Pansy greeted me with a bright smile.

"Morning" you replied to her and the boys with her.

"Y/L/N" Draco nodded his head to you. "We'll talk to you later Pansy". With that Draco and Blaise took their leave, and headed to the Slytherin table.

Pansy invited you to join her and a few of her friends for breakfast, which you decided to accept. Usually at breakfast you'd sit alone and read, be it school work or one of your books. Pansy and her friends talked every moment you all sat at the Slytherin table. Just down from them sat Draco and Blaise, Mattheo nowhere in sight.

Mattheo had slept in, waking to find his room empty. Upon seeing the time he got up quickly and rushed to get ready, he didn't want to miss breakfast. Once dressed he grabbed his jacket and headed for The Great Hall. Just about every female student he passed gave him the goo-goo eyes and flirty smile. No doubt half, or all, had been hoping he'd ask them to Hogsmeade. If he had to ask any girl in the school, there was only one choice. You; his antisocial bookworm.

Reaching the Great Hall, Mattheo smiled seeing there was still a decent amount of time to have breakfast. With a spring in his step, the thought of what he would eat this morning running through his mind, he failed to notice you sitting with Pansy and her friends. He took a seat next to Draco, clapping the blonde on the back. Blaise poured Mattheo some juice, while he started to put food on the plate before him.

“Cutting it close” commented Draco stirring his tea.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Mattheo said with a sigh. “Thought I’d have been woken up”.

Blaise smirked. “You looked very comfy, with a silly grin on your face. Wonder what you had been dreaming about”.

Mattheo choked on the juice he had just sipped, then coughed. “Bullshit”.

Draco laughed. “He’s telling the truth. So who were you dreaming about, huh? Maybe the recluse, antisocial bookworm”. Draco looked down the table from where they sat, gesturing to the person he had just mentioned.

Mattheo’s gaze followed where Draco’s was, and there you sat. So close, but still to far away. He watched how Pansy and her friends were talking, all the while you looked bored, probably wishing you had a book right then. A small, goofy smile formed on his lips, that didn’t go unnoticed by Draco and Blaise. The pair had been watching their friend closely since you were mentioned. They weren’t stupid. They could see a change in Mattheo since the party. And they figured the time on his own was an attempt to get close to you. Though he never got a chance alone with you.

Feeling like you were being watched you looked around, only to find those familiar deep brown eyes on you. When Mattheo finally made it to the table escaped you, and you had been somewhat aware of your surroundings. A small smile formed on his lips as you stared at him, knowing he had your attention. When had the dynamic shift between you? You had always been solitary, choosing to be separate from everyone else. Books replacing friendships & love interests, for it was easier than reality. But here you were, sitting with Pansy and her friends, have the attention of the Slytherin heart throb. The world must have fallen off its axes, & gone crazy.

"Ready to go?" Pansy's sudden question ripping your focus from Mattheo.

Looking at the girl next to you, you blinked a few times processing what was going on. "Ah…yeah" you said breathlessly.

Pansy and you got up from your seats, Pansy saying a farewell to her friends, before the both of you headed back to your dorms to get your coats for the walk to Hogsmeade. All the whole time you moved from your seat till you left the Great Hall, you could feel his eyes on you.

Mattheo was cursing Pansy for taking you away from him. That eye connection was the most interaction with you he'd had in a day. He wanted it to last forever, or till he could get to you and talk to you. But it was lost now. And so he took to sulking.

"Cheer up" Draco said, clapping Mattheo on the back. "You'll have another chance at talking with Y/L/N. Her and Pansy will be in Hogsmeade. I've already invited Pansy to The Three Broomsticks, so she'll be with her".

Hearing those words cheered Mattheo up. He'd have another chance, and get to have a butterbeer with you. Not to mention the walk back to Hogwarts. Getting up with Draco and Blaise, all three boys put on their coats and decided to start making their way to Hogsmeade.

~~~

The walk to Hogsmeade with Pansy had been pleasant. Of course the dark haired girl had talked for most of the walk, but you learnt more about Pansy and who she is as a person. And you even engaged more in conversation with her, which surprised Pansy but also made her happy. The first place you were dragged was a small clothing store. Pansy was looking for new gloves and socks. After that you were dragged to a store to get some potion supplies, which suited you well as you needed a few items yourself. Pansy had made some jokes from different items, which you found entertaining and laughed at. The banter between you two was flowing nicely, not forced.

You briefly stopped for something to eat before continuing on shopping. You even got to pop into the small bookshop owned by a lovely lady named Doris. She was a sweet lady, who got muggle books in and would give you first pick. There was a good selection of stock that came in, but you decided to buy Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. You were feeling the need for something different, something with sadness, passion and romance. Though the two books were different, both would please your needs. Once finished their Pansy suggested having a butterbeer, and you agreed.

Reaching The Three Broomsticks you both entered with a smile, removing your coats Pansy headed in further before you. Then you heard Pansy’s name being called by a familiar voice. Walking to Pansy’s side you were greeted with the sight of Draco and Blaise. You felt a sigh of relief leave your lips that it was just the two Slytherin’s. But a small part felt disappointed not seeing the deep brown eyes of Mattheo. It was best he wasn't there. He was probably on a date with some girl, more fitted to be his main girl then you.

Both you and Pansy took a seat at the table that was closest to the fireplace. Pansy filled both boys in on your day. And in turn they had spoken a bit about their own. Your focus went from those at the table with you to the other students in the establishment. It was a buzz with chatter and laughter. There were a few couples that were quite cosy together, and one couple that looked to be on a first date. The group at the back were laughing and cheering over something you couldn't hear, but it was infectious nonetheless. Emerging from the group was a mop of brunet curls before seeing a warm smile on his face as he dusted off his sleeves. Another male clapped him on the back.

Mattheo had been pulled in by a group of students, a heated discussion on the current Quidditch season so far this year. He had tried to get away from there for the last ten minutes, and finally making his break, upon looking up he was greeted by the sight of you sitting at the table he’d left Draco and Blaise at. Oh how you looked cute right now. Pulling himself together, Mattheo headed over to the bar and ordered three butterbeers before heading to his friends with the drinks in hand.

"About time you got back" commented Draco as Mattheo put the butterbeers on the table, and slid one to Pansy, who thanked him.

"Yeah, once they get started it's hard to escape" retorted Mattheo, sliding over a butterbeer while looking you in the eyes.

"Thank you" you said softly, taking the offered drink, to which Mattheo gave you a wink.

Oh how that wink affected you. Your heart fluttered and your stomach turned. You had seen him wink before; to friends or other girls. But to be on the receiving end of it, it was going to do you in. Then those dark thoughts crossed your mind, telling you that you weren't worthy of him. That he deserves someone better, a female lead that was beautiful and smart. Looking at the butterbeer in your hands, you only half listened to the conversation going on at the table. Focusing more on your negative thoughts.

Mattheo couldn't help but look at you, watch you after giving you the butterbeer. He was sitting across from you, you were finally close to him again. He wondered what was going on in your mind. What were you thinking about, maybe him. He hoped it was him. A small silly smile formed on his lips at the thought of you thinking of him. Slowly you looked up, both your gazes meeting. He'd almost forgotten how clear your Y/E/C eyes were, all the while you could drown in his deep brown eyes. This could be like a moment from your books. The way he looked at you, paired with the cosy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks. How you both didn't notice anyone else around you when you looked at each other. Something flashed in his eyes, you noticed. But you were unsure what it was. Mattheo on the other hand; the longer he stared into your eyes the more he knew that his crush was growing. He knew he liked you, and had to tell you in hopes you feel the same.

“Have you had a good trip to Hogsmeade?” Mattheo asked, finally saying something to you.

You nodded your head, “yes I have...Pansy and I went shopping”.

He smiled a lopsided grin. “That’s good. Did you buy anything?”

Again you nodded. “Yes I got some ingredients for potions, very boring. And a few books” you replied with a smile, thinking of your new friends that lay in a bag by your feet.

“Oh? What books?” Mattheo asked, genuinely interested, which surprised you.

With a small look of shock on your face, you brought the bag up and took out the books. “I got Wuthering Heights, and Jane Eyre. Both Muggle books, but I find them fascinating...”

Mattheo took both books, looked them over & had a quick read of the blurb on the back. If he hadn’t known you were one for romance or love, these books gave a small indication you were. Though there was love, there was distance and longing, as well as revenge and anger, mixed with some tragedy.

“They’re silly, I know...” you said softly, as you put the books away. “But I find them interesting”.

“It’s not silly. You are allowed to like what you do” Mattheo said, smiling warmly at you when you looked his way. “I have begun to get into books myself, even a few Muggle ones” he stated, whispering about the Muggle books. Knowing Draco and Blaise would not let him live it down if they heard him.

That surprised you. You hadn’t taken him for a fan of Muggle literature. Or really one for reading. Mattheo was the bad boy. A list of girls that he had snogged or done more, as long as one of Snape’s lectures. Of course you’d seen him read but that was school books or magical world literature. The few times you’ve seen Mattheo in the library was occasionally to study, or rather getting answers to class homework, but mostly when he was finding a quiet corner to snog a girl.

Before your conversation could continue, Pansy said it was time to go. But before going back to Hogwarts, she suggested a trip to the Shrieking Shack. The boys said they’d come with, saying you girls would need protection. Which Pansy scoffed at. The walk to the abandoned house didn’t take long; Pansy, Draco and Blaise up front, while you and Mattheo walked behind them in silence.

By the time you made it to the Shrieking Shack the sun was starting to set. The boys stopped a fair distance from the building, while you and Pansy moved closer. Seeing the boys had stopped you both turned around and looked back at them.

“Seriously? I thought you were here to protect us?” Pansy asked in a baby voice. That made you giggle.

“We-we are” said Draco, clearing his voice. “Happy to wait here and if anything happens we’ll come to your aid”.

Mattheo laughed at his friend. Clapping both boys on the backs, he stepped forward. “I’ll join you ladies, happy to protect you” he winked at you.

“Our hero” Pansy said with a smug smile before looking back at Draco.

The three of you walked closer to the building, stopped at the fence of the property. Pansy and Mattheo talked about the building, the history and the rumours of the shack. You looked around, observing the abandoned building. You tried to picture what it might have looked like, if a family had lived there or was it a single person. Then you started to think of how it would be described in a book. One could describe it as a deserted, forsaken or unoccupied run down building that was boarded up in an attempt to conceal its insides from the world or to keep the outside world out. The wind rustled through the building causing the most haunting sound to hit one's ears.

While you seemed distracted Pansy moved closer to Mattheo and whispered, “if you are planning to make any kind of move you better do it soon”.

Mattheo’s eyes widened, nearly popping out of his head. “W-what!?”

Pansy slapped his arm, “keep your voice down”. She glanced at you and saw you were still oblivious. “I know you like her. And she is nice, sweet and shy...so don’t break her heart, or else I’ll break your nose”.

“I-I” he spluttered. Not sure what to say, but he decided he couldn’t hide it from the girl before him. “Okay...I like Y/N. Do you think she likes me?” He sounded like a scared child.

Pansy offered a small smile. “I believe she does, but she’s different. She’s not like the usual girls you ‘date’ Theo” Pansy said with air quotes.

“Oh I know she’s different” he said looking at you, a loving smile upon his face.

Pansy giggled, “then go for it!”

Mattheo looked back to Pansy and nodded his head. He had to confess to you that he likes you. Talking to Pansy seemed to give him a confidence boost. He felt he could just about take on the world. He just hoped you wouldn’t reject him. Pushing down the fear of rejection, Mattheo collected his thoughts and was ready to do this. Pansy had suggested along the walk back to the castle that he pulled you aside and you both talked. And he agreed. They had a plan.

“Lets head back before it gets too late” Mattheo’s words brought you back to reality. Pansy agreed with him.

Meeting back up with Draco and Blaise, the lot of you started the trek back to the castle. Once again you and Mattheo brought up the rear. It was quiet between you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The light in the sky was almost gone as you came to the turn off on the main path that would take you into the Dark Forest. Pansy gave Mattheo a look before suggesting you stay with Mattheo, and watched the last of the sunset and the first stars.

Draco and Blaise started to protest but Pansy put an end to it, before the three took off and left you two on your own. Now on your own, you stood there unsure what to do. Alone with Mattheo. You had been doing your best to avoid him, and within a day you were back to a close proximity with him. And it was nice. You took a few steps along the path, closer to school, Mattheo not far behind you.

“Looks like a clear night sky” Mattheo commented looking up at the slowly darkening sky, and a few stars littering the heavens.

You stopped and looked back at Mattheo, before looking up to where he was looking. “Yes, I think so...”

Mattheo watched you talk, taking you in as you looked to the sky above. He noted how the almost faded light outlined your face, and highlighted your H/C locks. He gulped. You were stunning right now, you looked like an unearthly creature. When you turned, and your eyes met for the third time today. He was so close, closer then he had been. When did he get close? With one step Mattheo’s body would be just touching you. You felt your breath hitch at the thought, and your stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of him touching you.

“You look lovely today...” Mattheo said, wishing to kick himself. “Not that you don’t any other day!” His nerves were starting to rise.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Ah...t-thank you?” you asked breathlessly, unsure what else to say.

Silence settled in after that, leaving you both unsure and uncomfortable. Deciding enough was enough, you told Mattheo you were going to head back to the castle and started to walk on. Seeing his chance starting to slip, Mattheo quickly moved and grabbed your wrist with his hand.

“Wait!” he exclaimed in a panic. “Y/N, please wait. I-I need to talk to you”.

You turned to look at Mattheo, confusion on your face. “W-what is it Mattheo...?”

Oh his name leaving your lips, hearing your voice speak his name. It was music to his ears. “I need to confess”.

“Confess?” you questioned in confusion.

Releasing your wrist Mattheo stood up straight, taking a deep breath. Now or never. “Y/N...I want you to know that you are different, different good! Not different bad. I like that you keep to yourself, that you read books whenever you can. I like that you don’t listen to all the bullshit students talk, and choose to live in your own world”.

You looked at Mattheo in a slight panic, you had an idea where this was going and you were undeserving of him and his affections. “Mattheo, stop please! This isn’t right, I’m not right...for you”.

With those words you turned and started to head back to Hogwarts at a faster pace. Mattheo, stunned for a moment, was quick to go after you, calling your name. You continued to keep walking, ignoring his cries. Then you felt your arm being grabbed and Mattheo pulling you to a stop and looking at him, though you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth be a liar;

But never Doubt I love” Mattheo recited from memory.

‘Hamlet by William Shakespeare’ you told yourself.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep. The more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite”

‘Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare’.

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you” Mattheo said, bringing his hand up to cup your face.

‘Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin’ you thought as his hand touched your skin.

Realising that Mattheo’s hand was holding your cheek, along with great literature confession’s of the heart. Your mind was at a loss. What was happening? Has the world finally lost it? Or were you dreaming? The later more possible. But your mind could never come up with how good it felt to have his skin touching yours. Mattheo searched your eyes, trying to gauge what you were thinking or feeling.

“And finally, my own confession; I like you Y/N. I like everything about you, my antisocial bookworm. Or should I say my main girl”.

You felt your face warm up. You were right, he was confessing to you. He had recited words from books that you had read, which means at some point Mattheo had read them. Another surprise that he would have taken the time to do so. And then to give you his own, Mattheo Riddle, confession. Which was the best out of all of them.

“Are you sure?” You asked unsure.

He blinked before laughing. “Am I sure? Yes I am! I know I like you, I adore you. But do you like me?”

You gulped. “I-I...I do like you” you finally spat out.

The smile that crossed Mattheo's face was bright, it met his eyes and they twinkled with the starlight. He decided it was now or never. Mattheo stepped closer, leaning down closer to your face. This was it, you knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it. As his lips lightly touched yours, soft and warm he noted, you both felt a small spark. Drawing back he looked at you, seeing if you disliked the kiss or did not want him. But there was joy, happiness.

Not wasting time Mattheo went in for another kiss. This time pressing his lips firmer to your own. That spark was there again, but stronger. He felt your hands come up to rest on his chest, he feared you would push him away. But your hands gripped at his coat. Taking that as a sign to continue Mattheo brushed his tongue along your bottom lip, and you gingerly opened your mouth. Mattheo then deepened the kiss, taking your breath away and sending your mind into overload. Slowing down the kiss, Mattheo pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and looking into your eyes.

“I take this as you will go out with me? Or should we just skip to boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

You went red again in the face, something Mattheo was loving. He decided he would do anything to get that reaction from you, it was just too cute.

“What do you want...?” You asked him softly.

“Be my girlfriend Y/N/N” he answered with a cocky smile.

So you agreed. Making Mattheo the happiest he has ever been. And with that you headed back to the castle, first holding hands before Mattheo moved to wrap his arm around you, making you blush yet again. And though you were embarrassed, you were the happiest you could be. Maybe you weren’t a background character after all. You were the main girl, who got the main boy.

A/N: Constructive feedback welcome. Hopefully you have enjoyed this story. Also, like to thank my boyfriend for reading my story before I post them, and putting up with my fangirl ways lol.

#mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo x y/n

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Note

“Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga for Toji Fushiguro- Angst + Smut

(i had to request another for my stinky man 😭🩷 ily)

Bad Romance

I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: wild west au, violence, implied assault, mentions of sex work, weapons (gun, knife), explicit language, a bit of angst, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degrading language (whore, slut), pet names (sweetheart, baby), cream pie, unprotected sex, a whisper of a breeding kink

Summary: You’re the Vixen Viper, an outlaw on the run with an outstanding bounty. You find a temporary safe-haven at the Star Saloon, protecting the women who work there while they protect you from the authorities. One night, a bounty hunter by the name of Toji Fushiguro shows up, threatening to cause some trouble.

Author’s Note: Thanks for the y2k karaoke party request my beautiful friend @batafuraikisu! I have lots of inspiration behind this. I love the Red Dead Redemption video games and have been fascinated with the wild west since. There’s also an exclusive Patreon audio from AugustInTheWinter that rewired my brain chemistry where he plays an outlaw; he has an accent and everything, SO GOOD. Another special shoutout to my lovely moot @/neesieiumz who is currently writing this incredible aot wild west au anthology called Gold Rush – READ IT NOW if you haven’t already, it’s fantastic! Anyways, I hope you like this, thank you for reading! I had an absolute blast with this one!

Midnight at the Star Saloon is always lively with rambunctious activity. It’s the perfect time for stragglers moseying through town or the miscreant locals to stop by for a break, meaning booze, gambling, or sex. Usually all three in one night. You’ve been a regular here for almost three months now, befriending the women and men who work hard to keep the patrons satisfied. Whether it’s serving alcohol until they fall out of their seats, enabling poker addictions, or riding their cocks in one of the private rooms upstairs at a special rate, they do it all to make an honest living. Though on occasion, customers will cross the line.

And that’s where you come in.

It started two months ago, after you had frequented the saloon enough times to be considered a regular. It was around three in the morning when one of the barmaids approached you, asking you to follow her upstairs. She led you into the private room all the way down the hall, and inside was another worker, sitting at the foot of the bed, cheek swollen and a black eye all on the left side of her face. That’s all you needed to see to set you off. The perp had already left, but you knew who he was as soon as she described him. And, of course, like all assholes do, thinking they got away with it, he came back. When he did, it was you this time who took him upstairs to that same bedroom, dressed in one of the barmaid’s outfits. You, who flirted with him and stripped him naked on the bed, promising to give him exactly what he deserved. And finally, it was you who robbed him and held a sharp blade to his pathetic penis, threatening to slice it right off if he ever showed his ugly fucking face in this town again. You haven’t seen him since.

At that time, your friends at the Star Saloon already knew you were someone who could handle things. Maybe it was the way you dressed at first, often showing up in cowboy attire, ready to book it if the situation called for it. Or maybe it was because they recognized you from the wanted posters plastered in the next town over, your silly nickname the Vixen Viper in big bold print below an unflattering photo of you from the last time you landed in jail, right before you escaped. They never mentioned it; never reported you to the authorities. Instead, they welcomed you in with open arms. There’s a bounty on your head for the crimes you committed against sleazy men like that, but you hold no guilt for your actions. To you, and to all the women in the saloons you’ve frequented, it’s justice. They need someone like you to protect people like them. Because lord knows that no one else in this godforsaken world will.

You’ve lasted three months in this town without the authorities catching on to you yet. You look quite different from your poster when you’re done up in makeup and a frilly dress, dagger concealed in the garter wrapped around your thigh. And with the help of your friends, you’ve managed to hide in plain sight, posing as one of the barmaids while you patrol the late-night crowd for any possible threats. Violence against these women has significantly lessened since you’ve been around. The rumor amongst the patrons is that men who misbehave get their money taken and their dicks chopped off, which is pretty spot-on to the actual truth. So fortunately, for both the workers and the customers, there isn’t any trouble.

Tonight is a little different.

You lean against the bar doing your usual inspection, checking for people who are causing a ruckus or getting rough with any of the ladies. You’re dressed similarly to them, though you never get requested to entertain in one of the private rooms above, considering you don’t go out of your way to flirt with any of the men. You lack the illustrious charm the others do; you’re only here for when things get ugly. It surprises you when a mysterious stranger on the other side of the room points to you directly, wiggling his finger to beckon you over. He smirks, the prominent scar on his lips curving with it. You grab your drink and walk over to him, curious to see what this is about, sensing that it can’t be anything good.

When you reach his table, you give him your most cordial smile. “Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

He grins, waving to the seat across from him. “I was hoping you can join me for a little chat.” His tone is even, though there’s a hint of something sinister in there. Maybe it’s your imagination or better yet, your intuition. You’ll soon find out.

You drag the chair out, plopping into it, laying your hands flat on your lap, palm pressed to the knife hidden beneath your skirt. He scans you up and down before asking, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, you answer, giving him a fake one, of course. He nods, accepting it. “Toji Fushiguro. Pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out, which you take reluctantly, shaking it. His grip is firm, callouses rough against your own. “I saw you and knew I had to meet you.”

Your raise a brow at him. “Oh? What about me caught your eye?”

“Thought I recognized you from somewhere.” His gaze lingers on yours, expression unwavering.

Your heart stops momentarily, a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Not here, not now. You swallow thickly, feigning ignorance. “Really? From where?”

He slides you a rolled-up paper, nodding his head for you to open it. “Take a look.”

Trembling now, you obey, unraveling it slowly until you see the words WANTED: ALIVE and your face staring back at you. There’s no need to go any further. You fold it up immediately, heart racing, glancing at your surroundings hoping no one else is listening in on your conversation. As calmly as you can, you lean forward towards him, muttering, “So what, are you going to arrest me? Hog-tie me in front of all these people?”

He inches even closer, noses nearly touching now, his breath tickling you. “Now, I’m a gentleman. I like to know a woman first before I tie her up.”

You scoff. “So what, am I supposed to come quietly then?”

He glances at your mouth, then back to your eyes. “I’m willing to negotiate if you have something to offer.”

You clear your throat, intrigued by his response. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private,” you say, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up the stairs with you.

“Lead the way, Vixen.”

You lead him to the very end of the hallway, the furthest room away from the bar downstairs. There’s a fire escape just outside the window, your best chance to evade arrest. First, you’ll have to subdue him.

Inside, you lock the door shut, turning to face him. “Are you a police officer?”

He shakes his head. “Guess again,” he answers, opening his coat to display the gun and knife hanging on his belt.

“Bounty hunter,” you state, glaring at him.

“Yup. And you, my dear, have a very hefty bounty on your pretty little head.” He steps towards you, caging you between his arms, your back flat against the door. Although you remain untouched, his presence is suffocating.

“What do want?” you ask him, breathing in deeply through your nose.

“All the loot you robbed from those scumbags. Enough to exceed the bounty I’d get if I brought you back with me.”

You smirk. “Is that it?”

“And a deal,” he adds. “A partnership.”

You stare at him, confused. “What?”

He laughs, amused by your reaction. “I’ll admit, I’m a fan of your work. Drifting through town-to-town, robbing sleazy assholes. And you haven’t been caught until now. It’s impressive.”

You’re caught off guard by the praise, relaxing just the slightest bit. “So, what do you propose?”

He lets his arms down, placing his hands in his pockets while he explains himself. “There are several bounties for men exactly like the ones you hate. If you promise to help me get them, I won’t take you in tonight. I’ll even give you some of the money. If you’re good.”

“And why can’t you do this yourself?”

“It’s easier to get a guy when his guard’s down. If there’s a pretty little thing like you seducing him, catching him will be easy as pie.”

You stare at him, contemplating his proposition. It’s an easy decision for you to make. It’s either this, or jail. “Fine. You have a deal.”

He offers his hand to you. “Put it there, partner.” His tone is soft, almost sincere. You can’t help thinking that if this were any other scenario, you’d find him attractive. Hell, even in this one, you’re drawn to him. You take his hand, shaking it. He tugs you in closer, voice low and seductive. “I think we should celebrate this new friendship. What do you say?”

You smile at him, what feels like the first genuine one of the night. Maybe this isn’t as bad as you initially thought. When you close the distance, his mouth is on yours quickly, lips smacking, wet and sloppy. He slides out of his jacket, letting it thud loudly on the hardwood with his weapons weighing it down. The shirt he wears is tight on his body, clinging to him, emphasizing his muscular physique. You can’t remember the last time you were intimate with a man without the intention to backstab him. In fact, it’s been a while since you were intimate at all. With him guiding you, however, you match his movements naturally, sliding your hands up his torso, pawing at his chest as his hands squeeze your hips, pulling you towards the bed.

He moans, slipping his wide tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss and exerting his dominance. “Can’t wait to see what the Vixen Viper can really do,” he huffs, hoisting the hem of your dress, bunching it in his fist. His fingers trail the inside of your thighs, stopping at the garter, feeling the handle of the knife strapped to you. He clicks his tongue, mouth hovering your ear, hooking his finger to snap the elastic against your skin. “You really are dangerous.”

You let out a whimper, your pussy throbbing with arousal. He grabs the blade by the handle, whipping it out from its holster, tossing it to the other side of the room away from you. You chuckle, lifting your arms up so he can strip you properly. “Are you scared of me?”

He removes your corset swiftly, squeezing your bare breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples. “I don’t want to get stabbed in case you change your mind.”

You shove him onto the bed, where he lies flat on his back, watching you straddle his lap, naked. “If I do that, then I wouldn’t get to fuck you.”

He laughs loudly, biting his lip. “Oh? You’re the one who’s gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah, I reckon ,” you reply, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. He continues to watch you intently, groaning when you shimmy his pants off to release his cock. It flops against his abdomen, even bigger than you imagined, all veiny and girthy. You salivate at the sight of it, opening your mouth for a taste.

“Fuck,” he curses, head relaxing into mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as you sink down on him, swallowing him up until the tip hits the back of your throat. You bob up and down on his shaft, gripping the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. “You suck cock like a fucking whore. Did your friends out there teach you that?”

You grasp his balls in your hand, squeezing them tight, causing him to shudder. Shaking your head, you say, “I learned this from experience.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Come here. Put this pussy on my face. Bet I can teach you something you haven’t learned yet.”

You release him, crawling up his body until your wet cunt is pressed to his lips. His tongue laps at your arousal, swirling around your aching clit. You grip the top of the headboard, grinding on him. “Oh fuck!”

His hands surround your ass, squeezing at your soft cheeks, fingers digging into your flesh. He hums into your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He nods beneath you, encouraging you. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take it like a good slut.”

He takes you into his mouth, slurping at your clit until your gushing all over his face, your orgasm shiny on his lips and chin. His eyes are wild with excitement, peering up at you between your legs. Kissing the plush of your thighs, he says, “Well, go on then, Vixen. Fuck me.”

Soon, you’re sinking down onto his fat cock, pussy already soaking wet with slick and spit. He fills you up to the brim, taking a few seconds to adjust to size comfortable. When you’re ready, you start to bounce on his lap, his cock thrusting in and out of you smoothly. He hits your sweet spot over and over, stimulating you into another messy orgasm after just a few solid strokes. Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, drool leaking down your chin, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Look at you. So fucked out for me,” he growls, planting his feet on the bed, taking control. He grabs onto your hips firmly, pounding up into you, watching your entire body convulse with each delicious thrust. “You talk a big game, but you like being manhandled like this. You’re just a slutty little hole waiting to be ruined. Waiting for the right man to use you.” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it with deep strokes. “Seems like you finally met the perfect partner.”

“Fuck, Toji!” you cry out, unraveling once again.

He increases his pace, the bed creaking noisily below you. “That’s it, baby. Come with me. Gonna breed this perfect pussy. Gonna fill you up so fucking good.” He pulls you down towards him, wrapping you in his arms, kissing you fiercely as he pumps his load inside you.

You both lay still for a moment, catching your breaths, Toji peppering delicate smooches along your neck. You’re surprised at how gentle he’s being, considering his brutish behavior from earlier. When enough silence passes, you look at him, grinning. “What a way to celebrate, am I right? Partner?”

He laces his fingers with yours. “The beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

After you clean yourselves up as best as possible, you snuggle together under the covers, him spooning you from behind. “’Night, Toji Fushiguro.”

He nuzzles his nose to the nape of your neck, whispering, “What’s your real name?”

You smile, grazing your lips on his knuckles, actually giving it to him.

~~~

Toji Fushiguro, the most sought-after bounty hunter in all the west, wakes up the morning feeling fantastic.

He glances to his side, hoping to see his lovely new partner still peacefully asleep beside him. To his surprise, no one is there. He inspects the room, searching for clues on where she ran off to and notices nothing.

And that’s when it hits him. There’s nothing in the room.

All his clothes are gone, his weapons, the wallet full of cash buried in his pockets, even the very blanket they fell asleep under. He’s as naked as the day he was born, confused and beguiled until he finally realizes it. He’s been robbed. And it was the Vixen Viper who robbed him.

The only thing he finds is her wanted poster, folded up on the bedside table, a small note scribbled to the back of it:

Toji - Thanks for the fun night, but I don’t do partners. Maybe the next time you catch me, I’ll reconsider.

He laughs, unable to contain his smile as he reads her real name signed at the end of it.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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wen-kexing-apologist · 7 months

Text

IS BROTHER ANURAK THE ONE ARMED MAN?

OKAY! SO!

I feel like I am teetering on the edge of delulu for this fucking show, but…because I just wrote a post about the Left Hand Path and all the left hand/left side imagery, and because I’m…well, me, and hands in shows are My Jam. When I was watching the promo trailer for Episodes 8-14, I noticed something. I never once saw Brother Anurak’s left arm. So I went to the teaser trailer for the whole show, just to see if it was coincidental that the like 5 seconds total of screen time Brother Anurak had in the Part 2 trailer just happened not to show his left arm…but uh…

Brother Anurak holds his rosary with only his right hand…

And Brother Anurak’s left hand just hangs at his side, rather than resting on his lap like his right hand is doing…

And Brother Anurak is shoving Trin with only his right hand…

And Brother Anurak’s left hand is hidden from view by some books…

And this, naturally, started me thinking about the One Armed Man. We don’t know much about this man, only that lost his left arm in an accident and then engaged in some homosexual and substance use activity, he was arrested and executed. We know that Dan, after losing his lucid dreaming stone, had some sort of dream or vision about this one armed man.

We do not know what purpose he serves to the story yet, we do not know if he is truly evil or just presented that way by the villagers. I mean, if the One Armed Man truly is a wild ghost, the Venerable Monk gave a few theories himself: a) The wild ghosts in the village got angry when the school was built and floating bodies down the water in sacrifice was banned after World War II or b) the wild ghosts take those who ask them for help, and who they like.

And we do not, currently, know the One Armed Man’s identity. Or…do we, cause you see, I was thinking about the fact that in just these trailers alone, I had not seen a single instance of Brother Anurak using his left hand.

And so…I did what any completely reasonable, totally non-obsessed, definitely completely normal human being would do….

…and spent the last few hours watching every single scene that involved Brother Anurak in Episodes 1-7 to see if he ever uses his left hand. (I don’t have photo evidence for all of these because trying to screen shot them all would be impossible but, trust me or you can verify for yourself. I also recognize this is a lot, so you’re welcome to just like, choose at random which ones you read).

Episode 1

Welcoming Dan The first time we meet Brother Anurak is when Dan first steps foot on campus. Anurak is the person who gives Dan the school tour and walks him to class. When Dan arrives, he does the traditional ‘wai’ hands that we have come to expect of any Thai show, that is, he presses the palms of both of his hands together when he says hello. Brother Anurak, whose arms are both tucked behind his back, does not return the ‘wai’ and instead just nods. When Rerng, the groundskeeper, runs in to Dan and Anurak, he does the ‘wai’ hands at Anurak and uh…once again Anurak just nods, he does not return the ‘wai’. When he introduces Rerng to Dan, he gestures at Rerng using only his right hand. Otherwise his hands remain tucked behind his back out of view.

Rescuing Dan from Anan We are introduced to Anan in the locker room where he immediately establishes his Utter Irrepentant Douchebag status and tries to control all the boys. Anan comes in at some point and puts a stop to Anan’s hazing, and you don’t really see his body at all, the camera mostly focuses on close ups, but if you watch closely you can see only his right shoulder moving because he’s gesturing with his right hand. His left shoulder stays relatively still.

Talking to Dan about the Shadow

Brother Anurak has been working with Dan and his mother since Dan was about 7 years old. When Brother Anurak is talking with Dan in his office after his first Shadow dream, you can see Anurak’s left hand stays staunchly at his side, he does everything in this scene with his right hand.

Visiting Dan in the infirmary Dan spent the night in his dorm away from his dorm…the infirmary, after he faints in class. Brother Anurak comes to visit him, and both of his hands are hidden by the bed for the entire scene.

Episode 2

Finding Dan at the lake At the end of Episode 2, Dan collapses near the lake while coming face to face with the Shadow. Anurak and Rerng find Nai and Dan, and Rerng helps Nai carry Dan, Anurak takes the flashlight from Rerng with his right hand and that is his full contribution for Getting Dan Out of There.

Talking to Nai When Brother Anurak is scolding Nai about being off school grounds with Dan, his hands are once again hidden behind his desk, and he only gestures with his right hand.

Visiting Dan in the infirmary → transitions to his office

Brother Anurak is standing on Dan’s right in the infirmary when he wakes up after his collapse at the lake. Once again, Brother Anurak’s hands are hidden behind the bed, so you can’t see them, and then when, out of nowhere, Dan and Anurak are talking in Anurak’s office, his left hand is hidden behind the arm of his chair.

Dan wakes up from his dream

During their office session, Dan is shunted out of his dream and realizes that he has been in teh infirmary the entire time, and was not actually in Brother Anurak’s office at all. What has snapped him out of his dream is Brother Anurak shaking him awake, but… he is only using his right hand.

[Side Note: I am taking careful notice of the fact that Dan’s ability to remain present and conscious in reality seems to slip often when he is in Brother Anurak’s presence. Then again, he also sees the Shadow a bunch when he is around the theater teacher, but I have already looked at his hands, and his left hand is real and he does use it so I at the very least I don’t think he has any relationship to the one armed man.]

Episode 3

Dan, Josh, and Nai are punished for coming back late. At some point, Anurak appears to observe, but not deliver, the caning of Dan, Josh, and Nai for missing curfew after going to see the Venerable Monk. We get a wider shot, which means Anurak’s left hand is visible, but it is held in exactly the same position it always is, and he continues to only gesture with his right hand.

Telling Dan not to wear the ring Brother Anurak runs in to the boys in between classes, and he notices the lucid dreaming stone around Dan’s neck. Anurak reminds him that accessories are not allowed in school, and while standing there, his left hand still in the same position it has always been in, and he only points to Dan’s necklace with his right hand.

Teaching class

Brother Anurak is writing on the white board with his right hand, this in and of itself is not all too suspicious because he could just be right handed, but when turns to face the class, his hands are covered by the students so you can’t see either one of them. He moves to the podium and his left hand, which continues to hang at his side, is hidden behind the podium, so we can’t see his left hand. But he places his right hand on the podium, and whatever brief glimpses of the left hand we see when it peeks out the side of the podium, it is in exactly the same position as it always is.

Episode 4

Grabbing Dan from his room to take him to visit his Dad When Brother Anurak visits Dan and Josh’s room to bring Dan to the hospital to say goodbye to his father, not only is Anurak’s left hand hanging at his side, but he is shot from the right side of his body so any potentially visible part of his left hand is hidden by the open dorm room door.

At the hospital Anurak is standing on Dan’s father’s left hand side, making his left hand visible… in exactly the same position it always is, his fingers never even twitch. When Anurak leaves the room to give Dan some time alone with his father, he uses his right arm to comfort Dan even though his left arm is closer to Dan’s shoulder.

Outside the hospital room, after the flashback to Dan’s homelife Left hand visible, in exactly the same position it always is, cut to talking to Dan outside the hospital room, his left hand is hidden between his legs. We get the best close up we have had of Anurak’s left hand and it is too smooth, and is lacking in any pores or spots, and it’s weirdly shiny. (Unfortunately like the one above, the way my computer works for screenshots, the play bar covers the part of the screen I would need to take a photo of).

Flashback to Anurak talking with Dan’s mother

When we see Anurak interacting with Dan’s mother, because she was his patient, his left hand is visible, still in the same position. AND HOLY SHIT, ANYONE READING THIS, YOU NEED TO GO TO TIME STAMP 18:27 AND WATCH HOW BROTHER ANURAK STANDS UP FROM HIS CHAIR. THAT LEFT HAND IS FUCKING FAKE. IT’S FUCKING FAKE!!! He gives the rosary to Dan’s mother with his right hand.

Dan’s mother’s funeral Anurak is sitting on a bench outside the temple, and we only see him after Dan drops the coin he has leftover from buying ice cream, and it hits Anurak’s right foot. We pan out into a wide shot, and Anurak’s right side is visible. Both his hands are in Anurak’s lap but his right hand is covering his left hand so we can’t actually see it. Then, Dan sits on his left side so we never

Baby!Dan sees the Shadow and Anurak comforts him

Shortly after his mother’s death, Dan wakes up in the middle of the night and sees the Shadow looming over him. He runs screaming from his room, at which point Brother Anurak appears on the stairwell. (What he is doing in their home after Dan’s father accused his mother of sleeping with Brother Anurak, is beyond me but I digress). Brother Anurak’s right arm is hugging Dan while his left arm stays at his side, in the same position it always is

Right before Dan fights his father

Dan’s Father’s funeral Anurak comes up to talk to Dan at his father’s funeral, and as he does he places his right hand on Dan’s shoulder. Left hand? Does nothing, as usual.

Episode 5

Dan confronts Brother Anurak

We get the scene from the trailer where Dan tells Brother Anurak that he thinks Trin was murdered after seeing the visage of Trin’s dead body in the pool. This is one of my favorite instances of the hidden left hand, due to the creative use of binder placement. You get a little bit of skin from Brother Anurak’s right hand because it is further away from the camera, but in the foreground? We are not entitled to see what Anurak’s left hand looks like.

Flashback: Talking to Trin in his office after his Student President Win

After Trin wins the student body president race in a unanimous vote, he is taken first to the Headmaster’s office and then to speak with Brother Anurak about the policies he hopes to institute (read: the traditional systems Trin is hoping to change). Like always, both of Brother Anurak’s hands are initially hidden behind his desk, but as he gets more engaged, more serious about the conversation at hand (haha) he leans forward and he only brings his right hand on the table.

Anurak gets a phone call about Trin’s medical records

I don’t remember if this is the first phone call where Anurak is told that Trin had bipolar, was off his meds, and was treating his bipolar with narcotics, or if this is the second phone call where Anurak is calling an unknown person, angry because he didn’t know how Trin’s medical records got leaked to the press. Either way, and in both cases, he answers the phone with his right hand, and never uses his left.

In his office with Trin’s parents

Trin’s parents (one of whom is an MP) are naturally, pissed that Trin’s medical records got leaked and storms over to the school threatening to sue. Brother Anurak speaks with them in his office, and he offers them tea, using only his right hand, his left isn’t even in frame.

And while he is speaking with Trin’s parents, trying to calm them and sort things out, he once again, only puts his right hand on the table. His left is hidden from view.

In his study, listening to old recordings of his sessions with Trin Anurak is thinking more about Trin, and digs out old files of his using only his right hand to pull the files out of his cabinet. When he sits in his chair to listen to the audio tapes, his left arm settles in to the same position at his side as it always is when he’s in that chair, and he hides the hand very quickly underneath the file folder when he opens it.

Episode 6

Brother Anurak does not have a lot of screen time in Episode 6, but he is at the student org fair where he meets the husband of the homophobic teacher that is sleeping with Anan. And here again, the people he is with all do the ‘wai’ hands, while he just nods.

Episode 7

Taking Dan from the headmaster’s office after Anan beats him up

Dan is the unfortunate victim of Nai’s decision to blackmail Anan, and gets beaten up once again. He and Anan are called in to the Headmaster’s office to talk about what happened as Dan left the Funhouse, when all of a sudden Brother Anurak appears, asking to take Dan away since Dan is under his care. Brother Anurak’s left hand is visible, but it is once again, still held in the same position, and his right hand is the one he is using to place a comforting hand on Dan’s shoulder.

Talking to Dan in his office

We reach the final scene with Brother Anurak in the first half of the show, before the One Armed Man is introduced to the story. And it is, once more, the same deal as it has always been throughout the entire show so far. Brother Anurak’s left hand is sitting at his side, in the same position is has literally never changed from. And then he is gone from the rest of the episode, so we don’t have any visual reminders that he exists while the One Armed Man is being introduced and discussed. I have gone through every scene, I have watched to see if his fingers even twitch. They do not, his left hand, whenever it is in view, never moves. You cannot convince me at this point that Brother Anurak and the One Armed Man aren’t connected somehow. This man does not have an actual left hand.

I do not know if Brother Anurak is the One Armed Man, if he is the scapegoat for the One Armed Man, if he is possessed by, a reincarnation of, or a legitimate ghost of the One Armed Man we learn about at the end of the episode. I do not know what the Shadow is, what it wants, if it is malicious, neutral, or good, I do not know what the ghosts of Trin or those two boys want, who the dead bodies are, what happened at this school. I don’t know any of it, I don’t know if all the pieces of the puzzle we need to figure it out have been revealed yet.

But the one thing I do know, is that Brother Anurak does not have a left hand, and the level of detail that the show has done to both reveal and hide that is truly fucking impressive. Utt Uttsada who plays Anurak is doing a fucking phenomena job. I do not know how much time and effort went in to consciously never moving that arm. Like he has not once, not ever moved it. His shoulder remains completely still, his arm swings precisely as much as someone with no lower limb to control will swing. He has to be wearing some sort of prosthetic glove to keep his hand exactly in place, to make sure that his fingers don’t twitch.

It is so incredibly clever to hide his hand like this. To give us enough glances at his left hand from a distance so we don’t question it. I mean, we see his hand, right? We see it is there, it looks real, and there are so many other things to figure out about what the fuck is going on, that the last thing in our minds is the fact that Brother Anurak never uses his left hand.

Anyway, I don’t even know if this will end up being BL, but I need the entire rest of the BL fandom to deal with the occasional jumpscare and creepy smiles and stares and watch this show, so that I can scream about this with more people. Because holy fucking shit, if this show maintains the quality it has given me with the first half of the story all the way to the end, it might make a last minute grab for Show of the Year for me, with how intentional it has been.

#clown checkpoint #screaming crying throwing up about this show #shadow the series #I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO WATCH THIS FUCKING SHOW IMMEDIATELY #PLEASE #I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS SHOW WITH #wka long post #singto prachaya #fluke natouch #utt uttsada

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esmedelacroix · 3 months

Text

"And the way you cut your hair,"

husband!miguel x f!reader ♡

10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist

“I hate the way you talk to me," ← previous part

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As much as you'd hoped Miguel wouldn’t be roped back into his old habits of working like he needed it to live, he did. He would come home late, and leave the house early.

You would wait for him to get in bed but fall asleep cold and alone while he worked in his study. He would drown himself in all this unnecessary work and research whenever something personal or work-related was plaguing him.

You gave him space but it had been a while since you had seen him. Outside of already having to go on missions, he was hunched in his study making whatever gizmos or gadgets he thought of. It had been almost a month and you only saw Miguel two times a week, always in his office sleeping at his desk.

You were fed up with not being able to see him and 'giving him his space'. You barged into his office where he was working on a new suit. There were all sorts of reports, open books, scrap pieces, and nails scattered on the ground. The only light illuminating the room was his screens that were hanging around.

The low buzz of all the machines and monitors was the only sound that could be detected other than Miguel's breath hitching whenever he accidentally poked himself with the needle.

Miguel had dark circles under his eyes. His glasses sat on his nose and a toothpick was lodged in his mouth. He had a slight stubble growing but one thing really caught your eye and that was his hair. Which was tied up into a slick man bun. A man bun?! You thought to yourself in shock. As much as you hated to see him in this state, you loved this look on him.

His head shot up, eyes following you as you walked over to him dodging any of the nails on the ground. "Miguel, this is getting out of hand," you sighed as you plopped down next to him.

He put the suit and needle down and turned to you. "I know, I'm sorry, I just didn't want to burden you with my problems," he sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

"Oh my god, Miguel?! I'm your girlfriend. It hurts me more when you don't tell me what's going on," you insisted, almost laughing at the thought of him burdening you because of opening up.

That night you dragged Miguel out of his study and ran a bath for him. He stepped out of the bathroom while you were reading a book on your bed already in the sheets waiting for him. He had a towel wrapped around his hips displaying his v-line and his slutty little waist. That wasn't even what made you go wild. It was his hair. He didn't go for a haircut in ages and his wet hair was now draped over his face a bit.

It was longer than it usually was. You watched as he ran his hand through his hair and flipped it a bit. You most likely soiled your panties right then and there.

He put on some boxers and sweats and got into bed with you. You noticed that he was using one of your Sanrio scrunchies to tie his hair. You didn't know that Miguel with a man bun was something that you needed biblically until now. "What? Should I cut it?" Miguel asked, feeling your eyes on him.

"No! No, I don't mind it," you said trying to play off your sudden outburst.

"Okay..." he smirked as wrapped his arms around you. You giggled as he tickled your neck with kisses. You had finally calmed down and lay on the bed together.

"I missed this," he sighed.

"Promise me you'll talk to me next time you feel like you're entering a slump. Let me be your support system," she whispered as she played with the loose strands of his hair as the pale moonlight shone on them through the window.

"I promise," he whispered as the two of you drifted off to sleep.

. . .

next part → "I hate the way you drive my car,"

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taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300

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mvltisstuff · 1 year

Note

hello again, i’ve requested a few times (the feels and sweet nothing) and i was hoping i could request again? (i think i might add an emoji at the end bc i love your writing and will keep requesting as much as you allow ❤️❤️) anyway, i hope you’re doing well and things are going good.

i was wondering if i could request a buck fic where is partner is an artist and he finds a sketchbook of sketches of him and when he asks about it they talk about how pretty he is and how deserves to be appreciated and just making him feel super loved with it. thank you if you get to it and ofc no troubles if you don’t. take care 🥰

also is 🚒 good for a way to recognize me??

wasteland, baby! - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: omg you always have such creative ideas! i love receiving requests so always feel free :)) 🚒 = ❤️‍🔥 i also won’t be posting as frequently for the next few weeks due to finals, but after that i’ll be posting a ton!!

buck had come over to y/n’s apartment after his shift for dinner, and the scent of thick acrylic paint and primer had stung at his nostrils. he began to love the smell, as he knew that it meant she was around. he had let himself in with his key, taking in all of the perfectly placed plants and artwork on the walls.

she had a canvas that was almost complete, with just a few finishing touches. buck had walked over to it to examine. her talent was extraordinary. he knew it was out of this world, and the way she was so proud of her pieces his made his heart swell up with love.

“hi, buck!” y/n says, beginning to walk out of the hallway from her room to her art. she was wearing a pair of dark green pants and a white t-shirt which somehow complimented her beautifully. her face had small specks of blue and red on her cheeks and black and grey streaks on her shirt. “sorry it’s such a mess in here, but doesn’t this look great?”

“no, don’t worry about the mess, but how long did that take? it’s amazing!” buck stutters a big, not being able to comprehend how art like that could come out of her hands.

“thank you, love,” she replies, taking his belongings and placing them down for him. “how was work today? anything good?”

“just a normal old day, but you know it’s the 118.”

“it is never normal at the 118,” y/n smiles and gives him a cheek kiss before going to wipe her face off. buck goes to sit down in her living room on the couch, and she follows behind him with a quick change of shirt. she placed a small pizza in the oven to cook for them, and cuddled up next to him while they told each other stories about their day.

“it was wild, y/n,” buck starts. “i mean this woman literally rose from the dead after like 15 minutes, after being under a street. oh! you’re going to love this- and we saved some puppies in a sewer.”

“oh my god, are they ok?”

“they’re all fine, but i’m not sure if we are right now.”

“what do you mean?” she asks, slowly and carefully.

“you don’t smell something burning?”

she takes a deep inhale and looks over to her smokey kitchen. it wasn’t too bad, but definitely enough to make it inedible. “shit! fuck, i forgot about it!” she says, bouncing the pan up and down while trying not to burn herself.

y/n was busy discarding of the pizza when buck looked over at her with joy. he had a cheeky smile on his face and was laughing at the forgetfulness of both of them. he looked back down in front of him and the coffee table, and he saw a book that y/n always has on her. she brings it to work, to her family, anywhere she goes, she has it. it was her beloved sketchbook, filled with hundreds of small doodles and big pieces. buck has seen a lot of things in it, admiring each one before he comes across a bookmarked section.

when he flips the pages of the book, he notices that the person that is sketched and shaded looks particularly familiar. he makes note of the sharp nose and soft, but hard jaw. he sees the famous birthmark on the side of his face. he’s never looking right on, though. he’s always focused on something or has a light grin on his face. buck knows these are of him, but he doesn’t think he had any importance to be the top drawing in her book.

y/n walks back in to greet her boyfriend, “i think we might just have to ord-“ she looks at the sketches that she had put on that paper. a heat rose up into her face, reddening her cheeks and making her feel a sense of embarrassment.

“a-are these me?” buck asks, quietly. y/n nods, slowly, praying that she didn’t make him uncomfortable and that she will see him again tomorrow. “i-um..”

“you don’t have to say anything, buck. i never meant for you to see those and if you don’t like them, i’ll never do it again i swear. you just, you’re so beautiful, buck. and i love to draw beautiful things.”

“i just don’t know what to say, these are so good. i feel like you know me more than i know myself,” he says, chuckling a bit.

“you like ‘em?”

“i love them,” buck says.

“good, i just couldnt stop myself. you are always so pretty, no matter what and i want you to know that, so i tried to convey it through this. i was going to show you eventually, but i wanted to do more.”

“why me, though? you could draw anyone,” buck asks.

“no one else is you! you might have a pretty face and all but there is really nothing more beautiful than your soul. you are filled with so much love and sweetness and i’ve been dying to find a way to show you, because you are loved, evan. i love you and i wanted to put my two favorite things together. not a day goes by where i have anything but love for you.”

suddenly, the feeling in bucks chest is rising stronger, feeling like it’s going to burst. when it does, he has strong riptides of tears in his eyes. with a pure smile on his face, he passionately leaves a kiss on her lips, and he feels loved for the first time.

growing up, his parents never showed him love. he always begged for it from everyone he knew, and now he feels like it isn’t deserved. but someone, y/n made him feel like he will forever be worthy of love. and he will never forget how she fixed him for the best.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #evan buck buckley x reader #evan buckley x reader #athena grant #henrietta wilson #howie han #maddie buckley

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always-and-forever-daydreaming · 3 months

Text

A helping hand

warnings : (my writing probably, haha) none? just fluff and some good old hand kink, mention of blood Honestly, I have no idea how to write, but hands of this man have been haunting me for long enough to make me post this.Also, English is not my first language, so if you find any mistake, please, correct me. Enjoy, fellow Mikaelson whores! <3 Also the most amazing @archangelslollipop made this edit you see above, thank you, bestie. She also made me post this.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were reading a book when Elijah stormed into the room. Well, this was his study after all. You immediately closed it and put your full attention onto him. You never seen him like this. He was pacing back and forth, his chest heavily raising and falling. You were actually scared.

What could have happened to leave this normally very calm man looking like this?

He finally stopped, looking outside through the window, as he ran his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. You noticed his jacket was missing, his tie wasn't straight and his shirt had few buttons undone.

Then your eyes landed on his hands.

His rolled up sleeves exposed his arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat. His arms and hands were always your weakness. You just couldn't stop looking at them for some reason. Well, for a very obvious reason, really. And the longer your eyes lingered on them, the more heat started spreading through your body. Your imagination was already running wild. You could almost feel those hands touching your body, fingers trailing down your throat and then closing around it. Not enough to kill you, of course, but enough to make you hot and bothered.

You closed your eyes and exhaled trying to clear your head.

"I think I should leave..." you mumbled and stood up from you seat.

"No!" Elijah exclaimed loudly.

You froze in your actions and looked at him in disbelief. You never heard him raise his voice like that, let alone while he was speaking with you.

"I apologize for my outburst,"he said as he looked at the ground, his voice much quieter, "Please, stay right where you are, if you do not need to go, that is."

You were eyeing him for a while. Why did he want you here? It's not like you could do much to help. Not that he would tell you what was going on, anyway.

But at the state that he was in, you didn't dare to ask.

"Alright."

You sat back on the chair.

He let out a loud breath and started pacing around the room again. That went for about 5 more minutes, his pace was still the same if not quicker, so you took all the courage that you could muster and tried to intervene.

"Elijah?"

It seemed as he was waiting for that, because he started to passionately elaborate what happened with anger in his voice.

"Nothing is going according to plan. Nothing. And now they -"

He stopped and let out a breath, his shoulders shaking, knuckles whitening as he clutched a corner of his working desk.

You gulped.

Those goddamn hands are going to be the end of you.

"Those pathetic existences think that they could lay a finger on you."

That brought you back out of your dirty imagination rather quickly. This whole ordeal was about you?

"You mean the De Martel siblings?"you asked as you watched him pour a glass of bourbon.

The Mikaelsons really have a bottle of an expensive alcohol in every room in their house. And boy, does the house have a lot of rooms.

"Yes. I should have ended the both of them centuries ago. Aurora is a complete lunatic and that narcissistic waste of space..."

He shook his head and downed the golden liquid in his glass with one gulp.

"But why?"

He turned to face you and narrowed his eyes.

"Pardon?"

You stood up and made one step towards him.

"Why me? Why Are they threatening to hurt me?"

He put his glass down and his mahagony eyes locked with yours.

"Because you're important to me."

Your breath hitches, your heart stops.

"To all of us," he adds quickly and turns away from you again.

Disappointment fills your entire body. How could you even for a second think that you mean something more to him? You should be grateful that the siblings care for you as a good friend. They're like your family, you basically live at their mansion now and you love all of them.

But with Elijah...

You just couldn't help but want something more. He was the definition of perfect in your head. How completely selfish and pathetic of you.

"And Tristan had the audacity to take your beautiful name into his disgusting mouth. I am going to destroy him."

You shivered at his cold tone. Suddenly, there was a loud shattering sound. Your head snapped in his direction and you saw that he broke the glass while he was holding it. You closed the distance between the two of you and carefully grabbed his hand by his wrist.

"Oh my god, Elijah," you whispered as you were looking at his palm that was full of shards of glass, blood trickling from the cuts.

"It's nothing, please, don't hurt yourself."

His voice was smooth, like velvet caressing your brain.

You quietly laughed and answered : "It's not nothing. You're literally bleeding and you're worried about me getting hurt?"

He chuckled in response.

"You know that my wounds heal much faster than yours."

You rolled your eyes.

"Yes, but not when you have glass still inside them. Let me get those out for you. Do you have a tweezers by any chance?"

He used his other hand to open one drawer and handed them to you. It scared you how organized he was.

You hopped on his desk and took his hand on your lap. The lamp was shining its light right where you needed it, so you could see even the little pieces glittering in it. You carefully took them out, one by one. Comfortable silence surrounded. You were trying not to focus on the fact that you were holding the hands that didn't let you sleep for the last week. Well, maybe even longer than that.

"I think there's none left," you said as you were turning his hand to see if you missed some.

"Thank you, my dear. I appreciate your help."

His voice was warm again, and you could almost feel his chest vibrating, that's how close you two were.

You just smiled and kept staring at your almost locked hands.

"Forgive me, it seems some of my blood got on your hands."

He handed you his hankerchief. You took it with your free hand. You didn't want to let go.

"Y/n?"

You looked up at him. Fuck it. You might not get any other chance to do this. And you only live once, and god knows for how long when De Martels are trying to get you and you're just a human.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have very good looking hands?"

You were shocked that you actually said it out loud. Elijah was taken aback too. To say the least. His eyes widened and his lips parted.

That's it. He's gonna call you a creep, kick you out of their house. This is the end of your fairytale.

"No, I believe noone has ever told me that," he smiled at you.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, you smiled back at him and brushed you thumb over the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and leaned closer to you. One hand staying on your lap, the other finding yours that was resting by your side, clutching the piece of cloth he gave you. You felt your fingers interlock and you closed your eyes too. You couldn’t believe that this was happening.

„Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most beautiful being inside and out that they have ever come across during a millenium?“ he whispered to your ear.

Goosebumps appeared on your skin. You didn’t dare to open your eyes. You felt like you’re in a dream and if you open them, it will all go away. Your heart was singing his song.

„No, I believe noone has ever told me that,“ you repeat his words, smile plastered on your face.

And than it happened. You smelled his cologne more intensely than ever before, that scent that was driving you crazy and brought peace to your soul at once. Your heart sank when he took his hand out of yours on your lap, but only for a second, until you felt it brush your cheek gently, almost carefully, like you were going to fade away in a second.

His warmth welcomed you as he leaned closer and closer. And then your lips touched. It was like fireworks went off in your brain. After a moment, he pulled away and your foreheads were touching.

It was almost an innocent kiss, a quick peck. But it said everything you both needed in that moment.

You burried your face into the crook of his neck and put your hands around it. His fingers played with the loose locks of your hair. You were in a blissfully unknown state.

„These hands won’t let them come near you. They won’t have a chance to even touch a hair on your precious head,“ he mumbled as he kissed the top of it.

You giggled.

„But I wouldn’t mind if they would touch me in the meantime,“your voice was muffled by his neck.

He took you by your shoulders and gently pulled you away from him, so he could see your face.

„Oh, is that so?“

He smiled, his eyes twinkled and he kissed you again. For much longer this time.

Much, much longer.

#elijah mikaelson #the mikaelsons #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #hand kink #the originals

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leelei1980 · 3 months

Text

Loving Mr.Munson- In the beginning - Part one- Connection

This is a mini series, a Prologue to the Loving Mr. Munson series that I am writing -

This series is based the reader, giving insight into her life and what her life was like dating the infamous Robbie Munson, Eddie's son. It brings us through the first date, the first time meeting Mr. Munson and the reader catching Robbie cheating. This was a request and I hope that you all enjoy it!

🛑 Smut warning- Mature content-18+ -Minors DNI 🛑

Robbie Munson:

Reader:

You couldn't believe it, tonight you were actually going out on a date. It's not like you had never dated before, you had in highschool, you had a boyfriend in highschool. Said boyfriend had however decided that it would probably be better if you amicably broke up before college leaving the door open for the both of you to , how did he put it, 'Explore other options." You were heartbroken, not really feeling the need to explore other options, you would have been perfectly happy in a long distance relationship, calling and catching up in person when possible, he was only going to school an hour away for christ sakes, it was not like he was halfway across the country! But you decided that you were probably better off anyway, that without him on your mind you would be able to concentrate on your work, put all of your focus on learning.

You weren't even interested in being in a relationship, you were fine with being alone, you were a smart, independent girl, you had friends that you hung out with ,but you were also happy just hanging back and reading in your dorm room. You were fine being a homebody, and lived vicariously through your crazy roommate Lisa, she was the complete opposite of you, she was wild and crazy and outgoing and the two of you were instant friends . You had really won the lottery with her, you had heard nightmarish stories of college roommates that were absolute nutcases and felt fortunate that you had been placed with her.

Freshman year flew by, your grades were outstanding, your parents were extremely proud of you and you felt completely in the zone and ready for your Sophomore year. Sure your classes were be a little more difficult but you could handle it, you had no distractions in your life.... until the fateful night that Lisa took you to a party. That was the night you met Robbie Munson.

" You need to get out and live a little! You always stay cooped up in this room, studying and reading, your halfway through your Sophomore year and you haven't even been to a party, you haven't gotten laid-" Your roommate stood before ripping the textbook from your hands." Your going out tonight. There are going to be some super hot guys at this party maybe you can finally hook up-"

You shook your head and grabbed at the book." I don't really care about hooking up Lisa-"

" Well I care! Your practically a Nun!" She tossed the book away. " Don't be such a nerd! Come out with me!"

" I can't, I don't have anything to wear-"

" You can borrow something from me -"

" My ass is way bigger than yours is-"

" Great! Show it off! Your way too pretty to hide yourself away in this room. " She sighed then whined, "Come on!"

You sighed back. " Fine, fine! " You flopped back on your bed dramatically." Find me something to wear "

" Yes!" Lisa shrieked and ran to her closet and started throwing clothes at you.

You let her, as she called it,'Slut you up' a little bit, she did your makeup, your hair and picked out an outfit then you guys were out the door.

The party was mayhem, loud and crowded, definitely not your scene, and shortly after arriving you found yourself wandering out to the porch for some fresh air. That's when you caught a whiff of pot, that is when you met Robbie Munson.

He was gorgeous, he had the kindest eyes you had ever seen and they drew you in. You spent the rest of the night sitting on the front porch talking and laughing like you had known him your whole life. He was funny and oozed charm and charisma, you had never met anyone like Robbie Munson.

" So gorgeous girl," He flashed you a toothy smile. " I felt a connection between the two of us,did you feel a connection?"

You smiled. There was definitely something there between the two of you." I'm feeling a spark for sure."

He smiled again." Good, that's good. " He bit his lip and lightly ran a finger along the back of your hand." I think that we should see where this -" he pointed between the two of you." Goes. Whatta ya say? Want to go out sometime?"

" Yes!" You answered almost too quickly." That would be wonderful."

" Tomorrow? Is that too soon? Do you have any plans?"

" I was just planning on studying but other than that I'm open."

" You're a smart cookie aren't you?How about this Sweetheart, since midterms are right around the corner, and we could both probably use a little review why don't we do a study date? Unless you think that is totally lame-"

" No! Not at all! It would be perfect."

" We could study, I could get us a pizza, beer, we could get to know each other, super casual, super chill."

You sighed. " That sounds amazing."

Robbie smiled and it made your heart melt. "Than it's a date. Wanna study here? Pretty sure my roommates will all be out for the night, it being the weekend and all, we would have the place to ourselves."

"Sounds great." You smiled. You watched as he picked up your hand and brought it to his lips.

" Until tomorrow Cookie."

**********************************************************

You fiddled with the hem of your sweater as you stood on the front porch of Robbie's place waiting for him to answer the door. You were so fucking nervous, it had been forever since you had been on a date, forever since you had kissed someone and sex- you practically considered yourself to be a born again virgin at this point. What if one thing led to another and you ended up having sex tonight? Would you even remember what to do? The thought made your stomach flutter.

You jumped when the door opened and you could only hope that he hadn't seen you.

A large smile spread across his face. "Welcome back Cookie, come on in."

You felt your heart pitter patter at the sweet nickname. You smile." Thanks Robbie."

He guided you into the house,placing a hand on your lower back, and lead you into the dining room where there was pizza and cold beer waiting . "Welcome, make yourself at home."

The two of you studied for a couple of hours, quizzing each other on different subjects, and your stomach did flip flops every time you caught him looking at you over the top of his book . The two of you would try to keep it interesting by asking questions about each other along the way, you found out that Robbie was an only child, that he had been raised solely by his dad, that his mom had abandoned them when he was just a baby, and that he was the first Munson to go to college. He had played a lot of sports in middle school and high school, but didn't consider himself a jock, he did some theater, played the guitar a little bit and had very eclectic music taste.

You were absolutely drawn to him, and there were times when you realized that you were simply staring at him, into his big dark brown puppy dog eyes, at his full lips. He was the prettiest boy you had ever seen.

" I have a question for you Cookie," Robbie smiled and reached across the table taking one of your hands in his and making circles along the back of it with his thumb.

" Sure, fire away Munson ." You were trying to play it cool, but the truth was just the feeling of your hand in his was making your heart flutter.

" Can I kiss you?" His eyes locked with yours.

You blinked. This gorgeous boy wanted to kiss you? You had to make sure you weren't dreaming," You want to kiss me?"

He smiled." I've been wanting to kiss you all goddamned night, from the second you walked in that door."

" Really?"

" Yes really." He ran a finger down the side of your face and leaned forward across the table." So, what do you say?"

You leaned the rest of the way across the table and lightly placed your mouth on his. His lips were soft and warm on yours, pillowy and plush, and when he reached up and held your face gently in his hands, you knew you were a goner. You had forgotten how much you liked kissing, the intimacy of it, and Robbie, he was an amazing kisser. You could kiss this boy all night, and you did. The initial kiss at the table lead to kissing in the hallway, getting pressed up against the door to his bedroom, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck. He pulled away just long enough to open the door then his mouth was on yours again and he was walking you back towards the bed. You felt the back of your legs hit the mattress and you pulled him down with you. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

Robbie pulled away, his body now hovering over yours."We can stop at anytime Sweetheart, ok?"

You looked up at him and smiled. " I don't want to stop Robbie, please don't stop, it's just that it's been a while-"

He cupped your cheek in his hand and smiled." Don't worry baby, I will take good care of you." And just like that his mouth and his hands were all over you. His touch was gentle and sweet, and you could feel your body trembling as he undressed you, it wasn't because of fear, though you were a little nervous, it was more from anticipation, knowing what was coming next. You certainly weren't a prude but you weren't typically the kind of girl to put out on the first date. But there was something different with Robbie, there was a connection, like you could see this turning into something more. Maybe you were just naive, maybe you were just horny.

And you had to admit it, you missed this. You missed the closeness, the warmness and weight of a male body on top of you. There was something about the hardness of his body complimenting the softness of yours. He took his time, almost painstakingly so, warming you up, making sure that your body was ready for him. You gasped as he entered you, feeling the fullness of him inside you. It had been so long since the last time you had sex that you had almost forgotten how good it felt.

Robbie groaned as he slowly pumped in and out of you, the sound of his voice was music to your ears. It felt so good and you hoped and prayed that for his sake and yours you would be able to climax. It wasn't always something that happened and your previous boyfriend often times he made you feel like you were broken because you didn't cum every time. He also ignored the fact that 90% of the time he fucked into you like a jackrabbit and was done in two minutes, but according to him that didn't have anything to do with it at all.

Robbie was different, he was taking his time with you, maybe it was because it was your first time, maybe not but it was incredible.

You soon felt the dizzying wave of pleasure wash over you and you were greatful for the release, and just moments after Robbie climaxed, spilling his seed into the condom that he wore. He collapsed on top of you and you ran your fingers through his thick curls. He picked up his head and smiled, his beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Stay with me." He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to your dewy forehead and you swore in that moment you knew, that this could potentially turn into something truly special.

As always thank you for reading❤️ I always appreciate comments and re-blogs,you guys are the best🥰

Tag list Lovlies : @tlclick73 @fairymunson @micheledawn1975 @elegantkoalapaper @goth-cowgirl-03 @bmunson86 @retrorage86 @hideoutside @veemoon @emmyshortcake @erinekc @babyloutattoo89 @amberolivia666 @eddiesxangel @liminalpebble @eddiesacousticguitar @munsons-mayhem28 @munsonsmullet @skyline4446 @maskofmirrors @blainetiberiuswinchester @bexreadstoomuch @xxhellfirebunnyxx @candice-1983 @imyourdaninow @harrywavycurly @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mmunson86

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #older eddie munson #loving mr munson #leeleiwrites

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propertyofwhitney67 · 9 days

Note

For the prompt event!!! M!Whitney x F!PC with stepcest, pregnancy, and domestic stuff? not quite sure if i could ask for three prompts, so feel free to pick from those three if i listed too much!!

I also really love your writing btw :DD you were one of the first DOL blogs I followed! Keep up the great work!!

Mother knows Best

M!Whitney x F!Reader

Prompt Event: stepcest, pregnancy, domestic stuff

Words: 422

Tw: Pregnancy, stepcest/pseudocest,

Note: Oh my goodness!!! Thank you so much, omg I’m gonna cry. I can’t believe I wasn’t following you already, I’m so scatterbrained. I loved this so much that I had to do all three.

My thoughts are running wild, I can’t even focus on my book. I rubbed my pregnant stomach, my big stepbrother's baby. Whitney’s baby. I sighed deeply, I don’t regret it but it’s been hard. People talk and rumors spread.

I didn’t notice said big brother walk into the room and sit down till I felt him lay in my lap. His weight pulled me from my thoughts, his presence was comforting. I ran my fingers through his hair as he turned the tv on, “Hey.” He hummed but didn’t answer, resting his head on my stomach and changing the channel. I shook my head and smiled, going back to my book. “Love you too.”

He rubbed my thigh lovingly and joked, “You love your big brother? How sick.”

I lightly slapped him upside the head, “You should be grateful I love you. Do you don’t want an angry pregnant woman on your hands?” He knew I was sensitive about that.

Whitney answered almost instantly, “No.” He’s seen how I can get when I’m upset or don’t get what I want. “I don’t.”

As if to emphasize my words, I felt the baby kick, hitting Whitney who was resting his head on my stomach. “They agree.” I smiled and went back to my book, feeling the baby kick some more.

He chuckled lowly, lifting my shirt to show off my stomach and rubbing it. He all but forgot about whatever show was on the tv, focusing on the baby growing in my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you…” I heard Whitney whisper, trying to be quiet. I smiled widely behind my book but stayed silent, enjoying listening to him talk to our baby. They would sometimes kick in response to whatever Whitney was talking about.

“Having fun?” I asked, turning a page in my book.

He hummed happily, “I think they like me more than you.”

I rolled my eyes, putting my book down to the side. “Oh really?” I asked before crossing my arms.

“Yep.” He kissed my stomach and pulled my shirt back down. “I think she’s going to be a daddy’s girl.”

I raised a brow and crossed my arms, “Since when are they a girl? I thought we were keeping it a surprise?” We specifically agreed on it being a surprise.

Whitney sat up, smirking. “A father knows.” He explained, rubbing my thigh again.

I pursed my lips and hummed, “Uh huh, I thought a mother knows best?”

He dropped his head and mumbled under his breath, “Fuck…”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

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thepsychewrites · 2 years

Text

Lost and Found | N. Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: After finding where Natasha had been hiding the past few months since the fall out after the Sokovia Accords, you were determined to never lose her again.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI ;; brief mention of a gun, teeny bit of angst if you squint, established relationship, smut, fingering and oral (R receiving), descriptive language, mommy kink (sorry not sorry), slight praise, nipple sucking, cum eating, this is depraved besties i’m not gonna lie, mentions of scissoring.

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: Hi besties — I haven’t posted in AGES, so here’s my comeback 😎 I hope you whores enjoy. Reblogs n feedback are highly appreciated <3

Main Masterlist

———————

There are a few things in life you deemed regrettable.

The dress you wore to junior year prom. The obnoxious blue colored frames you chose for your first pair of glasses.Turning down a full ride to Princeton and the handful of scholarships other ivy leagues offered. Working for SHIELD instead of an organization less life-threatening and deceptive. Running as a fugitive of the law from saving your friends life and not registering into the Sokovia Accords.

Looking back on the decisions you’ve made, there was only one you’d go back and change if you were ever given the chance.

You wouldn’t have let Natasha convince you to split off — going your separate ways off grid without one another after the two of you, along with nearly half of your friends, were seen as traitors of the team. It was an awful idea to begin with, but Natasha has a way of convincing people she always knows the right answer to everything. At one point, the two of you were connected at the hip, never doing anything without the other close by. But it’s been three months since you’ve seen your girlfriend, and you weren’t going to stay away any longer.

It was nearly impossible to find where she was hiding out. The woman was the epitome of camouflage, even out in the open she couldn’t be seen. She was untraceable, untrackable. It would be an easier job to find a Tasmanian tiger still alive in the wild than it would be to find Natasha Romanoff on the run.

Unless, of course, you knew exactly what to look for.

After weeks of digging around, endlessly searching every corner of the world — you found her.

Tucked under the cover of the towering and snowy Norwegian mountains, dusk had just settled down over the trailer home Natasha had secured herself in. A faint yellow light illuminated the inside, partially blocked from the charcoal curtains that hung over the small dirty windows. She had gotten into the shower less than two minutes ago, the faint pitter patter of the scalding water dropping around her barely heard from the outside. Your ear was pressed against the metallic paneling of the trailer, listening for your opportunity to enter.

Natasha’s guard was down. It was now or never.

With careful footsteps you tiptoed across the mossy grass, your breath slow and steady. You pulled a pick from your sleeve, placing it in the lower lock of the door and waiting to hear the clicks. Once the last one sounded, you turned the handle to check your success. It unlocked. You placed the pick in the deadbolt, wiggling around until it too snapped out of place. With a cautious push you opened the door.

Natasha was never big on keeping sentimental items around, and that was still true for her current hideout. It was set up like any standard trailer home, a living room to the right that led into a small kitchen, which connected to a narrow hallway where the bathroom was before opening into a bedroom to the left of the house. The couch had a few knitted blankets thrown over the sides of it, a computer and some books messily laid atop a rectangular table in front. The kitchen counter held a few loose pieces of change, a vase with wilting pansies and lilacs dangling over its sides, and a short stack collection of Norwegian magazines. She had obviously attempted to make it as homey as possible, but that could be a difficult task for someone who never had a true place to call home.

Natasha must have felt the shift in the atmosphere, because the second you had sat down the shower turned quiet, a heavy silence filling the space. You waited the long seconds in between, the time racking up to two minutes until you heard any noise from the bathroom. The door opened with an odd creak, a suspecting redhead turning the corner quickly with a glock in hand, pointed directly at you. Her hair was dripping onto the linoleum floor below, her baggy t-shirt and black cotton shorts sticking to her body. It took her three seconds to lower it, a surprised look covering her face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Good god, Natasha, I hope you don’t greet all of your guests like that.” A light smile pulled at your lips, eyebrows raised in amusement at her slightly panicked state.

“Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” She asked in a whispered yell, creeping closer and placing the gun down by the kitchen sink. Before waiting for an answer she turned to the door, pressing into it and relocking the deadbolt, moving next to close the gaps in the curtains over the closest window.

Standing up from the couch, you inched towards her. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come find you? After four years together I thought you’d know me better than that, Natty.” Upon reaching her, you couldn’t help but to tuck back a fallen strand of hair, your thumb gliding across her warm, terribly flushed cheek. “Plus,” You said with a sigh, “I was getting lonely. It’s cold at night when you’re not in bed next to me.”

Natasha looked disappointed, her frown slightly pouty, but her eyes were warm and understanding. “Where were you staying?”

You couldn’t help but groan playfully. “A miserable, cramped apartment in Vienna. It wasn’t ideal, but… I didn't have much of a choice. It was safe.”

Natasha’s pretty green eyes were studying you intensely, almost as if she was seeing your face for the first time again. A gentle hand found your hip, and she pushed at your soft skin until your bodies connected. “You should’ve stayed there,” She mumbled, her gaze falling to your lips. “If they find out where I am…”

“They won’t.” You assured with a shake of your head.

“You’ll get us both killed.” She stated with warning in her voice, her forehead resting against yours.

You hummed, your lips a hair's width from hers. Her breath was hot. Minty. Inviting.

“Then I hope they bury us somewhere with a view.”

With enough time wasted, you pressed your lips to hers, a familiar taste settling in your mouth. Both of her hands found your sides now, pushing you into her with a desperate force as her tongue circled against yours with a fire you almost forgot she possessed. The second a choked whimper came from you, she pulled back. “Bedroom, now.” It was all she said before you were being picked up, her fingers clutching your thighs as she hauled you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around her waist as your arms did the same around her neck.

You pushed her hair away from her face, biting and kissing the pale skin at her jawline and throat as she maneuvered the two of you through the hallway, kicking at the bedroom door to get it open. She openly groaned when you nipped at her sweet spot, your teeth pinching the skin right under her ear. Natasha found your lips once more before sitting you down on top of her bed, the blankets being shoved to the side.

Her fingers gathered the material at the bottom of your sweatshirt, gripping it harshly and dragging it up your torso. “Get this off. All of it. I need to see my girl.” With a quick pull she had it up and over your head in a second, her mouth leaving a sloppy trail over your collarbone while moving to the hooks of your bra and unclasping them.

With each mark of Natasha’s lips across your skin, she claimed you as hers. It wasn’t a question in either of your minds — you belonged to one another. Time didn’t mean a thing. Whether it was three months or three years, you would always be hers, and Natasha would always be yours.

Her shirt came off next, no bra to fiddle with underneath. Natasha straddled your legs, her chest now fully on top of yours as she pushed you back into the mattress, the added weight simultaneously comforting you and making your head spin. You could’ve cried as you felt her taut nipples drag across your breasts, a feeling you’ve missed all too much these last few weeks. “Nat…” You whined, already struck with the ache that always came with her feeling you up, “Need you…”

Her eyes stayed on yours as she worked her way down, kissing and nibbling at any and every inch of skin to her disposal. “I know you need me, baby. Be patient.” She never kept you waiting for long, but things might be different this time around. Three months was too much time spent without you. Her dreams always led her to imagine you here in this exact spot, stretched out over her bed and peering up at her with that hazy look she couldn’t get enough of. She wanted to savor this moment and bask in the beauty that was laid out before her. She wanted to move slowly when she felt you, kissed you, tasted you, so as to not let this dream pass by in a second's time.

Natasha’s mouth dropped to your tingling chest, her tongue dipping out ever so slightly when she reached your breasts, circling around them before taking your nipple into her mouth. She began with the right side, wrapping her kiss-swollen lips over it and sucking heavily, closing her eyes and humming in contentment. The vibrations ran through you like water, sending shockwaves of pleasure down every nerve. Your need for her touch only grew when her hands moved, one finding your other boob and squeezing down on it, the other connecting with the center of your throat, grasping just enough to make you work for your breath. Her tongue toyed with your nipple for only a moment more before she released it, a string of spit snapping at the lost connection. She quickly found the other, giving it the same treatment as you squirmed beneath her. Your hands were leaving light scratches up and down the expanse of her back, which only drove Natasha crazier by the second.

“Fuck… please, Nat. Please touch me.” You were growing impatient, loving how good she was making you feel but knowing if she didn’t touch you where you needed her, and soon, you would combust.

She bit down softly on your puffy nipple, a warning and a tease, before letting it pop from between her lips to hover over you. “What do you want then, pretty girl? My fingers…” She tipped her head down to kiss your nose. “My mouth?” Another wet kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you my cunt if that’s what you want… but you’ve got to behave for me first.” She whispered darkly in your ear before nipping at your lobe.

A depraved sob left you, your mind swirling with desire and too clouded in everything Natasha to give her a coherent answer. You wanted all of the above, but being greedy never got you anywhere.

“Hmm, is my baby too excited to speak?” Natasha knew you could get soft and sweet on her like this sometimes, and it wasn’t any wonder it would happen after so long apart. “That’s alright, I’ve got you angel. Mommy’s here.” She cooed delicately and without hesitation.

Her words made your head spin.

It was instinctual, the way in which she knew how to love you. Like maybe she was put into the universe to do exactly that. And if her higher purpose was to care for you, love you, and to be so intensely intertwined with you like this? Then she would accept that fate with open arms.

Natasha sat up onto her knees, her hands coming to cradle your sides as she helped push you further towards the headboard. With a huff you laid back against the few satiny pillows, watching with lidded eyes as Natasha settled her gaze onto your clothed pussy. The dark denim presented a barrier between her and her favorite thing in the world — and she wouldn’t let it stay there for long. Her fingers immediately found the button and zipper, both being undone in a matter of seconds. She removed the jeans from your legs, aimlessly throwing them by the door. To be even more of a tease, she bent over, placing a singular kiss at the band of your lacy underwear, her teeth grazing the edge. She pulled the material between her lips, eyes locked on yours before slowly dragging them down your thighs, over your bent knees, and past your ankles until they too were off. While still sitting upright she found the waist of her shorts, pulling them off in one swift movement. She had nothing underneath, the two of you now completely bare.

Seeing Natasha like this after so long made you emotional, and you couldn’t help how your eyes watered up at the sight of her. “You’re so perfect, Nat. So beautiful…” You mumbled through blurred vision, a sniffle coming soon after.

“Oh sweet girl,” She said in the same quiet manner, coming back down to leave a kiss on your lips. “So are you. Absolutely perfect and all mine. I’ve missed you more than words can say.” Her hands trailed over your sides, your hips, your thighs, anywhere they could find purchase and anchor her down. “Let me take care of you tonight, baby. Are you gonna be good for mommy and let me do that? Huh? You gonna let your mommy show you how much she missed you?”

Her voice carried to your ears and sent chills through your spine, setting a fire to your core and making it burn straight through you. You’d let this woman do anything she desired, no questions asked. “Yes mommy,” You nodded fervently, “Want you so bad.”

Her hands traveled under your thighs and dug into the skin at your hips, giving her the leverage she needed to sink back on her knees, her face now right above your glistening pussy. You barely had time to blink before her tongue was dragging flat up your folds, gathering your slick and twirling over your clit. Cursing through a particularly loud moan, your head pushed into the pillows as your back arched from the bed, delirium washing over you.

It was clear Natasha enjoyed how your body responded, her lips closing around your bud to suckle it, finding a steady rhythm that sent you writhing in her grasp. She ate you out like she was on death row and it was her last meal, savoring every drop of your arousal that entered her mouth.

You didn’t notice when one of her hands left your hip until you felt the pad of her middle finger circle around the tight ring of your pussy. Crying out, you bucked up into her face, her remaining hand landing over your stomach to keep you down. The tip of her finger entered you slowly, pushing in deep until finding your sweet spot and curling up.

“Holy shit,” You gasped, “Fuck — Nat please, harder.”

Begging was always a weakness of Natasha’s, and you knew that all too well. With a hungry growl against your throbbing clit, her pace increased as she pounded in and out, sneakily adding in her ring finger before pushing in as deep as possible. She could feel your walls pulsing, knowing she was about to send you over the edge.

Your mouth hung open, unrestrained moans and squeaks falling out with every drag of her hand. Your own fingers were combed and interlaced through her red hair, the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.

As you neared closer and closer to your peak, the hand she held over your stomach pushed down, making her thrusts feel unbearably deep. She moaned against you, her spit coating your nub as she lapped at it. All of her movements were starting to become too much for you to handle, and your breathing got winded and lost as you approached your release. Your orgasm rippled through your body as you dove headfirst into pleasure, eyes screwed shut and static filling your head.

As your body fell limp and the only word you could blabber was a faint “Nat” over and over, Natasha gently released your clit from her mouth, her hand slowing down and pulling out of your fluttering warmth.

Your juices were soaking her fingers, a white creaminess she’s been craving for weeks dripping down her knuckles. Natasha looked down, watching as cum leaked out from your pretty cunt, prideful in knowing she was the reason why.

In a move that almost sent you reeling into another orgasm, she brought her fingers to her mouth, closing her swollen lips right over them to lick up your cum. “I almost forgot how good that little pussy tastes.” Natasha hummed, still sucking any remaining slick off, “How good my little pussy tastes.” She corrected with a smirk.

Your vision was swarming with stars, eyes glossed over from how strong you came. Trembling legs ghosted over Natasha’s sides, heart still pounding but your breath was leveling out.

“Thank you, Natty.” You spoke with a voice so sweet and small it had your girlfriend's lips pulling up in a wide smile and quiet laugh.

Her nails raked over your belly, thumbs caressing your nipples once more. “Don’t thank me just yet, princess. I told you if you were good Mommy would let you have her cunt, remember?” She took in your widening eyes and nodding head, a fresh fire sparking in her core. With careful movements she crawled up your body, hooking a leg over yours and lowering herself down until her pussy rested atop yours.

“You’ve been such a good girl, so Mommy needs to keep her word. Get comfortable, angel. We have all night, and I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

Main Masterlist Here

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #mommy!natasha #natasha smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha fic #marvel #thepsychewrites

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stationintern · 6 months

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author's note

draco/harry G, 1,322 featuring author Draco Malfoy, his unemployed husband, and an interviewer who seems a little too fixated on their gay little life. but that's just the way of fanfiction baby

BY GEORGIE HARKINS

NOVEMBER 17, 2023

“Draco, one of your admirers is here,” was the first thing I heard upon arriving at Draco Black’s modest country home. After being greeted by a luscious, wild front garden and a rather cantankerous tabby, I was met at the door by Black’s husband, who identified me quite correctly.

To say it was a surprise to receive the invite for an informal interview would be an understatement. Black, while well-known and heavily awarded, has never been seen in public, and has asked that I keep my descriptions of him, his family, and his home to a minimum. Though, I will do my best, despite the restrictions, to paint of picture of the man behind some of the most inventive and mature fantasy novels the literature world has seen in quite some time.

A story of the heir to a great name and fortune, caught up in a war steeped in the supremacy of magical people over their non-magical counterparts. The early books paint a picture of childlike wonder, excitement, and naivety, with the threat of what is to come in the later books just around the corner. A devastating struggle between dark and light, with our anti-hero caught up in the shadows, unsure of whether to escape and lose all he holds dear, or stay and sink deeper into the mire. The tale has earned him critical acclaim and household recognition, but, admirably, he’s maintained his privacy, and let his work speak for itself.

The inside of his home–bright, airy, full of greenery–is in sharp contrast to the usually bleak settings of his novels. Decay, both social and physical, has been a key theme across his series of fantasy novels: The Poisoned Heir. Despite this, he surrounds himself with life. We sat down at the kitchen table, where I asked him about this.

“I feel… to write about the breaking down of all we hold dear, we must first appreciate what we have,” Black said, cradling a clay mug of Assam, his preferred brew, “I’ve loved, lost, and rebuilt. We all have. But, to write it on such a grand scale can send me into a sort of… spiral. So, I try to find joy and life in anything I can outside of my work.”

One thing I noticed about Black was the way he seemed to take his time while speaking. I watched him grasp for words from the surrounding air, and told him so.

He laughed, “When I was a boy, I had a quick, sharp tongue. It hasn’t dulled with age, but it’s definitely slowed, and that’s a good thing.”

“A very good thing!” came the voice of his husband from the adjoining living room.

“I’m conducting an interview!” Black called back.

“I’m conducting an interview! ” came the voice again.

“Excuse him.”

“No, no. It’s lovely,” I said, “How long have you two been married?”

His husband is an “unemployed layabout”, in Black’s terms, not mine, whom he met during his days in secondary school. Though they didn’t reconnect until much later in life. He showed me pictures of them together, young and rowdy, casting uneasy glances at each other among friends. Walking down the hallway crowded with photos, I followed their life. From unsure crooked smiles to comfortable family candids, Black claims their love story is one for the ages.

“Twenty years, now. Two children, all grown up.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Isn’t it?” Black replied, looking down into the remains of his tea, pensive, “You know, it was Harry who convinced me to finally publish my novels. I’d thought about it for years, had them all written out.”

“All seven?”

“All seven, just sitting in a drawer!”

“If you hadn’t originally planned on publishing them, then what was the purpose?” I asked.

Seven novels chronicling the tense political schism in a society of magic users, the journey from innocence to awakening, a war to end all wars– sat in a drawer collecting dust. Except, Black said, his children did hear the same story growing up. Though, less polished. I was reminded of a photo I saw in that hallway, of a little blonde girl resting on a younger Black’s knee, reading from what looked to be some sort of parchment.

“It was therapeutic. A… retelling of my entire life in a way that seemed just as all-encompassing as it felt when it was happening. I was raised to have an incredibly skewed moral compass, and as time went on I began to heal, and reframe, but there was always this need to let it out. All of it, every last bit, so I could see it laid out before me.”

“So, you wrote.”

Black nodded, “I wrote. Only then could I truly understand myself and the world around me.”

“Based on what you’ve said, is it correct to assume that the main character is based on yourself?”

“In a sense. I think my biggest fear during the publishing process was that people would not sympathize with Lucien… that they would see his redemption as undeserved, a feeling I’ve carried my whole life.”

Lucien, the anti-hero of the series, received mixed reviews in the press. His many crimes were never glossed over in the books, as the character struggled internally throughout– sometimes excusing himself, other times devolving into self-loathing and punishment. Some critics claimed that the character was too far gone to receive a happy ending, while others lauded Black for his ability to write such a morally dubious character in a way that could be seen as relatable or understandable by the end.

“Did you get the reaction you were hoping for?”

“To this day, I’m still not quite sure. In the end, though, I realized that I didn’t need people to understand or sympathize with him, I just needed them to see him.”

“Well, he’s been seen by over fifty million readers. How does that make you feel?”

“Rather exposed, wouldn’t you think?”

“I would,” I agreed, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to pivot a bit here, into something that may be a bit more personal.”

“Please.”

“You received criticism after the fourth instalment, in which Lucien realizes that he is gay, from both sides of the political spectrum. Some on the right were disappointed in his being gay at all, while the left felt that you were painting queer people in a poor light in an already intense political landscape. What would your response be to these critics?”

Black leaned back in his chair, comically stroking his chin, “I think I’d say… that I don’t fucking care what they think.”

“That’s quite blunt.”

“I’ve never been one for cutting verbal corners. More fictional queer people should be horrible and evil, until they equal the numbers of their real-world, heterosexual counterparts.”

“Well said.”

“Do you have anything else you’d like to ask me? I’m afraid my daughter will be arriving for lunch in just a few minutes.”

I thought about this for a few moments. Did I want to ask him about his current writing process? If we should be expecting a new work anytime soon? Ultimately, I decided on a question I felt would cater to him, as he’d given me this unique opportunity in the first place.

“Is there any specific character based on your husband in the books?”

A laugh resounded from the living room, and Black’s mouth turned up in a shy smile.

“Why, his school rival, of course,” Black replied.

“The one who Lucien beat to a pulp on the Quitchball field?” I replied, admittedly flabbergasted.

“Quite so.”

Harry joined us then in the kitchen, ruffling Black’s hair a bit before picking up the mugs we’d been drinking from, “I’ll have you know, Georgie, that I was the one who did most of the beating. You can go and tell that to the press.”

“Oh, I will,” I promised, and now I have.

if you'd like to say some kind things, or make unintelligible sounds, feel free to check this out over on ao3!

#draco x harry #drarry #drarry fic #drarry shortfic

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hjparisian · 1 year

Text

maroon- harry j potter x reader

loosely based on a lyric from maroon by taylor swift. uses she/her pronouns. reader is not a gryffindor (i know, im sorry fellow gryffindors). bit of a long one whoopsies

"the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon"

It was common knowledge that every time the Gryffindors win a quidditch game, it is follow by a raging party, courtesy of the Weasley twins. Everyone is allowed to come (aside from the Slytherins, but they still manage to sneak their way in).

Despite being friends (and study buddies) with Hermione, (Y/N) never really experience a full on rager in the Gryffindor common room, instead perusing the library for books to help with some essay in potions, until one day.

"Come on (Y/N), just come, just this once," Hermione said. "I can't always be with Ron and Harry. Plus you've never been, after all this time of being my friend."

"I don't know Hermione, I wanted to study for History of Magic. You know how much I struggle in it"

"I know, but you can do it tomorrow! Please, it would be nice to not constantly listen to Ron and Harry talk about the quidditch game for once and to hang out with you outside of the library," Hermione begged.

(Y/N) remained silent for a second. Thinking. It would be nice to hang loose and let the thought of school leave her mind. And Hermione is right, she can always study tomorrow, especially since she already completed her work.

"Alright Hermione, I'll go," she said at last. Hermione let out a grin. "Oh thank you, thank you!" Hermione said. "I gotta go, but I'll see you there (Y/N)."

Towards the evening, (Y/N) stopped in front of the Gryffindor common room. "Password?" the Fat Lady asked.

"Baubles." The portrait swung open and (Y/N) stepped inside, seeing the shift from the silent corridor to the loud and wild atmosphere of the common room. There was people from all different houses having a good time, from people chilling on the couch with firewhiskey on hand to those dance to the beat of the music and letting loose.

(Y/N) quickly finds Hermione on a couch towards the back of the room. "You made it! Thank goodness I thought you were gonna ditch," said Hermione. "Anything for my favorite Gryffindor."

Ron joins in with three red cups, handing two to Hermione and (Y/N). The two stared at the cups, not knowing what it was. Ron answers them, "It's not poison, it's butterbeer mixed with firewhiskey. Fred made them." "Are you sure we should trust anything made by Fred or George?" (Y/N) jokingly says while taking a sip of the drink. "Maybe you're right, but I'll take my chances tonight," Ron said before downing his cup.

(Y/N) spotted some of her house friends waving her over to come dance. She turns to Hermione, asking if she wanted to come dance with her to which she replied "It's alright, I think I'll just stay here with Ron." (Y/N) nods, not willing to force Hermione to join (also letting her have alone time with Ron), and walks towards the crowd of dancing wizards.

One of (Y/N)'s friends takes her hand and starts dancing with her, the two of them laughing at their awkward attempts of dancing. After a while, (Y/N) decides to get another drink to fill her system. She walks up to where Fred was handling the drinks. "Hey Fred, can you give me something good?" Fred chuckled. "First Gryffindor party I've seen you at and you already want to get wasted. But of course, anything for you." He hands you a cup filled firewhiskey. "Thanks Freddie, you're the best."

As (Y/N) turns around with the drink in her hand, she bumps into someone, spilling both her drink and the person's drink on her. She felt her face heating up and looked up ready to yell at the person until she noticed a certain green eyed boy who appear red in the face from embaressment. Who would've thought she would've bumped into Harry?

"I'm- I'm so sorry (Y/N), I didn't mean to bump into you. I should've been looking, I-" (Y/N) cuts him off. "It's fine Harry, I know you didn't mean to. But now my shirt is wet." She was a little upset at the fact she spilled her drink and was wet but she knew Harry wouldn't do that on purpose.

"I can let you borrow one of my sweaters," Harry said. "It's the least I could do after drenching you in butterbeer." (Y/N) thought about it for a second before agreeing, wanting to get out of her soaked shirt. "Alright, since you owe me. Now lead the way."

As Harry led (Y/N) to his dorm, she couldn't help but stare at him. She'd be lying if she said she didn't think he was attractive, cause he certainly was. She always loved how bright and green his eyes looked. And the way he looked when playing quidditch was a wonderful sight. She had a minor crush on him back in second year but since she never acted on it, the feelings went away, though the butterflies in her stomach right now are saying otherwise. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Yeah, let's say it's the alcohol.

Her thoughts are disrupted when they stopped at a door, a plaque on it saying who occupies it, "Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley." Harry opens the door and walks inside, holding it open for (Y/N). She takes her time looking at the room, it looked much different compared to her dorm. In that time she took to gawk at the room, Harry managed to pull a sweater from his trunk.

It was one of his quidditch sweaters. "Here, I hope you don't mind red and yellow." (Y/N) takes it and looks at it. "Thank you Harry but, um-" She starts. "Do you mind turning around for a minute? So I can change." She swore she could see Harry's face start flushing as he spoke, "Oh, uh, er yeah." He turns around giving (Y/N) some sort of privacy while she changes.

"You know, I didn't think you'd be at this party," Harry says. "I've been kinda hoping to see you." (Y/N) freezes for a second. Harry's been wanting to see her? It must be her mind playing tricks. She responds, "Hermione sort of made me. I wasn't really planning on it." She hears Harry hums in response. She continues, "I don't really regret it though. It was kind of nice to have some fun. Saw some of my housemates here."

There was a brief silence between the two before Harry spoke again. "I've always wanted to talk to you (Y/N). Hermione talks about you a lot, did you know that?" She did? (Y/N) wondered. "She talks about how wonderful you are and how you get her. She was happy to find someone that actually read Hogwarts: A History." (Y/N) chuckles a bit. Classic Hermione.

(Y/N) fixes Harry's sweater on her body and clears her throat before speaking, "Well, um, you can turn around now." She watches Harry turn around and sees his eye go wide slightly.

"How do I look?" She asks him. "Brilliant," He breathes out. "You always look brilliant." (Y/N) could feel her face heat up at his words. How is it that Harry could make her feel like this with just a few words?

(Y/N) decides to bite the bullet. If there was anytime to take a chance it would be now. "Can I ask you something?" He nods. "Can I kiss you?" She was scared for his answer. If he rejects her, she hopes that the firewhiskey in her system would let her forget about that moment in the morning. Harry finally answers. "Yes."

They both lean forward, letting their lips touch each other. (Y/N) felt Harry gently grab her waist, she lets her hands hold his shoulders. It felt like dream. Now, if you told second year (Y/N) that she would be kissing Harry Potter in the future, she'd laugh in your face saying it would never happen. Well, take that younger (Y/N).

They parted each others lips, needing air. They took the time to admire each other, how wonderful they looked. "You know, I've always thought you were attractive Harry," (Y/N) said. "And I've admired how you'd do anything for your friends. You're an amazing and courageous person. I like that about you. And I like you Harry."

Harry grinned. "I like you too (Y/N). I've always have." He leans forward to give (Y/N) another brief kiss.

"Can we just stay here? I'm too tired to go back to the party." (Y/N) asked. Harry nods, agreeing with her, also wanting to enjoy this time with her. They lay on Harry's bed, Harry holding her close to him. He kisses her forehead before falling asleep with her.

#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #hjp #harry #harry potter x fem!reader

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 4 months

Note

hello!

so i had a thought/request thing: prussia x reader sound of music au?

Oh I absolutely LOVE that thought!

I took a little creative license in this fic (which I will elaborate on in the after-notes), but ultimately I directly referenced some of my favorite scenes from the film.

Thank you for sending me the ask, and I hope you enjoy!

The children were finally asleep.

A spring storm had rolled in- a welcome relief to the dry heat which had plagued the city for several long days- but the thunder had troubled them.

You were hardly surprised when first a timid Ludvig came to your room, followed only moments later by Monika. It took a few more claps of thunder and flickering lights for Friedrich to appear, claiming with false bravado that he had come to make sure that you were safe.

You had distracted them from their fears, though some- such as the loud protests which continued with each passing day, the strange men seen lurking outside the house, and the current absence of their guardian- Some fears couldn't be assuaged.

But children were easy enough to sway from their dark thoughts, and you always had a gift for embellishing the truth.

This time, you chose not to rely on the ditty you had taught them several weeks prior (though you could hear Ludvig repeating 'whiskers on kittens' to himself), but instead crafted a tale of heroism about their big brother, one that soon worked its magic, all three falling asleep by the time the storm had settled into gentle rainfall, curled together atop your blankets.

Unfortunately, their restless energy had passed onto you, and after several moments of staring at the ceiling, you carefully, quietly, slipped out from beneath the covers, tugging on a nearby robe, and sliding on a pair of slippers before making your way to the library.

Time passed without your knowledge; you had found an old disc of American singers to play on the gramophone, and quickly tucked yourself into a novella that had caught your interest several days prior. It was a pleasant distraction, almost successful in keeping your frazzled thoughts from running wild.

Had his work run late? Had there been an accident? Had one of those radicals done something that was meant to look like an accident? Had-

The distant, sudden sound of the front door closing had you glancing towards the grandfather clock, that flicker of worry sparking to life once more as you noted the lateness of the hour.

His work often brought with it long hours, but this, even by his standards, was alarming.

You were relieved to hear his footsteps, and knew you must content yourself with the knowledge that he had at least made it home safely. He had, after all, made it perfectly clear some time ago that his welfare was none of your concern.

In vain, you tried to return to your book, but to your chagrin the combination of the gramophone's crackling, the tapping of raindrops on the windowpanes, and the nearing, shuffling footsteps kept you from falling back into the story. You feigned interest however as a familiar figure entered the doorway.

For a moment, he said nothing, silently studying you. You were hyper-aware of his gaze, were certain he could hear the panicked rush of your heartbeat, could see the heat dancing on your cheeks.

Finally, he spoke, your given name tumbling out almost as a sigh, and to your embarrassment it caused you to jump, startled by its presence in your already frenzied state.

You turned to face him directly, seeing his hand hanging uselessly in the air, looking for everything like a guilty schoolboy. In another circumstance, you could have laughed, seeing the normally rigid Captain so timid and unsure of himself. "Sorry! Sorry, I..." His words trailed off, the hand falling back to his side, all emotion gone from his features once more. "May I join you?"

No, you wanted to say, I'm not sure I could trust myself if you stay.

But your voice was welcoming him in, and you straightened your posture as he took the chair opposite you.

You tried once more to feign interest in your book, but your eyes kept straying from the page, unable to stop yourself from studying his features in the warm light, taken in by the vulnerability, small as it was, he was granting you, clearly beyond weary.

Your curiosity could no longer be helped. "Are you well, Herr Beilschmidt?"

A small smile flickered to life, half-formed and fragile, those peculiar scarlet eyes finding yours, your name once more slipping past his lips. "I thought we agreed you would call me Gilbert when we were alone?"

For a moment, he was no longer a Captain, not Herr Beilschmidt, but any other man, a man who could even become-

But that could not be, and you wouldn't allow your fantasies to jeopardize your work, couldn't bear the thought of being parted from the children. "I agreed to no such thing, Herr Beilschmidt."

He released a pained sort of sound, reminiscent of a scoff, and it prompted just enough of your ire for you to press onward with your curiosity. "You were out late this evening."

You couldn't fully conceal your concern, and it was clear that he had detected it, those eyes somber once more, studious and strategic.

Fearful of what he may find, you spoke once more, hiding the inconvenient truth with another, sweeter one. "The children missed you at dinner."

His study lingered, lips parting as if he were going to speak, before he dismissed it, a sadness surrounded him in its absence. "How were they today?"

This was neutral territory, familiar ground, and you breathed a silent sigh of relief. You began a retelling of the day's adventures, embellishing your words with a whimsy that had often earned you others' disdain. But G- Herr Beilschmidt- was amused, laughing at your failed attempt to mimic Friedrich's angered voice at Monika for daring to stick a frog in his pocket.

"And Luddy?"

Your smile softened at thoughts of the youngest Beilschmidt. "A dear as always. He insisted upon baking a cake with me earlier." The words triggered another memory, a more urgent one, and you rose with a suddenness that caused him to jump. "Pardon me; I forgot that we saved a slice for you! Excuse me for a moment?"

You didn't wait for his reply, already sweeping towards the open doorway, forgetting in your rush to grab a candle, the electric having gone down several hours ago.

The corridor loomed before you, quiet and filled with the darkness of the midnight hour. In the face of that alien light, your footsteps faltered, suddenly uncertain of a path you had tread dozens of times.

A warm presence appeared at your side, a gentle hand pressing to your lower back, as he fell into step beside you, carrying one of the candles. "Allow me?"

Your skin burned beneath the weight of his hand, memories of the party several nights before now dancing to the surface at his nearness.

How you wished you could turn him away now, but fear of the ghosts still haunting these ancients halls and nameless monsters lurking in the shadows far overpowered your fears of revealing your heart.

Slowly, quietly, you charted the course to the kitchen, and you were grateful to finally be able to step away, allowing yourself a moment to breathe, reign in your traitorous thoughts.

The ghost of his touch still remained however, and you busied yourself with pulling the cake from the ice box, pleasantly surprised to discover some remaining cream as well.

He had taken a seat at the small table often used by the house staff, several more candles lit in front of him. You were surprised to see he had pulled out two forks, standing and gesturing to the empty chair beside him. "Please; join me."

You should have taken your leave.

You should have made your excuses and retired for the evening.

But there was something so hopeful in his expression, and you couldn't resist the sway he held over you.

For a time, there were no words shared between you, the only sound the symphony of the falling rain, the distant notes of the gramophone, and the irregularity of silver tines clinking against porcelain.

"We should discuss what happened at the party."

His voice was unexpected, words hanging in the air with a tension you were loathe to acknowledge.

There was nothing to discuss, not to your mind.

He was betrothed to another, and he was your employer.

It could never be anything more, even if you should so desperately wish for it.

Still, you would always have those memories, safely locked away into your heart: Monika sighing, fondly watching the sparkling couples gliding across the ballroom floor, Ludvig pestering you with questions about the musicians, and Friedrich earnestly trying to master the Allemande with you, before Gilbert was unexpectedly cutting in, offering the children a brief history lesson even as he fell perfectly into step, words soon falling away, sparkling burgundy eyes locking with your own.

With each step, you felt your fragile defenses weakening, was certain he was drawing you nearer with every turn. Each clasp of hands sent a spark through your pulse, every point of contact buzzing with restless energy. As you took your final turn in a dance meant for four, you were met with a warm smile which stole the little breath you had left, and you were drowning in a wine-dark sea.

The spell was broken with Julchen's applause, surprise to see her home from university enough to distract the others, though Gilbert was slow to release your hand, lingering, before he finally drifted over to join his younger siblings.

You couldn't fathom why he should wish to discuss the ordeal now of all times, though to say it hadn't been on your mind, replaying in your thoughts for the past several weeks, would be a lie.

"You hired me to watch over your brothers and sisters, and I care for them dearly."

Your focus remained on the chocolate crumbs remaining on the plate, dark flecks against the otherwise pristine, pastel pink petals.

Even as he spoke your name once more, you did not turn to him, unable to face him. "Only the children?"

"No," you admitted, before you recognized your slip and quickly tried to rectify it. "Yes!" Trying to redirect his thoughts, you interrupted him before he could speak. "Isn't it right that I should care for them?"

You finally turned to him, praying your mask would hold, even as you once again found yourself the subject of his scrutiny. He was bewildered, clearly not expecting this turn.

"Of course it's right."

You saw another opening, one that could perhaps save you from his suspicions. "You invited me into your home, and I am grateful to you. I'll miss them very much when you and the Baroness-"

Oh, you couldn't even speak it, for goodness sake!

But this excuse was convenient, a simple shroud, disguising your feelings behind the implication that your true worries were being parted from the children, that you only dreaded his betrothed becoming his wife because-

You could face him no longer, your attention once more drawn back to the scene in front of you, candlelight dancing in refractions on the cutlery.

He let out a stray sound of bemusement, your given name yet again slipping from his lips in a fond murmur. "There isn't going to be a baroness."

Your attention flickered back to him almost immediately, disbelieving and concerned. "There isn't?"

"No," he hummed. There was a slant to his brow, a twist to his features which puzzled you.

"I don't understand."

His focus shifted away from you, a small smile once more flickering to life, not fading away this time but lingering, its lightness echoing in his voice. "We've called off our engagement-"

"Oh, I'm sorry," you whispered sincerely, not meaning to interrupt, but he was stunned nonetheless.

"You are?"

You nodded, unwilling to trust your voice in this moment.

His smile softened to something unreadable then, something which made your heart melt. "We both agreed that, well..." He suddenly was looking away from you, bashful in a way you didn't recognize, taking a steadying breath before he seemingly found the courage to face you once more, though his words were barely a whisper. "You can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else."

At first, you were unable to comprehend his words, desperate for confirmation. "Surely you don't mean-?"

His hand found yours, gentle and insistent. "I do. I've come to love you in a way... quite unexpected. And I," he paused, his eyes seeking your own with a tremulous yearning, one which carried in his words. "Is it foolish for me to hope that you love me, too?"

You thought back to the journey which had led you here: the arguments, the compromises, the love growing ever stronger with each passing day. This house had been a cold tomb when you had first arrived, specters haunting every square meter.

But now it was your home.

The children were your home.

Gilbert was your home.

He was still waiting for your answer, both despondent and eager, and you finally allowed your mask to fall away, smiling as you raised your free hand to gently cup his cheek, your vision hazing through tears.

It was uncertain who moved first, but the kiss was all you could hope it to be: gentle, loving, with an added sweetness from the lingering tastes of cake and cream.

He sighed as you slowly drew away, the candlelight dancing in his eyes, a bright smile creasing his features.

You had made many mistakes in this life, taken many missteps, but to be blessed with this life, to find such love and a place to call home?

Somewhere along the way, you must have done something good.

One of the most notable changes was directly adjusting Gil's role compared to Captain von Trapp's. The Sound of Music carries an inherent antifascist message, which allowed me to explore more of my belief that Gilbert was a Prussian Social Democrat, a member of one of the most influential political parties directly challenging the rising fascist ideals of the growing Nazi Party. Several assassination attempts were made on members of the Social Democrats, before, ultimately, tragically, their work against the Nazi Party was overruled by vote.

I opted to keep Gil as a big brother instead of a father; I cherish the relationship they have already, and the thought of them not only losing a parent, but watching their beloved, bright brother fade away into someone they barely know- It was too good.

I spent quite sometime trying to finding a traditional German couple's dance, and even the Allemande, from the Baroque period, was intended for a group of four.

I wish this could have been longer, but at over 2000 words already. I am content.

Thank you again for the ask, and thank you so much to everyone for reading!

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