#*will graham voice* this is my escape

[not-another-leon-blog]

Bodyguard

RE4! Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary- You're Ashley's bodyguard. And the one Leon finds in the church instead. Word Count: 2086 Masterlist

Your leg bounced nervously, eyes trained on the hard stone floor beneath you. You’d lose your job for sure, you thought. It was supposed to be simple and had been for the past few years.

Protect Ashley Graham.

And yet here you were. Locked in an old church somewhere in Spain and with Ashley nowhere in sight. Occasionally, someone would wander into the church downstairs and you heard incoherent muttering. But almost as quickly as they came, they left and slammed the heavy door closed behind them.

Your mind was scrambled with ways to get out. You couldn’t jump out the window. The drop was so high you’d certainly break something or get a bitch of a sprained ankle if you were lucky. And the thick wood door was locked tight. You’d attempted to kick it down earlier but hadn’t made so much as a dent in it.

So you were left to wait. For whom or what, you didn’t know. All you knew was that whenever that door opened next, you’d need to act quickly. Either overpower them and run, or kill them and run. But no matter what, you needed to make sure that you escaped this room and found Ashley.

But where would they take her? Perhaps you could start with the village. And if she wasn’t there… well, you’d figure something out. Even if you died trying, you couldn’t leave this place without her.

You heard the church doors creak open again and froze, straining your ears to hear if anyone was coming. But something felt off. Usually, the door swung open so quickly that it slammed into the wall. This time it had opened slowly, cautiously.

You stood up and brought your ear against the door. Nothing but a muffled voice. Just barely, could you make out the footsteps coming closer.

Quickly, you pressed yourself against the wall and grabbed the nearest weapon you could find. You frowned at the candelabra you'd snatched but it would have to do.

The door creaked open and you held your breath. First, you saw the muzzle of a gun, then muscular arms and broad shoulders. Whoever this was, he was significantly bigger than you. You'd need to act fast.

You creeped out from behind the door as he moved further into the room. With the door wide open, maybe you could just make a run for it.

No. You couldn't have him chasing after you. The last thing you needed was to get yourself caught just moments after freeing yourself. Either you'd knock him out, or kill him.

Creaaak

Shit.

He whipped around, gun aimed at your chest. You swung the candelabra, knocking the gun out of his hands. You swung again, only for him to catch it and rip it from your hands, tossing it aside. The air was knocked from your lungs as you were thrown to the floor, your shoulders pinned to the floor by his knees. The cool blade of a knife pressed against your throat as you glared up at him.

You lay there panting. There was no point in struggling against him– there was no way for you to throw him off. He was too big and too strong.

Disappointment washed over you like a tidal wave. The one chance you had to break free and find Ashley and you blew it. Still, you wouldn’t cower away from death. No matter how hard your heart beats against your chest. You’d stare him down and make him watch the life leave your eyes.

Blue eyes glared down at you and you braced yourself for the moment he’d slide his blade across your neck.

But it never came.

Instead, he leaned back and sheathed his knife at his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get off you,” he said slowly. “Don’t try to take my head off with a candle stick again.”

“Who are you?” you demanded, watching him with narrow eyes. Why didn’t he go in for the kill?

The man climbed off of you and got to his feet, offering you his hand to help you up. “I'm Leon,” he said. “I was sent on the president’s orders to get you and Ashley home safe.”

You stared at him for a moment, eying his hand suspiciously. Taking his hand, you let him haul you to your feet.

“You're a little young for a bodyguard, aren't you?” He asked, though there was no malice in his voice. 

You scoffed. “Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?”

His brows furrowed then he chuckled lightly. “Touché.” He reached for one of the pistols holstered at his hip and held it out to you. “I'm assuming you can use this?” A nod. “Good. I can get you extracted-”

“No,” you said immediately. “Not without Ashley.”

He nodded. “I’m gonna find her-”

“Then I’m going with you.” You stepped up to him, your eyes hard and your tone unwavering. “You and I both know POTUS doesn’t give a shit about what happens to me.” You were certain that you were already presumed dead back in the States. “Your chances are better with backup and you’ll have an easier time getting Ashley to trust you if I’m there.”

Leon wanted to argue, but it wasn’t like you didn’t bring up some good points. Ashley was most likely terrified and having a friendly face to help ground and guide her would be best. 

“Fine,” he bit out. “But you’ll do as I say.” As much as he didn’t want to risk your blood on his hands, he found that he didn’t want to be alone in this any longer than he had to be, especially given the hell he went through just to find you. There was no doubt in his mind that Ashley would be much more heavily guarded than you were.

“Fair enough.” You trailed after him and out of the small room. The church was quiet save for your footsteps echoing off the walls. He was about to start down a rusty ladder when something flickered in the corner of your eye. You stopped in your tracks, a hand on his shoulder. “We might have company.”

Leon cursed and crossed to the tall windows. There on the other side of the cemetery was a crowd of villagers, pitchforks and torches ready.

“They don’t look very friendly,” you commented beside him. 

“They’re not here for a campout, that’s for sure–”

A sharp sting in your temple nearly brought you to your knees. A voice whispered in your head. Though your eyes were squeezed shut, you saw the faint figure of a man wrapped in a purple cloak.

“The lost lambs are escaping,” the voice said. “Bring unto them salvation.”

As quickly as it started, the pain was gone and a loud BANG drew your attention downstairs. It was only a matter of time before the villagers found you up here. Before you could even think about putting together an escape plan, Leon was on the move.

He ushered you over close to the wall and knelt down. Above him was another ladder leading to the attic. Without a second thought, you scurried over and carefully climbed up on his shoulders, your hands braced on the wall in front of you for balance as Leon slowly stood up. Reaching for the ledge above, you pulled yourself up and kicked the ladder down for Leon.

A lone window offered the promise of escape. One glance down had your eyes wide. It was at least a ten-foot drop to a small wood platform below.

“Afraid of heights?” Leon asked as he came up beside you and examined the drop. There was no time to reply when he dropped himself down to the platform. He looked back up at you expectantly. “I can catch you.”

Taking a breath, you all but threw yourself out of the window. Your stomach dropped as the ground rushed to meet you, only to be stopped by Leon’s waiting arms. Not that you saw anything with your eyes screwed shut.

You met Leon’s gaze and your breath caught, a blush dusting your cheeks. For a brief moment, the world fell away, returning only when the sound of smashed glass met your ears.

“Leon?” You started. “You can put me down now.”

He blinked. “Right, uh, yeah.” He set you down and jumped to the ground, mud splashing beneath his feet. You dropped down behind him as he reached for his ear, likely communicating with his handler. “Roost, this is Condor One. I have Shadow Eagle, but no Baby Eagle.” He led you around the side of the church, listening carefully to whatever instructions were being given. “Copy that. Condor One out.”

“What’s the word?” You asked, trailing behind him to a small hallway. You watched him push a fallen bookshelf aside, eyes caught on how his arms flexed.

“I heard talk of someone being taken to that castle nearby,” he said quietly as the two of you reached the other side of the hallway. “Chances are it’s Ashley.”

You paused. “Then what made you come here?” Why not go straight to the castle?

He hesitated and glanced back at you. “That talk included two people and two locations. Can’t be too sure, right?”

~~

When Louis had mentioned two people being carted off, Leon was sure that he’d find your body instead of nearly having his head taken off because you swung a candelabra at him. Even Hunnigan sounded surprised when he reported that he found you alive and kicking.

“What can you remember?” He asked as the two of you picked your way through the village.

“Not much,” you admitted. You reloaded your gun and pulled a boot knife from the body in front of you. With your jaw set and a glare, it was clear how much you blamed yourself. There had to be a thousand different thoughts running through your head. “I just remember leaving campus with Ashley and car trouble and then from there… nothing until I woke up getting dragged to that church.”

His eyes scanned over you, pausing when you rubbed your neck like something had bit you. “Everything okay?”

“It’s probably nothing,” you assured him. “I think that’s how they knocked me out.”

Leon stepped closer and gently moved your hand from your neck. There were two small punctures in your skin; one that had knocked you out and another that he suspected was used to inject you with whatever he had been injected with. 

“That voice from earlier,” you began, “did you hear it, too?”

“Yeah.” He continued through the empty village with you close behind. “The sooner we find Ashley, the better. You sure you don’t want that evac?”

You shook your head. “She was my responsibility. I’m with you until I’m dead or we find her.”

Well, he admired your resolve. There would be no persuading you and honestly, he only asked so you didn’t feel like you had to keep going. He wouldn’t have faulted you if you did choose to leave.

~~

The bell tower that had stood tall in the village now lay in a pile of rubble blocking the way forward. No matter, he’d simply lead you through the house that survived the explosion. He pushed open the wood door and started to the stairs, wood creaking beneath his feet.

Your eyes scanned the house. It appeared empty and you suspected that Leon had already had a nasty encounter here. There were at least three bodies down on the first floor riddled with bullets.

“Not the homey type I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, they really rolled out the red car–” A man pounced on Leon, pinning him to the wall and forcing his gun out of his hand. With no clean shot, you dashed up the remaining steps and wrenched the man off of him, throwing him to the floor and driving your knife into his temple. He lay lifelessly beneath you and pulled the knife with a sickening squelch.

You turned to see Leon staring in surprise. “What?” You asked, sheathing your knife. “You’re not the only trained killer here.” It wasn’t something you were proud of but it was a necessary part of your life.

Leon snapped out of his trance. “No, no you did good, uh, just can’t say I’m used to having a partner.”

“Better get used to it then.” You picked up his gun and handed it to him. “Because you’re stuck with me until fate says otherwise.”

[hxxsxxng]

JAKE 심재윤 - BOYFRIEND’S BEST FRIEND

MINORS DNI

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: SMUT with hella plot

Content: Degradation, Unprotected Sex, Infidelity, Fingering, Oral f recieving, Choking, Pet Names. Cursing, jake is overall just mean and rough lmao

Preview: Longing for your boyfriend’s best friend turns into something more at a friend get together.

Authors Note: I just poured my heart and soul into this, I will not want to miss reading this I promise.

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

Wonnie was all I could ever ask for. My heart overflows with adoration for my sweet boy. Every moment spent with him is a cherished blessing that makes me wonder what I did to deserve someone like him. The way his eyes sparkle when he smiles at me melts my heart into a puddle. His tender embrace wraps me in the warmth and comfort of pure love. Even the little things he does, like surprising me with my favorite snack or sending a caring text to check on me, speak volumes about how thoughtful and caring he is. With him by my side, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Jake was different. The ache in my heart has become unbearable as I find myself helplessly torn between the man I love and his best friend. My boyfriend is the kindest, most caring soul, and the depths of my adoration for him are endless. Yet I can't deny the magnetic pull I feel towards Jake - the lingering gazes, the electrifying brushes of arms, the undeniable chemistry. It's utterly confusing and heartbreaking. I'm overwhelmed by guilt for even allowing these treacherous thoughts to enter my mind. But the heart wants what it wants, doesn't it? I'm paralyzed by the fear of losing the amazing man I've loved for so long, while also being haunted by the "what ifs" with his best friend. Turmoil rages within me as I pathetically attempt to navigate this excruciating inner conflict. Whichever path I choose, I'll be forced to inflict devastation on someone who matters immensely, and I don't want that.

It was a gorgeous summer evening and we were all gathered at Heeseung's place for a bonfire. Jungwon threw his arm casually around me as we took our seats around the crackling flames. I leaned into him, inhaling his comfortingly familiar scent, but my eyes kept getting pulled towards Jake.

Jungwon's best friend since childhood, Jake was stretched out on the grass, shirt discarded and those sculpted abs on full display. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the flickering shadows dancing across his tanned skin. Our gazes met briefly and an electric current shot through my body at the smoldering intensity in his stare before he looked away.

Feeling enough guilt to drown in, I snuggled closer to Jungwon, resting my head on his shoulder. He pressed a tender kiss to my hair and I clung to him tightly, trying to push the intrusive thoughts about Jake from my mind. But it was impossible to ignore the way my pulse quickened whenever Jakes deep chuckle burst through the night air.

"Hey babe, let's make some s'mores," Jungwon murmured in my ear, his fingers stroking my arm. I forced myself to smile at him adoringly. "Sure, that sounds perfect."

We gathered the graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows, letting our hands linger a little too long as we fed each other the gooey treats. All the while, I could feel Jakes eyes burning into me from across the flames. The tension was excruciating, suffocating. I wanted to curl up and cease to exist just to escape this torment.

As the night wore on, I nestled against Wonnie's side, trying my utmost to be the perfectly content girlfriend. But I was haunted by the deepening ache I felt for his best friend.

At one point, Jake rose to toss another log on the fire and my breath hitched as his toned back muscles flexed with the movement. Our eyes locked and the world seemed to stop spinning for a heart-pounding moment before Jungwon's voice snapped me back to reality.

"You want another beer, babe?" Jungwon asked, stroking my cheek affectionately.

"Sure, thanks," I murmured, tearing my gaze away from Jake with immense effort.

As Jake sauntered past to grab a new drink, my fingers ached to reach out and trace the contours of his sun-kissed skin. The mere thought made me feel faint with longing and disgust at my own disloyalty.

When Jake returned to his spot, I glanced at him over the rim of my bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the neck as he took lingering pulls from his beer made my mouth go dry. Jake caught me staring and arched one eyebrow before slowly dragging his tongue along his lower lip. An indecent shiver raced through me.

"You okay?" Jungwon's concerned voice dragged me back to reality again. "You seem...distracted tonight."

"I'm fine, babe. Just a little tired" I lied, forcing a reassuring smile as I snaked my arms around his neck and pulled his face down to mine for a lingering kiss.

Despite my desperate longing for Jake, seeing the pained look on Jungwon's face when he announced he was leaving shattered my heart into pieces. I couldn't bear to be the one causing such anguish to the sweet, caring man who had loved me so devotedly for years.

"Wait, Jake!" I called out on impulse, pulling away from Jungwon's embrace. Jake paused and turned back towards me slowly, hope in his expression.

Up close, the intensity sizzling between us was overwhelming. I could see the muscles in Jake's chiseled jaw twitching as he clenched it tightly. His eyes roamed hungrily over my face and figure before locking onto mine with a look that scorched me to my core.

"Don't go," I whispered, my voice trembling as I took an unconscious step closer to him. The air itself seemed to crackle with electricity. "Jungwon needs you here" I begged.

He quietly scoffs and comes back to set his stuff back down onto his unofficially assigned patch of grass. Jake jerked his head ever so slightly, signaling for me to follow him inside the house. My heart pounding, I hesitated for only a split second before rising to my feet. Jungwon's brow furrowed in confusion as he reached for my hand, but I gently shook my head.

"I...I'm going to run to the restroom," I murmured shakily, unable to meet Jungwon's caring gaze.

Jake turned on his heel and headed inside without another word or backward glance. I numbly trailed after him, throwing one last remorseful look at Jungwon's face over my shoulder, blowing a kiss.

The kitchen was dark and quiet when I entered. Before I could call out Jake's name, his powerful arms encircled me from behind. He crushed me back against the rigid wall of his chest as his nose trailed searing kisses along the sensitive skin below my ear.

"Jake...we can't..." I whimpered in protest, even as my treacherous body arched back against him instinctively.

"Shh," he husked, his hot breath washing over my neck and sending delicious shivers through me. "You know how long I've wanted this...how long I've wanted you."

All rational thought flew out the window as Jake's large hands roamed possessively over my body. I bit back a moan, feeling utterly intoxicated by his earthy, masculine scent overtaking me.

"Not here, we can't do this here."

Jake led me away from the kitchen and prying eyes, his large hand firmly gripping mine as we made our way down the hallway. The dimly lit hallway seemed to pulse with tension and forbidden desire. My heart was pounding so forcefully I could scarcely hear anything else.

He paused outside what I recognized as Heeseung's guest bedroom, turning to face me fully. In the shadows, his chiseled features were set in an expression of anguished longing as his molten gaze bored into me.

"I can't keep doing this," Jake rasped hoarsely, reaching up to cradle my face in his calloused palms. "Being around you but not being able to have you is tearing me apart."

I opened my mouth but I was rendered speechless as he leaned in closer, our lips a mere whisper apart.

"Tell me to stop," he said thickly. "Tell me to walk away right now and I'll respect your decision. But (Y/N)...if we cross this line there's no going back."

My breath came in ragged pants as I searched his blazing eyes desperately. I knew if I didn't end this right now, I would surely shatter Jungwon's heart into oblivion. But the magnetic pull to Jake was wildly intoxicating and impossible to resist.

So instead of uttering the words to save us both, I fisted my hands in Jake's chest and crushed my lips to his in a searing, breathless kiss. He let out a groan, instantly returning the embrace with bruising intensity as he walked me backwards into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.

Our lips did not part once as we made our way to the bed, trying hard not to step on anything. He layed me down gently, resting his hand under my head. His tongue exploring my mouth was something I have wanted for so long.

Jake tasted faintly of the beer he'd been drinking, but with an underlying sweetness that was just him. I inhaled his familiar scent surrounding me. The smell and taste of Jake on my senses was intoxicating.

When he sucked my lower lip into his mouth, a breathy moan escaped my throat. Jake's hand slid up under my shirt, caressing the bare skin of my lower back. I arched against him at his smoldering touch.

I lost all sense of time and place, consumed entirely by the passion of Jake's insistent kisses and wandering hands. I never wanted this feeling of blissful oblivion to end.

I could feel his cock slowly growing the longer our lips stayed together, putting pressure on my pussy. I could already feel the tension building up.

My hands explored the ridges of Jake's back muscles as our kisses became even more hungry and frantic. I ground shamelessly against him, craving friction.

Jake's scorching lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access. When his teeth grazed that sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet, I cried out in pleasure.

"Jake, please..." I heard myself beg breathlessly between his searing kisses. I ached for him with an intensity I'd never experienced before. My entire body was on fire, every nerve ending acutely sensitized to Jake's expert touch.

"Please what" he teased, making me use my words.

"Please touch me"

He slowly grinds his clothed cock over the mid seam of my shorts, making my legs tense up. "I've barely started sweetheart" he smirks. He tugs at the bottom of my shirt, signaling that he wants it off now. I lift my hands above my head as he slides it off, exposing my bare breasts since I was not wearing a bra.

He instantly grabs one of them and puts my hard nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one with his thumb and pointer. His tongue swirls around as I lay there, unable to formulate any words.

His free hand trails slowly down my stomach, past the waist band of my shorts. He fingers slip into my panties and onto my pussy, spreading the collected wetness all around clit and moved his fingers in soft circles. He slides his fingers between my folds as I grip his hair tightly, as a sign to show him how well he is doing.

He pulls his mouth away from my chest and wraps his fingers inside my waist band. I straighten my legs and he pulls my shorts straight off, taking my panties with it.

"You look so much better than I imagined" the words fell from his lips.

I lean up to unbuckle his belt, his hard cock begging to be released. I throw the belt to the side and unzip his pants. His sick springs out. It is a lot thicker than I imagined, veins peeking up the sides to his tip, with precum collected at the top.

"So big, I don't know if I will be able to take it" I teased.

"I will make you take it." he corrected.

His sudden change in demeanor made me even more wet. Jungwon was always soft and gentle, which is fine. But I want to be thrown around and used.

He leans back down with his head between my thighs. His tongue prances across my clit and in my hole. He switched between sucking and kissing my clit passionately. He slid two of his fingers into my pussy, curving them up for my maximum pleasure.

"You taste so sweet, I could do this for hours" he said with lust reflecting in his eyes. All I could do was moan at the sight of my boyfriends best friend between my legs.

I grip his hair a little harder and tense my legs, signaling that I am getting closer. "Jake... I-I'm about to" I say with a trembling voice. He takes his fingers out and pulls his head away. I let out a huge breath at the sudden emptiness and the feeling of cold air hit my clit.

"Not yet" he said sternly.

He grabs his member and strokes it a few times before gliding it across my wet folds. "Do you want me to grab a condom?" He asked. "No, I want to feel you"

He smirks "That's my good girl" he says before sliding it in, moving slowly for me to adjust to the brand new size. He goes all the way in and waits for me to get comfortable. I wince at the pain a little but as soon as I told him to keep going, all of the pain turned into pleasure in an instant.

He strokes in and out while concealing his lower lip behind his top teeth.

  "God baby you're so wet, all for me" he growled in my ear.

He took out his member and rubbed it against my clit. Little whimpers escaped my mouth. He put my leg down and grabbed both of my hips and realigned himself, practically wasting no to whatsoever. He rammed himself into me without a warning, making me gasp.

"Yeah that's right, take it like the whore you are" he says angrily. His hand trails up my body and snakes around my throat, not tight enough for me to not breathe, but definitely tight enough for my eyes to roll to the back of my head.

"It f-feels so good, Jakey" I said naturally. Using my hips for stability, he pushed himself in and out of me at a faster pace. The scent of sex filled the room as well as the sound of our skin slapping against each other. He were hardly able to keep his moans back. He leaned down to my ear to make sure I could hear him, and nibbled on my ear to tease me.

       "You hear that, that's what you do to me. getting me all needy like this." he whispered. I couldn't even form a response, all I could say was "R-right there."

He sped up the pace, sending chills up and down my spine.

       "Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock like that. It fits so perfectly, like you belong to me, you're my cockslut " He praised. I whimpered. His mind went fuzzy at the feeling of my pussy sucking him back in every time he pulls out.

     He flipped me over on my stomach, making me go up on all fours. He slapped my ass so hard it left a huge red hand print, stinging with pain. He slides his cock back into me at an ungodly pace.

    " I have been wanting this for so. fucking. long" he pleaded, matching his stroke pace with his words. I mumble out a "me too" before he grabs a hand full of my hair and slams my face into the mattress.

He gets closer to my ear and says" I know, you are such a whore, practically begging for my cock deep inside you when you already have a boy friend"

I clench when his words hit my ears."But he would never be able to fuck you like I do, would he?" he says rhetorically. I still answer "No he couldn't, daddy" I say with the sheets muffling my voice. My eyes are leaving wet spots on the bed from how much pleasure he is giving me. I moan out loudly "Harder please"

"That's what I thought, bitch" he says, going in harder and repeatedly hitting my sweet spot.

I can feel his cock start to twitch inside of my as I can feel the knot in my stomach about to snap. "Jakey, I'm about to c-cum" I cry out.

"Me too baby" he groans loudly, releasing his seed inside of me. Painting my gummy walls white with his warm liquid. I can feel it dripping out of my cunt after he pulls it out.

We are both panting as we try to catch out breaths. He flips me back over and gives me a kiss before grabbing a rag from the guest bathroom. "You did so well for me, baby"

"Let's get you cleaned up, princess" and says. He wipes off the sheets as well me and himself. We put out clothes back on quickly and the throws the rag into the trash.

We rushed our way down the hallway and tried to act like nothing happened. By the time we made our way back out to the bonfire, Jungwon knew something was suspicious.

"What the fuck Jake" Jungwon yells, getting up from his seat.

"What" Jake said confused

"If you are going to go behind my back and fuck my girl, atleast try to be less obvious about it."

After the initial shock and confrontation, Jake and I knew we had to try to make things right with Jungwon. We begged for his forgiveness, coming up with a flimsy excuse in hopes he would understand.

"Jungwon, please, you have to listen to us," Jake pleaded as we caught up with him outside. "It was just a stupid drunken mistake. We weren't thinking clearly."

Jungwon whirled around, eyes blazing with hurt and fury. "A mistake? You slept with my girlfriend behind my back! With me here!"

I grabbed his arm, tears streaming down my face. "I'm so sorry, Jungwon. You have to believe me, it meant nothing. We were just wasted and got carried away."

"Yeah, one minute we were joking around, and the next...well, you know," Jake said, unable to meet Jungwon's gaze.

Jungwon shook his head in disbelief. "That's no excuse! You took advantage of the situation. You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I know, I know," Jake replied miserably. "I have no idea what I was thinking. The alcohol just brought out the worst in me. It'll never happen again."

I nodded fervently. "Jungwon, you have to understand how incredibly sorry I am. What Jake and I did was unforgivable. But you mean everything to me."

"I trusted you both more than anyone," Jungwon said, pure devastation in his voice.

"We know," I replied through choked sobs. "And we'll spend forever trying to make it up to you if you'll give us another chance. Please Jungwon, I love you so much."

Jake joined in pleading. "I cherish your friendship more than anything, man. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness."

Jungwon just stared at us, face hardening. "I don't know if I can get past this. You need to give me some space."

Though his words crushed me, I knew Jungwon had every right to feel that way. Jake and I had shattered his world with our reckless actions. All we could do was beg forgiveness and pray that someday, somehow, he could find it in his heart to forgive us.

[endlessthxxghts]

Babes you already know. Smutttaaaay!!! Let’s go with Frankie, and I would really love for you to include a food item. Not saying it HAS to be caramel, but like, also not saying that. 😉 ILY and I am SO FREAKING PROUD OF YOU. You write your bootay off and feed us all. You deserve it!

Please accept 1,000 kiths from me to you. 💋💖

Comfortable

Frankie Morales x afab!reader Can be read as a standalone or in association with Liquid Gold.

Summary: Frankie helps fulfill your craving for s'mores. SMUT 18+ MDNI: food play (melted chocolate), slight soft dom!Frankie, neck kissing/hickeys, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, cumming untouched.

A/N: @katiexpunk, MY LOVE, I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU SO MUCH. I'M GIVING YOU 1,000 KISSES RIGHT BACK. I'm also giving you 1,000 (maybe slightly more… but I won’t tell if u don’t🤐) smutty words right back. 💋💋

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

It wasn’t often you craved s’mores, but when you did—God, did you need them immediately. Frankie knew right away there was no battling you on this even though you two were in the middle of cuddle time, so with a kiss to your forehead, he told you he’d set up the bonfire while you dressed into something more warm. 

Padding to your room, you change into your usual bonfire outfit—a two-sizes too big sweatshirt paired with your favorite flannel pajama pants—then you make the trek to your backyard to Frankie basking in the orange glow of the flame, all the s’more ingredients placed on the chair beside him. 

He smiles at you, opening his legs further, patting his lap. You make your way to him, and with his hands on your hips, he turns you around to face the fire, settling you to sit on the inside of his thigh. 

“I’ll have mine after yours, baby, get your fix first,” Frankie tells you, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he places a fluffy marshmallow on the skewer.

“Okay, baby,” you beam, turning your body more to face the fire—your ass directly on his crotch at the change in position. Frankie nearly chokes on his spit.

After a few more seconds, you’re sitting back up, the friction against him enough for a breathy groan to escape his lips. “Done! Ready for the assembly, baby, can you-” 

Only then do you take him in, your eyes meeting his pained expression. “Baby- are- are you okay? Am I hurting you? I could pull up another chair-”

You move to get up, one hand still holding the skewer slightly over the fire as you look back to Frankie behind you, but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you atop of him. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t- You’re- you’re not hurting me,” he tells you. 

“Are you sure? Really, if this isn’t comfortable-”

Frankie sits up a little straighter, a little taller now, his face closer to yours. He stops your rambling again. “Querida, does it feel like I’m uncomfortable?” He asks, voice an octave lower. 

As soon as the question leaves his lips, you realize how hard he feels beneath you. You realize then, too, that his gaze isn’t pained. No, it’s aroused. Your heart skips a beat, a tiny squeak of an oh escapes you. “No, I guess- I guess not,” you whisper. 

Suddenly, Frankie’s clearing his throat, trying to erase his dirty mind to help you satisfy your s’more craving. He reaches to the seat beside him, grabbing the graham cracker rectangle and breaking it in half, laying a piece of already semi-melted chocolate onto the cracker before he sandwiches the marshmallow, squishing it tightly so you can pull the skewer out. 

Setting the skewer down, you grab the s’more from him, taking your first bite. As you relish the pleasure hitting your taste buds, Frankie’s hands are on a mission, settling on the insides of your thighs and pushing them open, guiding each of your legs to sit on the outside of his. He doesn’t go further yet, just sits there rubbing on your thighs as you eat. 

Halfway through your dessert, you feel his hand start to make its way higher, his large hand cupping the entirety of your mound through your pants, his tongue licking a stripe up your neck. 

“Frankie,” you whimper, pausing your work on your s’more. 

“Shh, just-” he breathes, rubbing your clothed pussy in a slow, circular motion as he speaks. “Just finish your s’more, baby, don’t mind me.” 

You can’t help the way your hips thrust into his hand, your body already hotter than the fire burning not even 3 feet away from you. “Please,” you cry again. 

“Finish it, baby, I’ll give you what you want when you do,” he breathes. You can feel his cock twitch underneath your ass, only spurring you on more. 

Utterly distracted, you didn’t realize just how tight you’re squeezing the poor sandwich, so a big glob of melted chocolate plops right on your face—from your bottom lip down to your chin. 

A frustrated huff of disappointment leaves you, turning your head to Frankie with a pout. “Baby, my chocolate,” you whine. 

His free hand glides up your body, settling on the base of your neck, his long finger nudging your chin to look at him. “Mírame,” look at me, he rasps, his tongue coming out to lick up the chocolate on your chin, bringing himself all the way up to your lips, pulling you in for a sloppy, chocolatey clash of mouth. The last bite of your s’more now forgotten as it falls to the floor, you reach to grab onto the wrist of the hand that’s rubbing you while your other hand plants itself in his messy curls, keeping him flush against your lips as you both swallow each other's desperations. 

He breaks away, sucking and releasing your bottom lip with a pop as he goes. “So damn sweet, querida,” he moans into you, bringing his mouth back down to your throat, biting and sucking as his fingers make their way inside your pants, passing your clit to lather his fingers in your slick before he comes back up and continues his slippery assault all over your pulsing bud.

“Oh, sh- shit-” you squeal, your hips thrusting wildly against him, the pleasure overtaking every inch of your body. A particular nip to the sweet spot of your neck has you reeling, Frankie taking that moment of weakness to slide his two fingers inside of you easily, the feeling of a stretch prevalent but all too consuming to register as any kind of pain. 

“Fuck, baby-” his deep voice grumbles into your neck. “Feel so good wrapped around my fingers like this, honey, oh, fuck-” 

His own hips start to move, his length rubbing against the swell of your ass, his own pleasure starting to cloud his brain. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees the chocolate beside him, apparently a bit too close to the fire because it’s now a melty gooey mess in its wrapper. Way too addicted to a sweet mess with you, he can’t stop his free hand from reaching over to the chocolate, and squeezing the melted sweetness, spilling all over your neck—his tongue immediately laps it up as you moan and writhe on top of him. 

“Yes- yes, Frankie, please, m-more,” you sob, your breathing as erratic as your hummingbird of a heart. 

“Yeah? My sweet baby wants more?” He asks, biting the lobe of your ear. “Where do you want it? Here?” He licks your neck. “Or you want it here?” His finger makes its way to your mouth, tapping on your bottom lip, your mouth immediately opening to allow him entrance. 

A whimper leaves your throat as his finger finds itself on your tongue. “Oh, sweet girl,” he breathes, his hand slipping away from your mouth momentarily. 

You were expecting him to bring the chocolate to your mouth, but instead you’re met with two of his fingers—completely covered in chocolate, all for you to lap up. “Just want something in that pretty little mouth of yours, huh, cariño? I got you, sweet girl, open up for me,” he whispers, his long fingers already hitting the back of your throat, your eyes rolling back at the sweet, full sensation in your mouth. 

You’re quite literally rendered speechless now, pornographic squeals and moans unrelenting as he continues to keep your mouth and pussy full. A familiar tingle at the base of your spine flickers, growing brighter and brighter as his release approaches. 

Your whimpers grow more desperate as your pussy flutters around his digits—he knows you're close. “Alright, baby, alright, baby, come on now,” he coos, his fingers leaving your mouth, your lips and chin covered in your overproduction of saliva. He puts his own fingers into his mouth now, drinking you in but also making sure all the chocolate is gone, he now brings those fingers down to your sex, rubbing on your clit as his other hand continues to fuck you towards your high. 

Turning your head to him, your tongues meet first, hints of sweet cocoa mixed with a flavor that’s all Frankie—your orgasm hits you hard, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you grind yourself against his lap, his hand and your pants completely soaked in your arousal. He moans with you, his hips shaking against your own as a slight warmth floods your lower back. 

Fuck. He just came. 

You both come to a halt, sitting in your own messes for a minute to let your hearts sync to a slower beat. You pull his hand from your pants, bringing his finger up to your mouth and sucking it clean. You can hear a low groan from the back of his throat. You turn to him. “Sweet,” you say. “Wanna try?” You ask with a smirk. 

“Cheeky,” he mutters, bringing his fingers up to his own mouth, licking your spend clean. 

Too caught up in each other’s embrace, you forgot to tend to the fire, now just a pile of barely glowing wood, a shiver racks your body—particularly your drenched, lower body. 

“Are you sure you’re still comfortable like this?” You repeat your sentiment from earlier, a hint of amusement laced in your voice. 

“Yeah, no, baby, I think we should go inside and clean up,” he says, kissing your temple. His hand makes its way down, cupping your sex once more. “Still haven’t had my dessert yet.” 

You shoot up from your place in his lap, pulling him up and hastily making your way to the bathroom. “Let’s get going, then, baby, I don’t wanna keep you waiting,” you say, mischief written all over your face.

End note: God, someone lock me in a room with Frankie and a bunch of messy foods, please and thanks. Katie, baby, I hope this does our food play delulus justice. Many sloppy kisses for u. Thank you everyone again for being on this journey with me, for supporting me, for interacting with me. I know I say it a lot, but truly, there are no words to describe my endless amount of gratitude I have for you all. Thank you. More requests were sent in!! Keep on the lookout for those!! Please do let me know what you guys think, too!! I love hearing what you guys think about these lil stories :-)

[so-mordor-itis]

Black and Blue, Still Singing For You

Inspired by @scariusaquarius 's series Unlikely Salvation (Go check them out pls-) I hope you guys enjoy! I actually felt pain writing this...mmmm pining

“To be careful with people and with words was a rare and beautiful thing.” -Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Benjamin Alire Saenz (@leonskillshot ;) )

I.

The cold air of the lab brushed over your neck. You held back the urge to shiver as you passed through the mechanical doors, clipboard in one hand, coffee cup in another. This would be another long day, but at least you wouldn’t be bothered by anyone else–the lab was yours and only yours. You wouldn’t have to deal with judgmental looks or scowls from your peers as you jotted down notes on your latest subject.

“Having a rough day already?”

Said subject’s voice echoed from his glass chamber. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, a tired expression on his face as he attempted to greet you. His cheeks and rims around his own eyes were crowded with black streaks from the Plaga parasite in his chest. The whites of his eyes a milky yellow color, his pupils–which were once a radiant, icy blue–now a dull grey. Leon was sitting on the ground of his (you honestly would have called it a prison cell at this point) chamber, his legs criss-crossed as he patiently awaited whatever you needed him for. Your heart ached with pity every time you saw him now, but you couldn’t allow it to show. Leon didn’t want to see it.

You sighed, scanning over the papers you were given just an hour prior. “You know how it is. The higher-ups just love working me to the bone.”

“Oh yes,” Leon huffed a laugh. “They make you think you’re free, but suddenly you find a 500-page document on your desk the next day.”

“Mhm, story of my life,” you replied. Squinting at a string of sentences. Experiments were placed on hold for a week after realizing just how tender the parasite was. A single cut through it would sever Leon’s nervous system and kill him instantly. You didn’t want that, and the people in the chairs higher up certainly didn’t want their weapon to perish under odd circumstances. It was a risky situation all around. One you desperately wished was in someone else’s hands. Leon Kennedy was an asset, not just to the DSO, but to the President. Anything going wrong, from him dying due to the Plaga, or to him going absolutely feral and escaping, would lead to your job being thrown out the window. Or worse, you could die in his hands, and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him.

A year ago, he was sent to Spain to retrieve President Graham’s daughter, who had been kidnapped. She was taken by a cult, one that worshiped a parasite they had discovered underground. A lot of the details were classified, and for some odd reason, you were given only a handful. Ashley Graham had been injected with the same parasite, but thankfully, he was able to get it removed before it evolved into the next stage. Leon, having been dealt the same card, wasn’t so lucky. He wanted hers removed first, placing her safety above his. Just as the parasite was about to be removed from his own chest, it evolved. Apparently, according to the Las Plagas files, Leon maintained his humanity somehow. Perhaps his will was too strong. Or he was just too stubborn.

Either way, your nerves were calmer, knowing he was somewhat in control of himself.

“What’s on the schedule today?” He asked you. He was trying to sound bored, but a part of his sentence felt wary. You didn’t blame him. You wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic to be poked and prodded with knives and injections. “I’m guessing more parasite testing.”

“Actually, you just got a new treatment,” you told him, now facing his direction. “Gonna try a new type of medicine.”

Leon blinked in surprise. “Will it work?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” You tried to give him a hopeful smile, but knowing how resistant the parasite was to other treatments, you didn’t want to give him any false aspiration. “That’s not until later, so you get to keep your superpowers for now.”

“Yes, because that’s so exciting,” he drawled, crossing his arms. “Get to be friends with the little fucker in my chest some more.”

You snorted. “Other than that, I’m just here to take notes,” you groaned a little at the idea. “Again.”

“You get to keep me company for a little while longer, huh?”

“Yep, lucky for you.”

You turned around in your chair to get started before hearing his voice again. “I’m glad it’s you, today.”

You bit back a smile. “Like my company?”

“More than you think.”

I.5

The treatment proved to be fatal. Leon had coughed up blood as it was injected into his veins. The parasite wiggled in his chest, moving his ribcage back and forth as it fought against him. You stopped the medication right away, sighing with defeat.

“Sorry, Agent Kennedy, I guess you’ll have to hang in there longer.”

“Not your fault,” he said, wiping the blood from his mouth. You wished you were allowed to give him a tissue. “And you’ve known me long enough that you don’t need to be so formal. Just call me Leon.”

II.

You had met Leon a few times before all of this happened. Moreso just passing by him in the main office while delivering notes and progress reports. Despite his rugged exterior, he was charming. He had asked you if you’d like to join him for dinner once, but you had to decline due to a project you were assigned to then. Part of you worried he would be upset, but he was immediately understanding.

Fate was truly an evil mistress.

It was an awful feeling, not being able to actually interact with him. You felt as if you were watching a hamster in a cage. He slept, ate, breathed, did everything in that glass chamber, and all you could do was observe. It made you feel as if you were a part of the problem, part of the reason he was trapped in there, part of the reason he wouldn’t be able to smell fresh air again. Wouldn’t be able to feel another’s touch.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice interrupted your thoughts. He was standing now, leaning against the back wall, perhaps occupied with thoughts of his own.

You shook your head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Well, considering you’re the person who has to be here, watching me, noting down my behavior, I can’t help but worry it is about me.”

“Actually, it’s not.” You paused, thinking if what you were about to say next was wise. “For once.”

“Am I on your mind a lot or is it the Plaga moving around?” He’s teasing you now, and you honestly appreciated the distraction.

“You know, I was gonna compliment you but now I’m just gonna ignore you.”

“Ow. Harsh.”

“You started it.”

You turned your back to him and you can’t help but wonder if he’s pouting. You wanted to know what he was thinking, if he also appreciated a distraction from what future experiments he would be subjected to.

“You don’t have to eat lunch here, you know.”

“Well, technically, I do.”

“No, I mean in front of me.” Leon scowled a little as he casted his glance at your food. “It’s rude, honestly.” He wasn’t actually upset, jealous maybe, but not angry.

“You can’t eat normal food anymore anyway.” You brushed him off.

Leon sighed. “I know, but still. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it.”

You felt a little terrible. “I’m sorry. I guess I felt like I…actually nevermind.” You stopped the words from flowing, but you didn’t stop his curious gaze.

“What? You can’t say that and just expect me to ignore it.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Just say it. Can’t be more stupid than half the shit I’ve said to you the past few months.”

“Half of that was you high on pain meds.”

“It still applies.”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. “I felt like I owed you a date.”

“Owed me a date?” He echoed.

“You asked me to dinner at least a few times, and I couldn’t say yes to any of them.”

Leon blinked, realization slowly clouding his expression. “Oh. Well, if you think this is equivalent to a date…I’m a bit worried about how low your bar goes.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to remove yourself from the spot on the floor. Your legs had started to cramp anyway.

“Hey, wait,” he said. You tilted your head in confusion.

“I didn’t say I wanted you to leave.”

You gaped at him, heart fluttering in your chest. You glanced at the office clock, your lunch break ended in five minutes. This was so stupid, getting close to your subject simply because he was a man you once knew, once thought you had a small crush on.

Though you supposed sometimes the most unwise idea was the best one.

You sat back down and somehow he no longer looked miserable.

III.

You had been transferred to another lab, away from him. You knew this would inevitably happen, not even for personal reasons, but simply because they needed you in a different department. Yet, part of you couldn’t help but believe it was because you started treating Leon more as a human than as what your co-workers saw him as: a test subject that needed to be tested. Needed to be worked on, carved into their image.

Four months went by before you finally saw him again.

You were informed by your superior that they finally found a treatment that made the parasite lose its grip on his system, but they still wanted to keep him in that chamber. To watch. To observe. To keep him as their little guinea pig. All you had to do was keep watch for the final time. You had the best notes, after all. Had known him the best before this all blew up and caused such a ruckus.

Leon looked almost the same as the last time you saw him. The black lines on his face and hands had slowly faded, but the ones on his chest and biceps still lingered. The medication was working, but slowly. Once he saw your face, his eyes lit up, his heart monitor beeped a little faster and you couldn’t help but find that endearing.

“Been wondering where you’ve been,” he commented. You could tell he didn’t want to say he missed you, but you knew him well enough to know the undertones of his words. Leon wasn’t the best at communicating, but his actions always spoke louder. “They transfer you out of state?”

“Something like that,” you approached the glass, not wanting to admit he was more handsome now. His face was less sickly and his eyes were no longer sunken into his skull. His cheekbones were more defined. He was getting better. “I hope they didn’t treat you too poorly while I was gone.”

Leon shrugged. “I mean it was the same, besides hearing your voice every other day.” His eyes met yours now and you felt your heart flutter again. “I kinda missed your stupid jokes.”

“Oh, my jokes are stupid?”

“Very.”

“Have you heard the words that come out of your mouth?”

Leon laughed a little and suddenly the room felt brighter.

“Well, lucky for you, you get to hear me all day.” You said, poking the glass as if you were trying to poke him.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze not wavering away from yours. “Lucky me. You still owe me another date.”

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. He only smiled again and you peel yourself away from the glass to sit in that all familiar office chair, and the all too familiar feeling of Leon’s gaze was once again glued to your back.

You wondered how long it would be until you could actually tell him you hated the way he made you feel. If you ever could.

If there would ever be a timeline where you two could actually go on a date, and he could kiss you the way you wanted him to.

~

Tags:

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

[its-vannah]

Surprise | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

A/N: This easily became one of my favorites I've ever written. Hope you all enjoy it 💕

Warnings: Please scroll down to the bottom of the fic as it contains heavy spoilers

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Eddie paced around your apartment, waving his hands in the air while he rattled on about Billy's treatment of him during one of their latest concerts.

The two of them weren't exactly cordial to each other, with one usually down the others throat, but you understood how Eddie felt. He had finally gotten the chance to have a minute in the spotlight while Daisy sang—and Billy ripped the opportunity out of his hands.

As soon as he got back from the tour, he went straight home to vent to you about it.

"I mean, who the fuck does he think he is?" Eddie exclaimed, his slapping his sides, "If he's not the center of attention, then he's not happy!"

He rambled on, "And his whole obsession with Daisy? Don't get me started. They don't even let us write for the albums—at all. You know, Graham wrote a song. A fucking great song. And you know what Billy said?"

"What did he say?" You hummed.

"He said no, we don't want your damn song on the album because it's not your job to write the songs."

You tilted your head to the side, "Verbatim?"

"Well, no, but that's what he meant," Eddie groaned, bracing himself against one of the barstools in the kitchen, "He's got a stick permanently shoved up his ass."

You got up from your spot on the couch and walked to stand behind him. Once your fingers found his shoulders, you began moving them in circles to loosen up the tension in his upper body.

He relaxed a bit, leaning into your touch.

"Eddie, I'm sorry that happened at the concert," You said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade, "Next time, stand your ground. Tell him if it's been decided you'll go out there, then you're going to go. To hell with what he thinks. It's not just his band, it's all of yours."

A sigh escaped his lips as he nodded, "It feels like shit being on his bad side. He always wants to be in control."

"Then let him," You said as he turned to face you, "It'll catch up with him eventually."

Eddie pressed his lips to your temple, wrapping his arms around you, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I was a dick when I got home," He explained, "Didn't even ask how my girl's day was."

Your hand moved to cup his cheek, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb, "It's okay, Ed, you had a shitty day with Billy. You know I'm here if you need someone to talk to. You should, anyway, I'm your wife."

Your teasing tone caused a slight smile to appear on his face as he leaned in to kiss you—properly, as he said, this time.

He pulled away not long after, "So, how were you while I was gone?"

"About that," You said, taking a step back towards the living room to grab something from beneath the side table, "I have a surprise for you."

"For me?" He questioned, confusion washing over his face before he raised his eyebrows, "I mean, if you're in the mood, I am. How long has it been? Since the day before the tour?"

Playfully glaring back at Eddie, you picked the small box up and carried it over to him, "Put your hands out

"I feel like a kid all over again," He admitted as he stuck his hands out, "Don't tell me I have to close my eyes."

"You don't."

"Is it a pony?" He teased, causing you to laugh in response.

You shrugged, "Let's just hope I got the right kind."

He held the box in his hands, confused as to what it could be.

"Open it."

He undid the ribbon, sliding it off the box before lifting the lid. The bassist was left with more tissue paper, something he was never fond of.

Once he lifted back the layers and saw the contents, his eyes widened.

Inside was a pair of little baby boots and a small guitar pick. Unlike some of his bandmates who would've stared at it wondering what it meant until they had to be told, it clicked in his head right away.

In a small, soft voice, his eyes met yours, "You're pregnant?"

You nodded as he set the box down on the coffee table, gently taking you in his arms and weaving his hands through your hair, pressing your head to his chest.

"God, I'm gonna be a dad."

Smiling into his chest, you inhaled the lingerinf scent of his cologne, "The best."

The two of you stood there for a while, living in the world you had created on your own. In that moment, there was no Billy, no band, and no way in hell anything could ever tear you away from eachother.

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

Warnings: Pregnancy, marriage, Billy Dunne SLANDER

[sinfulslytherin]

New eternity.

Warning: sexual content

Summary: Draco lets you sleep over after your arranged husband treats you like shit.

I close the bathroom door behind me as I re-enter Dracos room.

The blonde boy already placed himself under the blanket of his huge king sized bed.

I can see the upper part of his toned chest peek out from underneath the sheets.

I don't realize my stare until Draco points it out.

"This could be all yours, Amara." Draco exclaims with a smug smirk and a sarcastic voice, clearly mocking me for staring.

"You mean your annoying ass? No thank you." I smirk while making my way over to the bed.

I make myself comfortable as I slip under the sheets.

As I move my legs, I feel something warm against my toes as I hear a shriek.

My eyes quickly wander over to Draco.

"What the hell, Amara! Keep your freezing feet on your side of the bed."

The blonde boy complains.

A grin plasters on my face as I take my opportunity to tease him a bit.

I scoot closer to him in a swift move as my legs touch his.

Again.

"You are such a child!-Sto-" Draco starts to complain again and tries to build some distance between us

but is quickly interrupted by another cold touch of mine.

Loud laughs escape my from my lips.

"Aww, are you going to cry?-Do I see some tear-"

I am the one who gets interrupted this time. Draco throws himself on top of me and grabs my arms and pins them down.

The grin that was plastered on my face only a few seconds ago vanishes completly.

I look up and stare into his cold, grey eyes.

Draco stares right back at me.

Not saying a word.

His eyes wander down to my lips and further down to my thighs, which got exposed as soon as we started moving more and more, pushing the blanket away from us.

The silence eats me up alive before he finally opens his mouth.

"You seem pretty happy for a girl who is entangled in a fake, forced and abusive marriage."

His eyes never leave mine.

"Maybe that's because I'm with you." I blurt out my feelings.

His eyes slightly widen but he tries to hide his suprise.

Did I just confess that he makes me happy?

Wait-

Does he make me happy?

My mind wanders off to the thoughts of Draco defending me against Graham earlier.

Draco saying that he cares.

I have the feeling that I might have a chance to heal when I am by his side.

The therapy session in my brain is interrupted by Dracos voice.

"It's so hard to tell sometimes."

I look up at him, visibly confused.

"To tell what?" I ask.

"To tell what's going on inside that little head of yours." Draco says as he uses his index finger to tip on my forehead.

I smile softly.

"A lot."

"Tell me."

"That would take an eternity."

"I'd spend my eternity with you."

We both fall silent.

Dracos eyes wander down to my lips.

Back up to my eyes.

And then my lips again.

He suddenly crashes his lips on mine.

He kisses me as his left hand rests on my waist and the other one is on my cheek.

His tounge enters my mouth after I gladly accept it.

His tounge fights for dominance.

And wins.

As always.

His right hand leaves my cheek and slowly makes his way to my clothed breasts.

"May I?" Whispers Draco against my lips.

I lightly push him off of me as I sit back up. Draco looks visibly confused, probably scared that he might have done something wrong.

I suddenly take my shirt off in a swift motion, leaving me in nothing more than the boxers that Draco gave me. Dracos eyes widen and I can see him turn red.

"Yes. You may." I say as I look him in the eyes.

His eyes darken as he suddenly pushes me back down and kisses me.

"You are so fucking perfect." Draco suddenly says in betweens the kisses.

His face wanders down to my breast.

He teases me by licking my nipple lightly.

Small moans start to leave my lips.

He suddenly starts to suck on my nipple, pushing me into a whimpering state.

"Fuck...you're so beatiful. Who is my beautifuly slut, hm?"  Draco suddenly asks, instantly creating a throbbing feeling between my legs.

"I-I am..." I try to answer.

He pushes himself up again as he makes his way even further down.

His fingertips reach the boxers as he looks up at me.

I nod, signaling him my permission.

He takes off the thin fabric, leaving me completly naked now.

He looks at me one last time before I can feel his lips on my inner thighs.

He kiss es his way up.

He keeps on kissing, teasing the living shit out of me.

"D-Draco-"

"I'ts Sir."  He says as he suddenly bites my inner thigh

"Sir...stop t-teasing." I moan out due to the pain.

Draco actually listens and he suddenly sucks on my clit. His tounge moving against my sex gives me a feeling of being drunk, eventhough I am clearly sober.

The euphoric feeling doesn't stop and more moans slip out of my mouth as my craving for his touch rises up inside of me.

I can feel him pushing his tounge inside.

"Fuck me..." I suddenly moan out.

Draco stops in his tracks, clearly suprised by my words.

His eyes meet mine and he seems to search for any kind of uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Yes. I want you inside of me...please." I moan, craving his touch.

"Fuck.." Draco growls as he suddenly pulls down his boxers...

Read the rest here~

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

Mrs. Fell (Smut)

Summary: you've been living with Hannibal in Florence under the identity of Mrs. Fell. Although you missed Will dearly, the energy between the psychiatrist and you begin to unfold in different — and intriguing — paths.

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x reader, Will Graham x reader (mentioned)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence and, obviously, sex. 

English is not my first language, if you see any mistake, let me know!

Word Count: 2280

You jolted upwards on your bed, sweat soaking the silk linens and the black nightgown you wore.

Another nightmare. They were becoming quite common these days. 

You sighed, allowing your body to lie back down, the mattress springs squeaking annoyingly. With unnecessary roughness, you covered your mouth with your hand, trying to suppress your hopeless cries so they wouldn't wake Hannibal up. Even though he was in another room, the walls had ears. You knew he would hear you somehow. He always did. 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. God, how you missed Will. His touch and soft voice would be exactly what you needed to soothe you, his words of assurance guaranteeing you everything was alright and nothing would harm you, for he wouldn't allow it. 

But things ended up slipping out of his control, didn't they? You weren't with him anymore, under his golden protection. You were with Hannibal Lecter in a fancy house in Florence, Italy. Being held hostage, as much as he would disagree. Kept as a pet, an amusement. A consolation prize. Spoils of war. 

Without your control, your mind spiralled to the night Hannibal took you as advantage in his escape, disembowelling Will cowardly and threatening to kill him if you wouldn't come with him. His last fraction of torture, you remember thinking to yourself while you both rode the motorcycle under those heavy drops of rain that washed all your tears away.

You also remembered how kindly he wiped your tears without saying a word, for he knew nothing he would say would be enough. You were in that position because of him, after all. You had begged him to let you stay, to talk to Will, but he wouldn't have none of it. The flight to Italy was bittersweet, since you had never flown before, the sky being ignorantly astonishing to your pain. 

You still felt the ghost of Will's bloodied kiss before you left him. His breathless sobs still echoed in your ears, clenching your heart painfully. You never were religious, but you remember praying he would survive the wound, so you could be reunited again and forget all about the goddamn FBI, Jack Crawford and Hannibal Lecter. 

You both could live in a small cottage by the sea, fish, swim and sail all day long, raise a few babies of your own. Little boys and girls with dark hair and y/e/c eyes running around the beach, laughing joyfully with nothing to worry about. 

That reality seemed distant, however, at least at the moment. You would linger in the shadows of Lydia Fell, your new identity, until it was safe enough to come to light again.

Time travelled fast while you pretended to be the wife of the renowned Dr. Fell. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and you could feel the energy between you and Hannibal shift mysteriously. It was surprisingly easy to be Mrs. Fell, attending to parties, little soirees vanity allowed Hannibal to arrange. He would pamper you with pretty dresses, fancy food and barbiturates, making days easier to endure, afternoons fun and evenings interesting, filled with culture and knowledge you never got tired of soaking like a sponge. Whenever the memory of Will became too unbearable, you would pop a pill and drink a glass of Bâtard-Montrachet, dancing to old elegant tunes; your head feeling hazy and heavy until you finally gave up and went to bed. 

His bed, after a while. It was more convenient to pretend integrally to be Mrs. Fell. It wasn't so bad, after all, you hated sleeping all alone. Hannibal's presence made you feel safer, and he was ever most respectful towards you. It didn't take long for you to realize the longing stare to his hands when he cooked, or the way his back flexed when he sliced something thick. Started as innocent glances; until you finally acknowledged the lust rising at the bottom of your abdomen with the silliest of things, like when he played the piano, or talked about the paintings and sculptures of the house you were both staying in. 

You couldn't deny how appealing the man was, with his charms, intelligence and sophistication. How easy it was for him to entangle Will and you into his web of lies and sadistic games. You were a mere fly, trapped, waiting — and sometimes even longing — to be devoured.

"Hair up or down?" You inquired with a sly smile, grabbing a fist of your hair and pulling it up while you looked at the mirror, watching Hannibal fix his cufflinks. He directed his attention to you and your exposed neck, and you noticed how his eyes darkened, making your insides twist. 

In silence, he walked towards you, lowering the straps of your red dress a little bit to expose your shoulders, pulling out of his pocket a beautiful golden necklace with rubies the size of berries. You choked a gasp, covering your mouth while he tied the astonishing piece around your neck, allowing his fingers to gently caress the skin.

"Up. It will bring out your eyes even more with the necklace. Allow me." He took a few bobby pins and started to work on your hair with surprising skill, letting a few strands loose to shape your face perfectly. 

"Is there anything you don't know how to do?" You teased, chuckling slightly while you stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful, and at the same time an entire different person. 

"Yes." His eyes lingered on you with a subtle glow that didn't last long. "You're wearing the perfume I gave you."

"I am."

"It suits you."

"In what way, Hannibal?" You turned to face him with a capricious move, eying him from below. 

"It's elegant and discreet, yes. However, it possesses a hidden flame that only the most skilled men are able to capture."

"And you're one of those men, I suppose."

"Would you say so, Y/n?" 

You hesitated, chewing your lip with anticipation. 

"That was very psychiatrist of you, Dr. Lecter. Directing the thought to me."

"Old habits never die, I suppose. You are avoiding the question, Y/n." He stepped closer, lifting your chin with his index, caressing it with his thumb. "Would you say so?"

You licked your lips and he followed the movement with his eyes.

"Hannibal… I'm Will's. My heart will always belong to him." You tried to push away his hand but he held your chin harder, keeping you in place.

"I've given you every single opportunity to flee over the past few months, Y/n. And yet, you remain here with me. You should face the inevitable" he knelt in front of you, his hands traveling through your thighs, lifting your dress. "You enjoy being Mrs. Lecter more than you would like to acknowledge."

You sighed, allowing your head to drop back, longing to be touched. 

"Mrs. Fell." You corrected, eyes closed. "I am Mrs. Fell."

He lifted one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder while lifting your dress up, a guttural moan escaping his throat once he realized you were bare under it. The soft touch of his tongue in your core was enough to drive you mad, grabbing his locks while he delighted himself with your taste. You whimpered, moaning his name under your breath, biting your lip so hard you felt your front teeth penetrate the flesh, the copper taste of blood invading your tongue. 

Hannibal could smell it, lifting his eyes quickly like a predator, rising only to lick the small trickle that stained your chin. You were surprised with how much that aroused you; he hesitated, staring at your mouth with hungry eyes, and you wondered if he was asking for permission. You granted it with pulling him closer, kissing him with passion, tasting more parts of yourself on his tongue that you could fathom. He held you by your ass, lifting you up with ease while you wrapped your legs around his hips without breaking the kiss. You felt the soft touch of the mattress against your back and the silk linens, focusing on how good Hannibal's hands felt as they explored your body, rough and experienced touches that certainly would leave a few bruises tomorrow. 

He got slightly impatient, then, ripping your dress and exposing your breasts, your nipples hard with the stimulation. You gasped with the abrupt move, raising your arms to cover yourself instinctively, but he held your hands against the mattress with no avail. 

"I liked that dress!" You protested, trying to hide how nervous you were, the feeling of doing something wrong spreading adrenaline over your entire being. 

"Perhaps I should buy you another one, then" Hannibal said while starting to undress, throwing his vests on the ground. "I have the feeling you were never touched the way you truly desire, Y/n."

That single line caused you to paralyze like a doe on headlights, your wide eyes staring at him with disbelief. He was right; you hadn't been with many men in your life, and the longest relationship you had was with Will. He was never too much interested in sex, though, and on the times you actually did it, he touched you like one would handle a fine china. With care and tenderness, as if he feared to break you. It wasn't bad at all, he made love to you every single time, always so intense and intimate that you felt like you would break in tears sometimes. 

Hannibal was right. You were never fucked properly because you never had been with a man who cared about your true desires. Moreover, it wasn't Will's fault that you never showed him your dark inclinations, he had a twisted view of perfection when it came to you. The only light in his life, the only unchangeable good. Being held in that place was exhausting and you had never realized how full of it you were until Hannibal's statement. 

"Tell me what you want, Y/n." He commanded. You blinked away images of Will to the bottom of your conscience, embracing your desire and acting on it.

"I want you inside me," you pleaded, using your elbows to support you while you stared at his remarkable body. "Take me, Hannibal."

A convinced smirk illustrated his lips, his pupils so dilated his eyes were completely black. He crawled over you, nibbling on your neck and earlobe while his hips nested on yours, fitting in perfectly as if you both were built to the purpose by gods. He entered you without a warning, causing you to sink your nails into the skin of his back. He sighed, the feeling of your walls clenching to accommodate him being too good to be true. You spread your legs, allowing him to reach deeper, a state of bliss pouring over you. It was wrong, but it felt so right. You moved your hips in perfect synchrony, one of his hands grabbing your neck, keeping you in place without actually hurting. He used his thumb to caress your bottom lip and you took the opportunity to suck on his finger, the salty taste tickling the tip of your tongue. 

That caused him to fasten his movements without care, a light ache joining your pleasure. The wet sound of his thrusts, your moans and his groans echoed through the bedroom like an unholy symphony, the scent of sex and sweat starting to fill the air. The tip of his cock touched a critical point inside you repeatedly, and you could feel the tension start to build up at the bottom of your abdomen, arching your back while he grabbed your hair, pulling your head to the side to sink his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, near your collarbone. That sent sparks along your spine, and you sucked the air through your teeth, your nails descending the skin of his back and drawing blood. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you felt pleasure wash over you, release becoming almost unbearable. It was as if Hannibal knew all your buttons, where to touch you, exactly what to do to bring you to the edge of the abyss. And you jumped without hesitation, his breath fastening till a moan escaped his lips and he filled you with his cum, his body trembling in silent ecstasy. 

He didn't leave you right away, enjoying the warm and wet feeling of your cunt for a few more moments before he finally pulled out, trying to stabilize his breathing. You stared at the ceiling with glassy eyes and ajar lips, feeling his cum dripping out of you. Without a word, Hannibal picked you up in his arms with a surprising tenderness, taking you to the bathroom and preparing a hot bath. 

Ah, Will. Forgive me. What have I done? Was the thought that echoed in your mind repeatedly, realization towering over you with an iced shadow. You tried to catch a glimpse of the sun under months of a lonely dark night, but ended up being severely burned. As Icarus flew too close and had his wings melted, you fell to your doom, beyond salvation, beyond forgiveness. You were stained for life; Will would never look at you the same way. 

"Y/n." Hannibal stared at you with his chocolate irises, proceeding to wash your hair, removing the bobby pins himself had placed over your locks earlier. You felt weirdly numb, dissociative, like your body wasn't your own anymore. 

"Lydia" you corrected in a tired whisper, a demented little smile playing in your lips. "My name is Lydia Fell."

[reasonsmandy]

You matter to me

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @itzajeanspears — Hi!!! Love your writing so much!! Not sure if you’re still doing requests lol, butttt I have a really specific one so if you’d be able to do this I’d like actually die omg. Okay so I’m a fashion student from LA and I was thinking, the reader is like basically siblings with billy and Graham, (her dad and their mom started dating when they were kids so they were practically raised together) but she’s closest with Eddie in particular. They’re best friends. They’ve basically been attached at the hip since they were kids. They’re both secretly harboring feelings for each other and everyone knows it but themselves. She’s been there for them since the band started, like Camilla, making them outfits for gigs and stuff. and Eddie even takes her to prom when her date ends up being a jerk to her. Butttt the reader ends up moving to LA to go to fashion school (maybe eventually she can be their costume designer for the aurora tour 🙏) and Eddie slowly stops talking to her god knows why. Fast forward- The band moves out to LA and they stay with her until they’re stable enough to be out on their own. The tension is super high between her and Eddie and EVERYONE notices. Super Angsty. Ends in fluff and love confessions 🫶 maybe angry billy lol. AGAIN THANK YOU!!! I know that was super complicated. YOUR WRITING AND EDITS ARE AMAZINGGGG !!

✧.* you're reading part two, here's the part one — A letter?

✧.* summary — Eddie was waiting for your response, and when it never came... A wall was built between you.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.5k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I know it took me forever!!! I'm so sorry, please enjoy! And let me know your thoughts about it :)

I have no idea how to start this, my head has been a mess since our last conversation. I'm sorry for the way I left, I should've been more polite involving all we've been through in the last couple of months. I confess that I don't understand why you thought I couldn't support you in this situation, I've seen you dreaming about this day since I was ten years old, where we chatted about school and unattainable plans for the future… Seeing you achieve everything you dreamed of is like being hit by a ray of sunshine, I am deeply proud of you.

I wish you all the best on this new journey in your life, you are great and your talent is not left behind! Know that you wouldn't be there if it weren't for all your extraordinary talent. There is something in everything you do that exudes originality and no one can take that away or dispute it from you.

I decided to respect your choice and not go to see you on the day of your departure, I confess that this is demanding a lot from me, but I do everything to see you well. I hope you have a great trip and a great life there too.

I don't want to lie to you, I really hope you write me back, I have a huge hope that you'll give me another chance and we can work things out... I'll understand if you don't want that, I just want you to keep in mind that I love you. Fly towards your dream, and when you miss home, maybe my words will warm your heart.

Yours, Eddie Roundtree.

The bassist seals the letter with trembling fingers, he knew you would leave tomorrow and he still had his doubts about what he was going to do.He wanted to come see you before the match, kiss you gently, hug you as if you were going to escape at any moment... But he couldn't, if that was your choice he would respect that.

He knocks on the Dunne house three times, his hands trembling as he waited impatiently with the letter in hand.

"Eddie? What are you doing here so early my dear?" Mrs Dunne's sweet voice asks, she was quiet, probably because she was the only one awake in the house.

"I— I came to give this to Y/N." He extends the paper to her, confused, the older girl takes the object.

"Do you want to come in?" She asks, opening the door for him.

"No no, thank you." He seemed nervous, afraid that you would show up at any moment. "I really just came to leave this"

The madness was crazy the morning you were going to leave, you waited in secret for Eddie, a hope that he would appear was growing in you even though you wanted to kill it. Everyone else had made a point of saying goodbye, even Warren had stopped by to leave you some chocolate for the flight, but nothing from your boyfriend.

That's what you were, right? After all, there was no ending, not formally in so many words... Anxiety made you fear that when he left that had been your final point.

You open your arms to hug your considerate mother, Mrs. Dunne had been very present to you since she came into your life and saying goodbye was harder than you thought.

"I'll miss you so much." Her choked voice says, and you hold her closer.

"Oh honey, I'll miss you too." She answers, still holding you. "Anytime you need us, you just have to call. You have a family here."

At this point you were already in tears, and you let the hug go to wipe them away.

"Look." She starts to say, opening her bag to hand you something. "Eddie asked me to give you this."

Your eyes widen, you take the letter in your hands and leave for your new life.

…

You open the drawer of the nightstand next to your bed and return the letter to the place it always rests still not being able to open it, a sigh leaves you as you relive the night you had just had. Now that you were in the same city everything was more vivid, it was like living your teenage years again and it was frustrating. Of course you missed your friends and your brothers, but feeling Eddie's look at the back of your head was a huge distraction that kept increasing many questions in the same.

Eddie let the air out of his lungs as his body collapsed onto the bed he had fought for hours with Warren for, He lights a cigarette while staring at the ceiling and gradually sees the smoke draw your face, He hated how all the feelings he had put so much effort into hiding returned like the tide flooding over him, it was frustrating how you could make his heart race in a way no drug could ever manege to.

He knew that maybe all he had to do was just get over it, and that's all he was trying to do since you left Pittsburgh and him. Eddie was never the kind to get attached to relationships easily, he was used to having one night stands or just casual dating, so when his heart was captured by your gaze and the funny feeling of falling in love... He didn't know what to do.

The cigarette had come to an end and sleep had not even threatened to arrive, Roundtree sits on the bed regretting it before even finishing what he planned to do. He might not have talked to you during the party, but he was a good listener, something he didn't know if it was a blessing or curse until then.

He puts his leather jacket over the blouse he had worn to the party he attended hours ago, also grabbing some cigarettes before going down the stairs of the new house towards the keys to Rojas' van. He considers going to the drummer's room to tell him that he had borrowed the vehicle, but settles for writing a note in letters large enough for him to notice while he looks for it.

He let in his breath once again, shaking his head as he starts the van and heads towards what haunts his mind.

...

The three rings on the door make you lazily get out of bed, your arms go to the blouse thrown on the table before answering.

"Eddie?" You say between shock and yawn, your hands fix your hair automatically.

He avoids your gaze, looking directly at the ground as if he is very anxious. You wait for an answer, but nothing comes out of his mouth, you take a step forward taking his hand and leading him inside.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, after you both sit at the table in your living room.

"I don't know." He lets it out, wondering if he should actually do what he had planned. "I wanted to talk to you about everything."

"In the middle of the night?" You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

"I couldn't sleep, sorry I woke you up." He looked embarrassed, but it was as if being there was more comfortable than anything he had been doing before knocking on the door.

"We can talk, no problem.”

"With us moving here I imagine we'll see each other more often than we have over the years." He looks you in the eyes, the red of the cigarette in them. "And I don't want there to be a fight between us, I don't want there to be things that aren't clear."

You let the air out, trying to look as if you were mature for this situation. "What do you mean by that?"

"Even with our history, is everything ok between us?" He wanted to tell you that the answer was no, that he hadn't forgotten you, but it stayed in his throat just like the growing knot.

"For me yes, but for you I'm not sure." You are honest, letting the frustration go with your words. "You were the one who ignored me the whole party, I felt seventeen again."

"You don't need to be sarcastic." He says rolling his eyes.

"Since when do you call the truth sarcasm?" He arches his eyebrows at your response, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "What I meant is that I'm over it, I just don't know if you are."

"You know what..." He gets up, adjusting his jacket on himself. "I think we've cleared that up, let's just be polite to each other and that's it. I see you around."

"You're kidding right?" A mocking laugh is let out by you, disbelief shines through. "Is that what you consider resolution?”

"I'll see you around." He says, you get ready to close the door. "Let's just keep things between us, like before."

Your eyes roll back and you slam the door shut, anger and confusion rising in your chest. How can he just show up in the middle of the night to turn your life around like that? You only feel the tears when they fall on your arm, was it frustration? You preferred to believe so, but seeing him treat you with so much indifference was painful.

Still angry, you go to the nightstands and open the drawer to take the letter in hand. Your vision blurred with emotions growing, you tear it apart and as soon as the first cut is made the rest are just a trigger for the pieces on the floor. You cry, regretting it and at the same time wanting to disappear... It hadn't even been twenty four hours since he had returned to your life and everything was chaos.

You collect the pieces and place them inside the box you found, trying your best not to glue the pieces together to read something that could be your answer.

...

You had done a good job of trying to forget about Eddie Roundtree, you had gone out with a few people and avoided running into him as much as possible when you met the band. But that became impossible when his brother went to rehab and his niece was born.

You moved into their house to help with the baby, Camila had never been so vulnerable and you couldn't feel more angry at Billy than in those first few months. Of course, you knew he wasn't one hundred percent to blame, addiction wasn't easy and it made you very sad to know he was like this.

Your move wasn't complete, you slept there some nights and other nights you went back to your house or studio to create some pieces of clothing. It was hard to face Eddie every day, but you two made a point of avoiding each other as much as possible.

It was hard to remember why you didn't like Eddie much when he was being so kind every day by your side, you start to remember why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was kind, funny, he helped everyone, but he was still the one that left you. And that was certainly the impasse for you to sympathize with him once again.

Night fell on the horizon as you leaned over the counter, a cigarette between your lips as you thought about everything at the same time.

"I see you still like the sunset, sunshine." The nickname makes your spine shiver, you don't turn around, you just let him get closer to you. "It always reminds me of you."

The chill comes to your belly, you turn away in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

He rolls his eyes, “Trying to get along with you, is it that hard?"

You let out a sigh, avoiding his eyes. "You want us to be friends?"

"What's the harm on that?" he asks, resting himself.

You shrug, trying your best not to ask every single question that haunted you over the years.

"You made yourself pretty clear that day in my place." That's all you say.

"Why are you acting like I'm a bad guy?" He's confused, upset in his eyes.

"You can't just keep doing this to me, appearing in my life and just leaving me!" You let out your frustrations, he looks at you without understanding. His gaze fixed on your eyes was overwhelming.

"What do you mean?" His voice was trembling, he took a deep breath. "Look, I know I acted childish that night, I shouldn't have just popped at your place and said those things. But I mean what I'm doing right now, I made one mistake... You're really going to blame me for the rest of my life?"

"One mistake?" You tried your best to hold back your urge to cry. "Look Eddie, it's been a long time. I understand if you forgot everything we've been through, I don't want to..."

"You're acting like I didn't care for you. Like I don't care." His voice was calm, it left you disconcerted.

"How can you say that you care for me if you haven't even reached for me all these years?" You turn to face the sky, trying to keep calm.

"I was respecting you!" He avoided coming closer, even though he wanted to take your hand in his. "I told you that! I—...

He stops when he sees your confused eyes, concern takes over his.

"You didn't read the letter, did you?"

You swallow hard, he waits for your answer but you open your mouth and close it without saying anything.

"Did you receive it?" He asks, you nod your head. "I don't understand..."

"I never read it." You confess, looking at your feet.

"Why?" He felt exposed, hurt.

You don't answer, he seems devastated.

"Fuck." He says passing his hands through his hair. "I can't believe this."

He left, leaving you alone with the sunset.

You made a point of coming home that day, there was no way you wouldn't go back to read that letter, your heart was aching with all the emotions that came up this afternoon. You were overwhelmed and feeling guilty, but at the same time confused... You needed answers.

When you managed to put the pieces together it was difficult to tell what was there, but your body softened and your heart tightened. There was your answer.

...

Daisy Jones was responsible for the band's growth after Billy's relapse, 'Honeycomb' was a masterpiece and the whole world knew it when those chords sounded on the radio. You were happy and proud for all of them, it was great to see them all achieving a dream that you followed from the beginning.

You were really excited to go on tour with them, You had already made many different pieces and I'm really looking forward to seeing them using what you created for them from the beginning. Today was the day of the first show, if you weren't even going to be on stage, you were nervous, you couldn't imagine how they were.

You couldn't contain the tears of emotion when you saw them there, the fans screaming excitedly and a long-time dream coming true, it was an amazing feeling and you were so happy to be part of this somehow.

It wasn't easy to deal with the information about the last situation you had with Eddie, of course, Billy had returned and you had spent less time together but that whole scene never left your mind. You tried to expel the flashes as much as possible while pretending to listen to what Camila was saying.

"Swetie, are you paying attention to me?" She says between a laugh, the music from the celebration party made it hard to hear her.

"Aham." You lie, watching Eddie talk to Warren and another girl you didn't know a few steps away. Camila follows your gaze, and turns with an arched eyebrow.

"What's going on?" She asks, her voice softly.

"I feel like I'll never be able to leave what we had behind me." You felt the words leave your mouth with honesty for the first time in a while.

"Have you told him that?" She asks, looking between you and him.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me, so..." You let out a breath, trying to hold back your tears.

"Eddie could never hate you Y/N."

"How can you be so sure?" You take a sip of your beer, avoiding looking at the distant group.

"Oh honey, if you only knew how many times he told me how he felt... How many songs I heard—

"Songs?" You cut her off, holding her arm. "He wrote songs about me?"

"Many." She responds, stroking his hand with a motherly affection. "You should talk to him."

You gather all your strength to follow her advice, and little by little you get closer to them. Warren is the first to notice you, waving in a comical way for you to come closer, Eddie avoids your eyes, the girl greets you with a small smile.

"Hey guys, the show was amazing." They smile at your congratulations. "I'm really proud of you guys."

"Thank you sunshine." Eddie says, almost regretting using the nickname. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay." You say under your breath. "Look, can we talk alone for a second?"

"Sure." He turns to Rojas and the curly-haired woman. "I'll be right back."

Automatically you take his hand and guide him to a more private place, it's a few seconds of silence before you know how to start. He doesn't rush you, he just waits for you to feel good to begin with what you had planned.

"I read your letter." That's all you can say, he swallows hard. "I'm sorry it took me so long..."

"It's okay, it doesn't matter anymore." He tries to say, but you cut him off.

"It does! It matters and you know it." Tears manage to fill your eyes. "We matter for each other, you matter to me... And I don't know about you, and I know it's probably too late but I can't forget you."

He takes a step closer to you, never taking his eyes off of you. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you." A choked laugh comes out of you, it was impossible to contain it all longer.

"Fuck." He holds your face in his hands, touching your foreheads together. "Please, don't mess with me." He jokes.

"I'm done building this wall between us." Her voice was honest, her eyes never stopped staring into his. "I just want to be with you."

He kisses you, a kiss you've missed for years, a connection of souls, an inexplicable feeling. His hands cupped your cheeks and caressed your skin, you pulled him close to feel him after so long. He would always be your point of comfort.

"I love you too." He whispers against your lips, your eyes closed. "I love you so fucking much."

"I know it took a while but I kind of want to stay with you." You joke, he lets out a laugh.

"We can tell our children that we've been dating all this time, they don't need to know about this hiatus" He says while caressing your hair.

"Children?" Rojas' voice made you jump in fright. "Damn, you guys are emotional, huh?"

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[invisibleicewands]

Michael Sheen's The Way echoes Tata steelworks reality

When Michael Sheen was filming clashes between steelworkers and riot police in his home town Port Talbot, little did he know 2,000 jobs at its steelworks would be at risk by the time it premiered.

"We had no idea when we were developing the story what would be happening at the steelworks when this came out," he said.

"It's incredibly unfortunate that the story we've written has come bizarrely very close to the truth."

Speaking ahead of The Way's premiere at Port Talbot's Reel Cinema, he insisted the three-part BBC drama - originally conceived in 2016 - was a fictional story and not about the Tata steelworks.

"But obviously, knowing the town, knowing the relationship the town has with the steelworks, knowing the insecurities and the anxieties that have always been there in my lifetime around employment and work there - that was part of what drew us to setting the story in this town," said Sheen, 55, who both directed and starred in the drama.

He said Port Talbot's steelworks was the "spiritual centre of the town" and "part of our DNA" and the news of job losses had been "devastating".

The Way is written by James Graham, created by Sheen, Graham and documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis and stars a number of Welsh actors.

The cast includes Steffan Rhodri (Steeltown Murders and Gavin & Stacey), Mali Harries (Hinterland), Sophie Melville (The Pact), Callum Scott Howells (It's a Sin) and Mark Lewis Jones (Men Up and Keeping Faith).

Episode one sees growing concern over the future of the steelworks, leading to protests, which later turn to riots.

Some take to the streets to join the fight, others frantically try to escape or hide in their homes as helicopters fly overhead.

The streets become a warzone and the town is locked down by armed police.

With Port Talbot facing an uncertain future, could life imitate art?

"It's not like we're saying 'this is what you should do as a result of what's going on' by any means, but obviously I have huge sympathy for the steelworkers," said Sheen.

"In no way is this a blueprint to how people should react, but you don't know do you? I have no idea how people are going to react.

"People will try and be as resourceful and as positive about it as they possibly can I'd imagine because that is the spirit of the people in this place - but at the same time you don't know and people are very angry as well."

For Sheen, "everything" is political.

A long-term champion of the NHS, in 2015 he was applauded for delivering a passionate speech to a pro-NHS march in Tredegar, Blaenau Gwent, and he is currently in rehearsal for a National Theatre production about NHS founder Aneurin Bevan.

In 2019, he sold property to bankroll the Homeless World Cup in Cardiff when funding for the £2m project fell through at the last moment.

In 2020, the actor, who was born in Newport and raised in Port Talbot, said he had handed back his OBE so he could air his views about the monarchy without being a "hypocrite".

In 2021, he said he had turned himself into a "not-for-profit" actor, using the money he earned from acting to fund projects.

He has been vocal on a range of issues from children in care to Welsh independence.

Was he trying to make a political statement in The Way?

"Everything is connected, everything happens for a reason, things are the way they are in this town and any town not just by chance, it's because of choices and various things... I think inevitably this was going to be a political story," he said.

"Part of the reason why we wanted to set it here... we needed to feel there was a great sense of discontent amongst a lot of people in the place, a lot of anxiety, a lot of feeling of not having their voices heard."

He said when people were made to feel that they were not being listened to and did not matter "that sense of frustration and anger can boil over".

Sheen made his name as an actor initially in the theatre before winning acclaim as a screen actor playing real people from Tony Blair, David Frost, Kenneth Williams and Chris Tarrant to lead roles in series including Good Omens, Masters of Sex and Staged.

In 2011, he directed and starred in a 72-hour epic theatrical production of The Passion, which moved around different locations across Port Talbot drawing huge crowds and critical acclaim.

It is perhaps unsurprising that he would choose to make his TV directorial debut in the town too.

"[The Way] was definitely very personal," he said.

"I feel like I knew what I was filming and I felt anchored and connected to what was going on."

Sheen now lives near Port Talbot with his partner Anna Lundberg and their two children Lyra and Mabli.

"It's somewhere I inevitably keep coming back to and it's an endless source of inspiration," he said of the town.

"It's the source of all my imaginative explorations really because it's my home.

"It's where I grew up, it's where all the most important things happened to me, it's where my family still lives, it's where I now live again and as I've got older I've realised more and more how important the beginning of my life was and all the opportunities people gave to me."

One of those people who gave him opportunities was Godfrey Evans, a drama teacher who helped shaped generations of actors through the West Glamorgan Youth Theatre and died in November, aged 82.

At the premiere across the road from the town's Aberavon Beach, Sheen dedicated the screening to both his former teacher and Port Talbot's steelworkers.

What are his hopes for those in his home town currently fearing for their jobs?

"Particularly at a time like this when there's so much anxiety and so much concern about the future it is so important to feel like you're supported and you can talk about what's going on and to find connection with other people who are maybe going through the same things," he said.

"We wish everyone the best and hope there's plenty of support for people in the future."

[agent-barnes40]

Sick

13th Doctor & Reader (Platonic)

The Fam + Dan & Reader (Platonic)

The Doctor knows someone in Team TARDIS is sick, and she'll figure it out. She always does.

Sort of a sequel to Escape and yes, I'm pretty sure I have a cold. The ending is abrupt but with Escape, it was an abrupt ending as well.

TW: contagious illness talk

-

The Doctor knew someone was sick, she usually could tell. She is a Doctor after all, well not really a doctor but she could be one if she needed to and right now she really needed to be one. The TARDIS had alerted her that one of the humans on the ship was sick and she couldn't really figure out who, so she implemented a down week, where she could keep an eye on everyone.

Right now, Yaz and Ryan were doing their own things in their rooms while Dan and Graham were busy watching shows in the TARDIS theater room. You were curled up in your room, probably sleeping or reading in bed. The TARDIS always tracked where everyone was, including The Doctor.

The Doctor knocked on Yaz’s door, a subconscious tap of four, and she grimaced a small bit but smiled when Yaz tossed the door open. “Is the sick week almost over?”

“No, one of you guys are still sick and I was hoping it’d be over by now but it’s still sticking. I was just coming to check on you, see if you started having any symptoms.” The Doctor quickly explained, her hands moving quicker than her words were. She had pressed her hands against Yaz’s forehead and then stilled.

A loud sneeze echoed down the corridor and then a croaky voice echoed “Sorry.”

Yaz laughed softly. “Think we found your patient, Doc.”

The Doctor laughed as well, turning to look down the hallway. "You get settled back into whatever you were doing, Yaz. I'll take care of them."

Yaz laughed again, a whole new burst of noise. "Yeah, yeah, cause your The Doctor."

The Doctor never expected to see you around the corner, she had abandoned Yaz at her door so she could hunt down her patient. You had been bundled up in a blanket, one Graham had gotten you when The TARDIS had accidentally lost your blanket. The Doctor looked you over, barely giving you time to register who was touching you. Her hands were pressing on your forehead, and then checking your lymph nodes.

You smiled and just stared at her, leaning into her colder hands. "Hi Doc."

The Doctor smiled softly and looked at you fully. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold, and warm and hot, all at the same time." You mumbled and she nodded.

"Yeah, you have a cold. Lets get you back to your room. Don't want you spreading this around the TARDIS." The Doctor said, pulling her hands away and you whined softly.

The Doctor wrapped an arm around your waist, to help direct you to your room. "I was heading to the kitchen, I wanted to get food."

The Doctor nodded, and turned the two of you back around. "I'll bring you some soup, okay?"

You nodded and leaned on her. "Can you have anyone else make the soup? Your a bad cook."

She laughed softly and nodded. The Doctor turned to open your door after a while and led you inside. You had a tight grip on her as she led you to your bed, and got you sat down on it. Her hands immediately grabbing the top comforter to wrap it around you. "How's the body aches?"

"Horrendous. My spine literally feels like its been operated on. My shoulders hurt too." You complained and lied down as The Doctor pushed on your shoulders just a tiny bit to have you lie down.

"Can I can scan you? Make sure you don't have anything else going on aside from the cold." The Doctor asked, hands already moving to pull out her sonic from her jacket.

You nodded against the pillows, eyes closing as you listened to her start to scan you with the sonic.

"Hmm, looks like your running a low grade fever, somewhat dehydrated. Do you have a headache? Never mind. You can answer that later." The Doctor rambled for a minute and then leaned over you and tucked you in.

"Stay here. The TARDIS will absolutely alert me if you even think of getting up." The Doctor ordered and you opened your eyes to stare up at her.

"Of course, Doc. I'll always listen to you." You mumbled out and smiled at the grin that appeared on her face.

The Doctor pressed a kiss to her hand and then pressed her hand onto your forehead. "I'll be right back, okay kiddo?"

~

The Doctor was surprised to see Graham and Dan arguing over what soup was the best for a sick person and watched them from the door way for a minute. "You two are acting like two dad's right now."

Graham looked over, shaking his head softly. "Grace usually made Ryan soup when he didn't feel good, so I wanted to make the same one for the kid and well-"

"I'm forty-two! I'm not nearly old enough to be a dad!" Dan complained and The Doctor grinned.

"Old enough to be their dad. Graham, why don't you make Grace's soup recipe and Dan, you can help me find a tray." The Doctor delegated quickly, kneeling down to dig through a cabinet to find said tray.

"Why are we looking for a tray?" Dan asked, immediately kneeling next to her to help her.

"I don't want them to eat alone, so I'll go and eat with them." The Doctor said.

"We could all sit and eat together? Might help them feel a bit better, not being cooped up in a room with just you." Graham pointed out, starting on grabbing supplies for the soup.

"You all could get sick and its an Earth common cold. I don't want to have an entire ship of patients." The Doctor said, looking over at Graham.

Dan was still digging through the cupboard when Yaz entered the room. She leaned on the door frame as she watched the older people move around the kitchen. "Soup for dinner?"

Graham turned to look over at her. "Yeah, Grace used to make this for Ryan."

[aquidragon]

blue eyes and jazz and attitude

Rating: PG-13

TW(s): Potential innuendo to nsfw themes

Summary: You had been dependent on Leon for some brightness in the cruel world you both lived in, and he depended on you as well. After years of being close friends, Leon asks you an important question at a DSO-hosted gala. 

Category: Fluff with a sprinkle of angst and spice

Word Count: 1845 Note: I personally pictured re4r Leon from the cutscene of him at the start of the game for his appearance in this fic :)

---

His blue eyes were always his most striking feature. A brilliant cyan, brighter than the sky and deeper than the ocean. Every single emotion he felt was reflected in his eyes, light like the sunlit waves of the Atlantic, or grim like restless waters before a hurricane. You felt yourself being pulled towards his daunting gaze, when it met yours from across the room. He smiled at you, his lips tugged in a half smirk. 

Leon wore a form fitting, dark navy suit that looked black at a distance. His blonde hair was combed nicely around his angular cheekbones. Every single woman he walked past, looked back to stare at him. You were even certain that you caught some men shooting the agent some glances, before anxiously turning their eyes back to their drinks. You almost laughed at the sight, the universal impact of agent Kennedy on people.

It was like he was a god amongst men. Untouchable, powerful, yet so alluring to stare at. You couldn’t blame them, as you were unable to avert your gaze. He stopped at your table, where you were slowly working on your champagne. The bubbly, pale flaxen liquid swished around your glass as he approached. Leon greeted you with a friendly wave, before taking the seat beside you. “You look lovely tonight,” your name always sounded like hot honey on his tongue. 

You looked back at him, mirroring his half-smug grin, resting your chin on your palm. “You  don’t look half bad yourself, Mr. Kennedy.” You purred playfully, teasingly lifting the hem of his trouser sleeve by his ankle with your foot. The blonde lifted his eyebrows, an amused huff escaping his nose. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart, but I think I look great.” Leon lifted a hand, gesturing a nearby waiter over. “Although, I don’t think I could pull off that dress you're wearing nearly as well.” His voice was a seductive, low tenor. His very tone sent delighted shivers down your spine, which tingled down to the ends of your fingertips. 

“I could easily wear the suit you have on, it’s not even a contest.” You teased back, as the waiter set down a glass besides Leon’s hand. It was a mixed drink, a drop of cola amongst a sea of amber whiskey. He quickly took a sip, letting out a delighted groan. 

“We can trade clothes later, if you want, doll.” He lifted his blue gaze over his glass, to look at you. “Although, I’d have to see you put it on, no funny business.” Leon took another drink, while your ears heated.

“Awfully scandalous, don’t you think?” You jested, through your flustered thoughts. “President’s favorite, and random communications agent? Human Resources won’t like that.” You decided to take a sip from your own alcoholic beverage,  the bubbles buzzed over your tongue. “How do you think people will react when they see us sneaking off to another, closed off room, during a company gala?” 

Leon snorted, looking at the nearby party goers, all dressed in their cocktail formal. “Who gives a shit, I outrank everyone in the room; practically.” He looked at you smugly, “including you.” 

Your eyes widened in faux dramatics, crossing one leg over the other. You could feel the fabric over your legs tighten. “Even more scandalous, I can’t be seen sneaking off with my superior. That’s certainly against the rules, Graham would have to fire his favorite agent.” You giggled, invested in your little back and forth. A commonality, in your vague relationship with Leon. 

“I can put in a good word.” Leon mumbled, looking into his glass. “I’d get demoted for you in a heartbeat, anyway, sweetheart.” His eyes lifted back to yours, in a dazzling flash of ice blue. “You know that.” 

You flushed, the flesh beneath your face heating significantly as your heart trembled.  “Maybe I should get promoted for you, instead.” 

This made the agent beside you double over in a brief burst of laughter, in a good nature. “Might have to rescue the President’s daughter from a parasite-infected, cultist village in Spain before you can reach my level.”

“You don’t think I can?” You jeered. 

Leon tapped his fingers on the white tablecloth, inspecting your frame, which made you shiver. You could feel his eyes piercing your skin like ice, making your heart pound against your chest like a deranged animal. “Perhaps with a little bit of training.” He concluded, sarcastically, finishing off his whiskey. 

You threw a crumpled up napkin at his forehead, gasping in mock offense. “Rude!” 

The faint, orchestral music from the quartet began to play. You recognized the ballroom melody, Dvorak’s Serenade for Strings in E Major, Tempo di valse. A waltz, which attracted most of the couples to the dance floor. You finished off your own drink, as the rhythm took an increase of tempo. Leon lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. 

“Do you want to dance? I’m not much of a dancer, but-” 

You snorted, giving him a small grin through the napkin you had used to dry your lips. “With enough liquor in your system, anyone is a dancer.” You rose to your feet, offering him your hand, “I would be delighted to dance with you, Leon.” 

He grinned at your name, his larger, rougher hands taking yours eagerly. Without a second  thought, he guided you to the dance floor. His spare hand ghosted the small of you back as you reached the ballroom. Leon gave you a nervous smile, which you anxiously returned. Mirroring the actions of the dance partners around you, he pulled your body closer into his own. Your chest lightly pressed against his torso, the warmth of his skin seeped through your clothing. 

Clumsy, at first,  you slowly began to move your bodies together to the melody of the musical piece. Your black heels complemented his glossy, black dress shoes as you attempted to follow the proper steps. However, your heel met his right toe, making him hiss in pain. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You whispered, loudly, eyes wide. 

“Maybe I should use high heels for a weapon instead of a knife.” Leon grumbled, before breaking into a chuckle. You joined his laughter, your voices melding together in a perfect harmony. Briefly, his forehead rested against yours, as his hand that was on your back wrapped around to the curve of your waist. You exhaled shakily, your emotions whirling around your mind and chest violently. 

“Come home with me,” his words were so quiet you almost didn’t hear them, “please.” Your name was so sweet against his lips, you yearned to taste it. 

Your fingers traced the rough, wool texture of his suit jacket. It was thick, yet breathable as well. You looked up at him, his blue eyes dug deeply though your thoughts, as his hold on your hand and waist tightened. “Okay, I will.” 

You had always found some solace in Leon, as he did in you. When you had first met him, you were a bright eyed, fresh out of college graduate. He was older than you, but you instantly connected. During your first mission together, yourself in the communications office, him in an presumed-abandoned lab established by Umbrella. Your playful banter with him allowed you both to find some brightness in the dim situation he was in. 

He had always told you that you provided light in his life. Especially after a hard mission, when he’d return to your apartment, beaten and battered. Once brilliant blues turned dull with exhaustion, and pain. You would sit with him, gently guiding your hand down his back, as he sat quietly beside you. Words didn’t need to be shared, you knew he just needed you to be there. To ground him, to remind him that there was still some good in the world. Even if you weren’t a perfect person, neither you nor Leon were able to escape the flaws that made you both human. 

You rested your head against his muscles felt firm, yet soft against your cheek. The music slowed to a stop, with the next song following quickly behind. This time, it was a slow, sultry jazz beat. The lights dimmed, and shifted colors. Soft yellow transformed into a shade of cool blue with a subtle fade. Leon had stopped trying to dance with you, instead, opting for a gentle sway of your bodies linked together. 

“Y’know, you and I should get together.” He murmured into your ear, slowly, sincerely. “For real, I don’t give a damn about fraternization policies, or any bullshit like it.” Your nerves bristled, his volume no louder than a whisper. 

You looked up at him, your eyes dewy. “Leon,” you bit your lip, apprehensive, “are you sure?” 

He laughed, giving you a gentle, kind smile. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.” 

You glanced at the party goers  around you, too tuned into the music, and murmuring in a low chatter. You really only recognized a few of them, from the hallways of the DSO between offices. The company must’ve been large, judging on the miniscule amount of people you knew. They didn’t know you, but they certainly knew Leon. You had noticed stolen glances from many people, looking over at the prestigious agent, and some unknown agent from home command. 

Something deep inside you burned, you may not be known as your position as a communication agent. You could, however, be known as belonging to agent Kennedy. As well as agent Kennedy being all to yourself, despite all the prying eyes. He could be yours, and you could be his. Your mind twisted delightfully at the thought, as butterflies tickled your stomach and your heart fluttered deep somewhere in your ribcage. 

“Kiss me,” you blurted, quietly. “Kiss me right now, and I’ll be yours.” 

Leon blinked, your boldness had caught him off guard. However, he was always quick to recover. With a mixture of smug delight, he grinned, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve waited for far too long,” he exhaled deeply. Slowly, he leaned to press his lips against your own. In a passionate, yet controlled kiss. 

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth as you kissed him back. His lips tasted like whiskey, with subtle hints of honey and his favorite mint gum. You briefly ran your hands over his broad shoulders, the textured fabric of his navy suit jacket tickling your palms. After a frantic heartbeat, or two, you separated. You could feel the eyes of party goers on you, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, instead, wrapped up in brilliant cobalt looking directly at you.  

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You leaned up to whisper into his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “I’m feeling a bit tired of this party.” 

Leon’s chuckle was breathless, as if he were holding his breath while he kissed you. “I like the sound of that.” He winked at you, “drinks are on me.”

---

Part Two, perhaps? Let me know! Thanks for reading! 

Reblogs greatly appreciated 

[thesixenthusiast]

ruby – eddie roundtree

part two (part one, part three, part four)

pairing: eddie rountree x fem!oc (may change to x reader) warnings: drinking/drugs (billy/daisy's addictions) word count: 1.5k author's note: please bear with me in this, if there's a few time mix ups just with the order of things, please do let me know but i'm trying to find an equal balance between the book and show and it's a little difficult lol

BILLY DUNNE: At one of our gigs we were talking to Rod Reyes, he gave us some pointers, told us what to do and what not to do, and then he told us to go west. We were all out of school by then and decided maybe it was the best option for us.

ROD REYES (tour manager, The Six): The band had the look they needed, Billy was a natural born rockstar, the long hair, the deep voice, that deadpan look when he doesn’t get his way. Juliet had the rockstar look down, she had this long hair, big hair too, and dark makeup that she never really learned how to use properly.​​ The girls wanted to be her and the guys wanted to sleep with her. And her voice.. she had this raspy voice that she never seemed to tire out. I told Billy, I told him, get her out from behind you, get her out of singing back up, sing a song or two with her, mix things up, people’ll get bored of just hearing you. Most importantly, I told them to get the fuck out of Pittsburgh.

GRAHAM DUNNE: The six of us decided to move out to L.A..

–

The Six settled into life in Los Angeles, renting a house in the hills of Topanga Canyon. They prepared to begin recording their debut album. Teddy, along with a team of technicians, including lead engineer Artie Snyder, set up shop at Sound City Studios, a recording studio in Van Nuys, California.

The band, Camila alongside, started getting their name out there. They played gigs at clubs and bars, doing near-anything to make a name for themselves on the Sunset Strip. Not too long after, they decided to record an album.

“I feel fully content with my decision to not take your bedroom, Warren,” Juliet hummed in response to Warren’s bragging over having the only bedroom with a bathroom, “Very few people would consider a stray toilet in the corner of your room to be a bathroom, I am proudly not one of those people.” Eddie waltzed into the kitchen, where the group was situated getting ready for the day.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, taking a seat next to Juliet, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “We need a new name, The Dunne Brothers isn’t cutting it for us.”

“Thank you!” Karen yelled, propping herself up against the counter to face the rest of the group.

“I agree, but let’s be realistic,” Juliet reasoned, “you’re never going to get six people to agree on a name.” She leaned against Warren’s shoulder, who was contributing little to the conversation due to how stoned he was.

“We could take the easy way out,” Graham piped in, “The Six.”

“The Six,” Warren hummed, nodding blissfully at the suggestion.

–

JULIET OPAL: The Six. [Smiles] Warren admitted later that he only liked it because it sounded similar to “The Sex,” I don’t think that was a big part of it for anyone else.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Julie really liked the name, that was a big part of it for me.

GRAHAM DUNNE: We finished the album, we were going on tour, we needed a real name, it felt right. Plus it was kinda my idea. [Smiles]

–

Karen and Juliet were draped across the living room carpet, attempting to escape the California heat as the fan that was weakly shackled to the ceiling rotated above them. The girls were taken out of their silent daze with a yelling and laughter radiating from the porch as the rest of the group made their way inside mumbling something about a wedding.

The girls sat up, exhaustion dissipating from their bodies when Camila announced that she was pregnant and her and Billy were getting married that night. They jumped up, Juliet hoisting Karen up from the rug and her sleep deprivation-ridden state, and ran over to congratulate the couple, pulling Camila away from the group and to her closet to pick out her dress.

Later that afternoon, Juliet stood in the dimly-lit backyard, and strung pieces of aluminum foil through the various trees and rosemary bushes speckled across the yard. Eddie crept up behind her, grabbing her wrist, which ultimately led to her dropping the wad of foil into the grass, and spinning her around to face him.

“Eddie!” She looked down at her spilt decorations with a lackluster expression, though a grin was pulling on the corners of her mouth, Eddie made sure not to miss that.

“No, eyes up here,” he lifted up her chin with his other hand and smiled at her, grabbing her other hand and intertwining their fingers as he started to dance with her, “I need practice for tonight, don’t want to make a fool of myself on the dance floor. What time is the minister getting here?”

“I’d hardly call it a dance floor, it’s the same bed of grass you passed out on last week and Warren puked on yesterday,” he laughed, spinning her and then pulling her closer as they continued to dance, “He’s supposed to be here in 40 minutes, but it’s L.A., no one is ever on time, it’s anyone’s guess.”

“Well,” he licked his lips and cleared his throat before continuing to speak, “then you have plenty of time to finish decorating once we’re finished.”

“Nuh uh, I need to help get Camila ready too, pre-wedding jitters. You’ll understand someday,” she leaned her face in closer to his before whispering, “that poor woman.”

“You wound me, Julie, you really do. But alas, a woman’s job is never done,” he stopped moving and let go of her hands, “I’ll finish up here, make her feel real pretty.” He smiled, she quickly ducked down and scooped up the mass of foil and handed it to him, before scurrying inside.

–

INTERVIEWER: What can you tell me about that night?

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: [Smiles]

JULIET OPAL: Oh, I don’t know. What’s the maturity rating on this?

–

“Smile for me,” Warren teased, positioning himself for the perfect shot of Camila and Billy, “I need a nice big smile, Billy, knock off the frown, it’s the happiest day of your life!”

“Your lens cap is on!” Camila leaned forward, pulling it off and tossing it to Juliet, who caught it with one hand and handed it to Warren, who stuffed it inside of his pocket and immediately returned to trying to get the couple to pose.

–

WARREN ROJAS: Mescaline is a powerful drug.

–

Juliet laughed as she watched the numerous failed attempts at photographing the wedding and muttered something about how maybe Warren should stick to music, before she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was greeted with Eddie smiling at her, his hand extended towards her.

“May I have this dance?” He smirked, raising one eyebrow at her.

“Oh, of course,” she took his hand, tilting her head to the side and smiling, “if not all of your practice will have been for nothing.”

He pulled her away and the two of them found a position only a few dozen feet away from the rest of the group, who was still struggling to take photos. They danced, her head resting on his right shoulder and his hands around her waist, before one of them got the courage to break the comfortable silence.

“I can’t believe they’re gonna be parents,” she marveled, “I still feel like I’m new here and my biggest concern is trying to make him like me. When did we stop being little asshole kids who bummed garages off our parents for practicing space?”

“I’d like to think when we left Pittsburgh, but I think we still are,” she laughed, leaning her head into him.

“Do you think you’ll ever be like that?” He raised an eyebrow at her, “I mean like, ready to settle down? If we get to where we want to be, if we’re as big as we came out here hoping to be, is it even in the cards for us?”

“I think it’ll be tricky, but it always is, whether you’re leaving for a 30 city tour the morning after you get married, or if you just don’t know if you can do it with the kid staying in one piece.”

“I guess so,” she got quiet, swaying to the humming of the music until Eddie eventually decided it was time to rejoin everyone else.

The next morning, Juliet loaded her bag into the van, crawling into the passenger seat next to Eddie behind the wheel. After finalizing her spot, she climbed out and walked over to Camila, throwing her arms around her and leaning into her ear.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she looked at the tears welling up in her eyes before continuing to speak, “I’ll watch out for him for you. Call me if you need anything, I’m serious. I’ll drive back to California from Boston to bring you orange juice if you run out, I’m here.”

Camila hugged her back and Juliet shielded her from the group as she wiped the tears from her eyes, then she climbed back into the van, a stoic expression taking over her face. Eddie noticed and placed his hand over hers on the console, bringing her attention to his face. He nodded and gave her a weak lipped smile. As the group piled into the car, the energy lightened and Eddie let out a “alright, let’s get out of here,” before pulling onto the road.

–

JULIET OPAL: And then we were off.

[theredofoctober]

MANNA PART 5

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, sort of DD/LG dynamic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, injury, drugging

She/her pronouns for Reader

---

You clap out of the morphine night of your slumber to hear Will Graham's voice, low and, hoarse at the other end of the room.

"What happened?"

He stands, flushed from the outdoors, the tip of his soft nose pinkly cherubine, staring at you with the uncertainty of his having not yet slipped into the role he always assumes in this house.

Will is vulnerable, in such moments, suspended between the reclusive criminal profiler known to the public, and the often cruel, sensitive, complex creature shown to you, a character in continuous change.

He glances to Hannibal for reassurance, an answer, perhaps, permission to enter this space with him. There cannot be fire without the flint to strike it, after all.

"Dr Lecter," says Will, sharply, with a ridiculous formality, for the intimacies they have shared in your body. "What happened? Her leg is in a cast."

"Indeed it is," says Hannibal, congenially. "I put it there myself. As for what occurred to produce such an injury— it is only fitting that our errant charge tells you herself."

The doctor swills a glass of some dark liquid, and glances pointedly towards the boarded window. Will turns, unthreading his scarf from his neck; the pallidity of his white throat compells you with the ease of which you might cut it, were you not weak, had you kept a shard of glass from your escape.

His face stills, mouth drawn tight as he examines the planks over the shattered window, rather spoiling the aesthetic of the room. Will's eyes—large, glossy with alarm—harden as they return to you.

There is a pause held between the three of you, the reverence of cathedral quiet.

Your blood pounds in your temples, and every instinct has you craving the darkness of hidden corners where the hands of neither man can find you.

Hannibal says, "I will prepare dinner. The two of you may discuss this alone."

"No!" you say, quickly, and realise that Will has uttered the same word in blackly comical tandem: you, with a loathing to be boarded with the dog that bites, and Will in alarm at being left to rely on his own judgement, which he little trusts at the best of times.

"Our ward must foster an individual relationship with each of her guardians," says Hannibal, resolutely. "I will return presently. I trust that you will get along without me."

He retreats into the kitchen with a smile at his lips, all easy satisfaction.

You and Will look at each other, his gaze crawling down your body with the quickening venom of disappointment.

You are trapped by the weight on your leg, the shackling pain; you cannot flee this room, can do nothing but lie half-upright against the cushions, thinking of Will's dream, the wind-surge of leaves, and blood in the rain.

"The window," says Will, at length. "You broke it. You tried to leave. Don't bother denying it; the guilt is all over you."

You don't reply, beholding the cosmic uselessness of it.

"Dr Lecter chose not to give you your medication this morning," Will continues, with a tone of rising accusation. "You went out of your way to spit in his face by damaging his property and abandoning your treatment. Abandoning us. My question is, why now?"

The question comes with a suddeness you cannot easily respond to.

"This isn't the first time you've been unmedicated, alone in the house," says Will, jumping at your silence. "So why today?"

"You scare me," you admit. "Both of you. I'm scared of how far you're going to take all this."

Will scoffs, his soft looks soured with derision.

"That's nothing new. But you had a pretty good idea of what would happen if you were caught. What made you think you'd ever get away?"

His eyes are Byzantine stone in the low light, catching the lamp in such a way that their colour is magnified, unbearable in its focus.

"I... I didn't," you falter. "But I had to try. Because..."

Will's arched brows, scathing, provoke a rush of honesty.

"Because I don't want to get better," you say. "I never wanted to go to therapy; my family made me. I don't want help. And I don't want you."

You anticipate anger, but the smiling coldness with which the younger of your captors replies curdles your very blood.

"I don't think you're telling the truth. Not anymore."

Swallowing, you glance away, your eyes rooted to the broken window, the nails like malignantly winking eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Will."

"Don't pretend you don't remember whose bed you climb into when you have nightmares," he says, coolly. "Who you crawl to, begging for reassurance when one of your sessions with Dr Lecter gets too much for you. You could disengage entirely from all of this, if you wanted to, but you don't. You're responding."

A smugness rounds Will's words, a confidence unusual to him. You wonder how much of it is him carrying out his role and how much is really him, the man that murders in sweet slumber.

"At this point, you need us," he continues, "and you know you do. I'm stunned that you'd insult us by even entertaining the notion that you'd last even a day out there alone before skulking back, like a dog hit by a car."

"I could make it," you mutter, petulantly. "I'm not a baby."

Will laughs aloud, a short, unhumorous sound.

"At this point, you might as well be. You're so sick that you can't be trusted for two hours alone. We know you broke the rules, the other night. Foolishly decided to be lenient. Clearly, that can't happen again."

To your dismay, you find yourself hanging your head, chastised.

"If we let you leave, what do you think would happen?" asks Will, relentless in his path to grind you down. "I'm curious. Did you really strike out without any plan at all, or did you intend to starve yourself to a marty's death just to prove a point?"

"I'm a human being," you protest. "An adult. I deserve my freedom."

"You can't be trusted with it."

"It's my choice to make. Mine."

You're almost shouting, ashamed of so loud a voice in a house that seems to be made only for respectful murmurs.

"You haven't been listening," says Will, sneeringly. "You don't get to decide that anymore. Not until you're well again."

His makes no attempt to conceal his lack of faith in this reality. It occurs to you that you should be insulted by such judgement from a madman, but you are hurt, deeply so.

"I guess you have nothing to say to me," says Will. "You're such a disappointment. And now I have to decide what to do with you."

A rod of fear flowers down your back, and you regret that you cannot run, cannot defend yourself in any way against him.

"I'll have to be careful," says Will, ponderously. "Wouldn't want to spoil Dr Lecter's impeccable handiwork."

"Will," you say. "Don't. I'm sorry."

Will's lips draw back from his teeth in disgust.

"You're sorry you were caught, is all."

He pauses, his hands in his pockets, thoughtful.

"You're sleeping in Hannibal's room from now on," he says, suddenly. "Privacy is a privilege you haven't earned."

Your bedroom had been a reprieve, a respected space in which it was understood you were to be left alone; there is no question as to where this change in arrangements will lead for you.

"But my leg," you protest. "I need my own bed."

"You can sleep on one of the chairs," he says, dismissively. "They're comfortable enough, though that's not my main priority right now."

Suddenly you're on the verge of despair, comprehending exactly to what end you have consigned yourself through your foiled venture.

"Why are you doing this?" you blurt out. "Why? To impress Dr Lecter? To make him happy?"

It's dangerous to interrogate the rules of the charade, yet you cannot prevent yourself, cannot exist here without treading deeper than the shallows of sex, and its hold on the three of you.

"Please answer me," you say, as Will tenses, the stillness that comes before a lapse in control. "You would never do something like this on your own. You... you try to be a good person, right? So why are you playing along? Is it like I said?"

Will is silent for so long that you regret having spoken.

"You're right," he says, at last. "At first, it was about Hannibal. I was curious how far he was willing to go with this; I wanted to understand him through you, even though what I saw and what I was doing made me uncomfortable. I was waiting for a revelation, like panning some dirty river for gold."

Will steps forward, closing the distance between you.

"The thing is," he says, "that what I found is that it's not just about Hannibal anymore."

You glance up at him in trepidation.

"So what it is about?"

"Family," says Will. "Blood has nothing to do with it. There's a bond, now, and responsibility, beyond the treatment."

Shocked, you say, "We're not a family."

Will lunges forwards, his flattened hand jolting you back against the couch.

"Careful. Thin ice doesn't even begin to cover your situation right now."

His touch, the magma of danger in his eyes; you stare into the trench of pupil and find the rational adult in you towed down into the deep.

"Daddy," you whimper, and you feel the quiver through him of want, of grudging affection even your running away has not made a meal of.

Will clenches his hand on your shoulder, staring at his knuckles as though astonished that he has the stomach to touch you.

"So now you're calling me that? Think I'll go easy on you?"

His face is so near to yours that you spin the same air into a flax that joins you together. His breath is odorless, yours rank with wine, with fear, with want to end your noxious attachment to one another.

"You were bad," says Will, coldly. "And this is what bad girls get."

Ridiculous language, the stuff of poor quality pornographic films, is made by him into an idol of darkness.

He pulls up the dress you're in, finding you bare beneath, peach-slick, and yearning for attention; his fingers open you to him, and you feel yourself descend to their invitation.

Will's breath comes in soft snarls at your neck. His free hand is at your breasts, your hip, his every grasp a tender and fumbling violence. Your back rises from the sofa cushions like a doubled belt, and you sob as your leg aches, and Will cracks pleasure from your rigid body as though you are but honeycomb to be so broken.

"I shouldn't even be touching you right now," he growls. "I''m giving you exactly what you want."

He kisses you in a sloppy bite that carries the wildness of terror, the dread of having near lost you, of having being driven to some abandoned, primitive cruelty.

"You'll never leave us again," he says. "Say it."

You turn your face against the back of the couch in misery.

"I can't!"

"Do it, or I swear I'll get you close to coming and leave you there. You know that I can. And will."

Pleasure between your thighs, pain parring your broken leg so that you cannot tell where one sense ends and the other begins. Will's thumb grazes your clitoris so lightly that you wish you'd snapped your neck jumping from the window, death a pleasantly beckoning alternative to this intelligent evil.

"Say it," says Will, again, and the crack in his voice is all possession, and broken need. "I have to hear you say it."

His kisses find your mouth, and the moon-silk of dolorous joy braids your middle with a giddy silver. Always his kisses are the catalyst to undo your resistance, for they come when the gauze between Will and madness is at its thinnest, when his desideratum is the same as yours.

"I..." you falter, and Will's fingers withdraw against your thigh, tracing the pearlescent matter of your pleasure in clawing arcs across your skin.

You don't want to be touched, yet you know the terrors that bask in every hour alone.

"I'll never leave you again," you whisper, and Will's expression is a child's drawing of relief, the overlarge eyes eating up his face.

His fingers rejoin your flesh in a messy dance of eagerness to make you come, to make you see how vacuous a mannequin you are without him and Hannibal to possess you with their desires.

You grip the sides of the settee and shiver through a guttural cry as your climax gloves Will from finger to wrist; the after-twinge of the ache in your leg forgotten in it.

He looks down at you, tucking one of his wayward curls behind one ear.

"That's better," he says.

Rather than elaborate on the statement, he kneels beside the couch and lowers himself to the tea-musk of your acquiescent orgasm to taste it.

Hannibal emerges, suddenly, in a doorway, his face slightly misted from the kitchen, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow. He looks upon the scene before him: you, raddled with exertion, Will lapping a lake of his own building.

"I was about to suggest that we move this conversation to the dining room," says Hannibal, lightly. "But I see that you have already started eating without me."

[liminsendhelp]

Bloody wedding. Timeline: about a year or two after the first meeting.

Yes, Graham is the witch in this au.

No, it's definitely not a metaphor for sex.

Yeah, Hannibal's a simp. But, canon, you know?

Au here

He piled his whole body on top of her. Cold steel gently scraped the skin near the umbilical cord, snaking sideways.

"If you're going to take everything, you should give just as much."

"Cut before I change my mind." Graham's voice trembled, warming his lips in a settled whisper.

He nodded, watching the thickening clouds in her thunderous gaze.

A flash twitched.

A tearing moan escaped her lips like the wound he'd left behind. She bared her teeth and pressed her tongue against her palate, breathing painfully and stifled.

He didn't hesitate to cut the skin on her stomach, letting the blood and flesh wash over her wound.

Connecting him to her.

Nimble calloused fingers gripped firmly into Hannibal's shoulder. Her sure palm lay somewhere in the depths of his agony. His heart pounded insistently, shattering all the winning records of the impregnability of his forts. With his forehead resting against Graham's sweating shoulder, he waited for each catrona to finish its chant.

When the deafening strokes of magic left him stunned and softened, when her gut no longer touched his gut, when their mingled blood caked, charred at the edge, when their skin fused itself into keloid scars on their bellies, then Hannibal allowed himself to breathe, gaining a new name.

"Boar. The animal from the coat of arms..."

"Falcon. The Grahams have a coat of arms, too. Some Scottish clan... No, you know. Make it a stag."

"A stag it is, then."

Breathing even, unified, beating in such metronome-like heartbeats. A couple of warm minutes.

They lay on the floor. Graham purred something, running her hands over his ribs.

"I won't wear the ring."

"You've marked me much deeper than that."

"You mark me too, Hannibal." Her palms were so dear, he restrained himself from crying tragically into the curve of her neck. The darkness he could see and share, the pain he was willing to endure and accept. Every possible thought was preoccupied with her presence, the idea of her. "But no. I'm sure you'd be willing to order family rings and really get into heraldry."

He hums in agreement, letting his teeth scratch briefly at Graham's neck. Her skin is covered in goosebumps.

"I've been thinking of restoring the castle..."

[fabseg-reader]

Miraculous AU: Yandere Twins Au - Amenath/Nathalie and Amélie (Yandere Amélie)

I've imagined a scene between Nathalie and Amélie. I thought about a fan-concept about Amélie, Felix's mother, being a Yandere.

It happens in an AU. In this AU, Amelie is lovesick of Nathalie.

There are two versions: the minicomic (up) and the fanfic (bottom).

The sketch art and the story (below) are mature: they contain bondage, undressing, sensuality moment, drug mention and toxic yuri (not really consent).

The story:

When Nathalie begins to wake up, a familiar and feminine voice calls her.

???: Already awaken, Nathalie ?

Nathalie: Huh ? Émilie ?

???: Nearly. But not really. Watch by yourself.

Nathalie opens her eyes and she sees Amélie who is smiling in front of her. The blonde woman is dressed in lingerie, wears a rabbit-themed headband, black gloves and latex boots and holds a whip.

Nathalie recognizes her own whip. She held that when she was an treasure huntress/archeologist.

The bed (it's Nathalie's bed) is covered of special decorations: pink flowers, roses, flower petals and red and pink heart papers.

Nathalie feels uncomfortable about the situation: she understands she has her arms and legs get tied/roped or handcuffed. She realizes too she is just dressed in lingerie too (and she has an exotic flower at her right ear).

Amélie feel happy when Nathalie looks at her.

Amélie: Did you sleep well, Sleeping Beauty ?

Nathalie feels confused. She has a bit of sensation of spinning (hangover ?).

She remembers she had suddenly fallen into sleep after drinking a cup of tea Amélie had offered to her while the two women were sitting at the garden. The last thing Nathalie had seen before was Amélie held her in her arms. The aristocrat woman expressed to her a malicious smile before the black out.

Now, she understands Amélie drugged her. She wants explanations.

Nathalie: What the hell happened to me, Mrs. Graham ? And what have you done to me ?!

Amélie: I just take care of you, this evening.

Nathalie: What is this madness ?

Amélie: I won't talk about madness when I can talk about love.

Nathalie (disturbed): Love ?

Amélie giggles. She moves her left hand and caresses the Nathalie's cheek. When she puts back the hand on her own cheek, she suddenly becomes exalted.

Amélie: Yes. I love you, Nathalie. I'm in love with you since 15 years. ❤

These words astonish Nathalie causing her to blush. 😳

Amélie: During a long part of my life, I searched the perfect lover and I've found you: Nathalie Sancoeur, my perfect wife. Colt was a foolish guy and he was too disgraceful for me. A true monster. I needed a plan to destroy him once and all. And save my Felix too.

Nathalie(worried): You murdered... your husband ?! 😮

Amélie: Just self-defense. But Gabriel was a fool and a monster too. I'm glad my son and my nephew can make their happiness.

Nathalie still remembers Gabriel was Monarch the Butterfly supervillain. He became obsessed about Miraculouses he lost his humanity. After being healed from her magic disease, she has resignately accepted to keep the secret away from Adrien (alongside with Ladybug).

Nathalie: Do you plan to eliminate me ?

Amélie giggles.

Amélie: No. No. I can't do it to you, Nathalie. I said I love you too much. ❤

Nathalie: And your son Felix ?

Amélie: I am sure my beloved son and his girlfriend Kagami will accept you and my good Adrien plus his girlfriend in the new family I want to compose.

Nathalie: And why me, Mrs. Graham ?

Amélie: Because You look too sweethearted, Nathalie. ❤

Nathalie blushes about Amélie's words but she still troubled. The first thought the bodyguard woman has is: To reason Mrs. Graham de Vanily to free her.

Confident about her escape plan, she begins to play her game.

Nathalie (feigning to be polite): Can you loosen my ties, Mistress Graham ? Please ? 🌼

Amelie laughs.

Amélie: Sorry, Nathalie. But I can't let you go. Not yet. ❤

Nathalie: What do you mean ?

Amélie: I will release you when you will name me by my name. Not Graham nor Fathom nor Lady nor Mistress.

Nathalie: Amélie ?

Amélie: Yes. Nathalie. From now you will call me like that. ❤

Nathalie calmly breathes.

Nathalie: Mrs. Amélie, I must say you... 🌼

The blonde woman suddenly makes a whiplash with the whip silenting Nathalie and making her close the eyes. The latter woman opens the eyes and sees she hasn't any damage. But only the flower from her ear was fallen into pieces because of Amélie's whiplash.

Amélie: Forgive me, honey. I don't want to harm you. I hate to damage beautiful flowers. 🌼

The situation isn't okay for Nathalie. She had underestimed Amélie. She didn't know the latter can be lovesick. And now, she understand this woman is unpredictable.

Next, Amélie's angelic face evolves into a darker tone. She licks the whip and poses as a dominatrix. She reminds of a Femme Fatale. That's worrying Nathalie. 😈

Amélie (dark and sadistic tone): Say. My. Name. 😈

Nathalie (a bit of intimidated, shouting): Huh... Amélie. Amélie ! 😰

Next to Nathalie's answer, Amélie changes her evil expression into an exalted/sensual tone. She feels at the height of excitement.

Amélie (exalted): Good, Nathalie. ❤

Right after, the blonde woman throws the whip puts her hands on Nathalie's cheeks and... kisses her on the lips. 💋

Nathalie slightly blushes because of Amélie's kiss. This situation is a Déjà Vu. 😳

That isn't the first time Nathalie falls in a situation. She remembers Émilie, Amélie's twin sister.

When Émilie was alive (before the Miraculouses' discovery), this woman had already confessed her feelings to Nathalie in the same way as Amélie is actually confessing her. Gabriel was never aware about this thing.

Now, Amélie is seducing her. Without another choice, Nathalie understands the evening with Amélie will be more longer than she expected.

The End?

[ninathekllrr]

General!Ticci Toby HCs. . .

This took longer than expected . . Read till the end for a lil blurb <3 reminder ! English isn’t my first language.

—Clothing;

It depends on how old Toby is.. at first he only wore the clothes Slenderman “found” him in and whatever other articles of clothing he was able to scavenge up. It wasn’t until a few years later he felt safe enough to venture out and buy some clothes from the thrift. (with stolen money cuz bitch don’t get paid to be a lumberjack,,, a human lumberjack that is.)

I’m so bad at describing; just think of Will Graham's season 1 outfit n shit. 😭 I feel like he’d probably dress like a grandpa. Oversized Grandpa sweaters, those button-ups/dress shirts under w collars that peep out, any baggy pants in general. Work/toe steel boots >> .

He just doesn’t bother much w dressing up! It’s also so he doesn’t stand out much whenever trying to go somewhere in public — sometimes he’d get lucky and find band tees of bands he likes or Jeff lets him borrow some of his own.

—music;

A firm believer that he loves metal. Something about the chaotic-icy helps him “soothe the voices.” his favorite bands would be Sevendust, Rammstein, and Lamb of god!

Once when he was on a mission he accidentally broke into the wrong house and lucky him it was a middle-aged white dad who had a thing for 2000s rock and metal. Killed that fucker and stole as many albums and CDs as he possibly could :p.

He’d DIY a bunch of studded leather bracelets and give a few away to Natalie and Jeffery. Gifting is his love language tbh

—interests;

Most residents of the manor (when he ‘lived’ there) don’t/didn’t know much about Toby since he doesn’t bother socializing much. He seems pretty disinterested to the rest but the dude really has some great hobbies and things he enjoys. For one he loves crafting, especially wood carving! He also has a habit of collecting animal bones/remains to clean and use them as decor. His favorites prob have to be fox skulls :). Very much a trinket collector as well. Just a odd man :3

Besides hobbies, oddly enough he enjoys Sanrio-related things—specifically cinnamon roll. (Since it’s the only character he knows,) he will convince you that the cinnamoroll is a bunny, not a dog. He refuses to accept that the little cartoon character is not a bunny as he first assumed. Of course he likes music music,, he’s given poetry a chance, isn’t the great at it but really enjoys it!

—Biography;

Toby is Dominican-German. His mom was Dominican while his dad was German! He’s fluent in Spanish and somewhat broken German. Around 5’9 to 6’0 foot tall. Late teens and early twenties he was more scrawny than anything but after 13 years of labor and trying to survive he obv grew some muscle mass and like… isn’t built like a 17-year-old boy idfk. Ofc, he was born on April 28th 1994. Toby grew up in more southern states (specifically Alabama) and has a slighht southern accent.

—Proxy experiences;

Toby is a runaway proxy; one of the very few that managed to escape Slendermans (or the operators, depending on which) grasp. Though he isn’t exactly safe cuz of this, If he gets too close to the terrority of Slenderman or the operator he starts developing symptoms and illness. Course the main being static n amnesia, waking up in random places covered in blood, etc. Toby can’t feel pain so the static doesn’t cause immense headaches but it’s dangerous for that exact reason; he can never tell when his nose starts to bleed or his ears rupture.

Toby only got involved with the operator in his later years (maybe around midish late 20’s) when he was in the minced of escaping Slenderman, and just so happened to meet Tim Wight. He spiraled into a REDACTED hell hole from there.

—Love interest(s) ?;

Oh boy, , it really depends on how quirky im feeling. Ticciwork and TicciJeff tbh. He loves ppl with no sanity 🫶🫶 Thankfully Jeff isn’t involved with Slender because he’s too much of a loose cannon to be controlled, much like EJ, the rake, seed, smile, grinny, etc. and Slenderman doesn’t take interest in Clockwork but since she has connections with some of slendermans valuable tyrants and or proxies, the entity leaves her be.

Jeff was the one to help Toby escape slenderman, and snapped him out of his “devotion” era. Clock is just amazing girlfriend and always there for him :p.

extra . . . .

[ REDACTED ! ! ]

This Deja vu feeling haunts him. He doesn’t understand why he’s being searched for. Why do the cops know who he is? Why is he? Who was he?

Childhood didn’t exist. Was he always grown ?

Why is it when he passes down that neighborhood, it feels so nostalgic . Nothing left but ashes and decaying foundations of homes, homes that were once were preoccupied by happy families. He call still smell the remains of the burnt buildings. Strange. It’s like he could never forget.

Jeff always went quiet whenever they were talking and the topic of this neighborhood was brought up, does he know something the EX proxy doesn’t?

What’s more confusing is that fateful night with Natalie, he found himself driving down a dark road that one night. It shared similar sentiment much like the abandoned neighborhood, only much more sinister. He was with Clocky, Pretty brunette with a clock for one eye,, the other an odd emerald green. Over time, the twitchy man taught himself to read clocks just so he wouldn’t have to check his phone for the time. Natalie’s eye always went tick tock, tick tock.

It was only him and Nat against the world at that moment,, so who was the mauled looking blonde in his rear view window? Sitting in the back of his car as well, it was strange. Jeff usually hoarded up the back seats. . He wouldn’t share it with a victim.

But it isn’t just a victim. Toby found himself struggling to catch his breath, who is she? Nat. It’s not Nat. It’s not Jeff. It’s just some blonde girl. A young adult that resembles someone he doesn’t know. Does he know ? ? ?

Who is she?

What was once a soft and familiar safe touch was now ghostly and evocative ? ?

Everything is blurry around him. He doesn’t hear her asking if he’s okay.

He doesn’t feel her cold touch, her hand covering his on the steering wheel.

One moment he’s on the road

The next he’s out cold

.

What caused him to swerve into that tree ?

Why did he put their lives at risk ?

.

Panting. He heard harsh panting. Was that him? Was that her? His hands were completely thrown off the steering wheel and replaced with paler, somewhat smaller ones. Not so gentle though. Something warm was dripping down from his nose. Metallic scent wafted and clogged his nostrils. He licked his lips and wasn’t surprised to be met with blood - he looked in the rear view mirror - NO BLONDIE IN SIGHT

He looked out the window. Did he just barely manage to swerve away from that tree? No. He didn’t save their lives. He looked to his right. A singular green eye met his. She’s unharmed, unlike REDACTED but shooken up. What brought him back to his senses was that familiar disoriented voice.

“Toby, what the fuck ??”