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playboysaleen · 3 months ago

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Kalopisa. (3)

Kalopisa: (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.

Parings: Victoria Neuman x Supe!Reader (GN) (Slight AU)

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Summary: You never had the best life. Being abducted at a young age, being raised in the most wanted mafia as a weapon, hell- becoming the most feared in the gang. But…Truth is, you only wanted freedom. Being able to wake up and not have to wonder if you were going to see the sunset again. What happens when your wish partially comes true and you are offered your freedom but at what cost? Oh, you’ll see.

Warnings: Death, Swearing, everything you done seen is the Boyz is what you should expect here.

Word Count: 5.3k (slightly proof read.)

I just want to put out there that there is a age gape between Neuman and the reader. I think in the show she is like 35 and the reader is like 25-28. I dont want to make the gap so damn big but I know all ya'll reading like them older. Yall just like me lmfao. Imma take a break after this one cause ive been writing since 8pm and it's about to be 4 in the morning- Im tired as fuck. Enjoy and thank you for reading.

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“Where is the fun in that?” You whispered as your eyes flashed the red that has haunted her dreams since. You wanted to kill her but something about her led you to wanting to see a certain side in action.

“You’re a fucking monster.” She grumbled, rolling out of bed placing on her heels. You scoffed standing up from the sofa making way to the door. You stopped taking one good look at her as she caught your gaze through her lashes.

“Takes one to know one mon amour.” she rolled her eyes as you leaned back disappearing from her view. You shuffled down the stairs seeing M.M sending you a look,

“If you a Supe; I wanna see some Supe action.”

You nodded, looking around the room waiting for his command when you swiftly moved your head to the side watching the bullet fly by your head into the wall. Your eyes locked onto his, sending him a smirk.

“What if fast reflexes was not on my resume?” Your eyebrow raised with a questioning look. He shrugged his shoulders replying,

“Then I would have to deal with a very angry Frenchie.”

“You would have made my life easier if you actually sent it right between their eyes.” Victoria spoke out walking past you, plopping herself into the chair next to Kimiko. She sent the girl a small smile but Kimiko rolled her eyes tossing you the strawberry covered donut. You send her a nod in which she smiled your way. Victoria huffed, leaning back watching you take a bite out of the treat.

“Most Supes have fast reflexes, what else do you have?” Butcher asked, cleaning his handgun on the kitchen table. Hughie decided to stay back to ‘keep an eye on you’ but he really missed the days it was you and him at the shop. You reminded him of a younger(out of control) sibling.

“Ah…super strength, super speed, but not fast like that blue connard (asshole). I remember Nina mentioning other things but I haven’t découvert(discovered) them yet.” Hugie stood up grabbing a folder from his desk plopping it on the table that was in the center for everyone to see.

“Y/N.”

“Who is that?” You asked, confusion swarming in your eyes. Wait- No- that can’t be-

“This is a file I found from one of our old busts. It was associated with the Red Rivers Underground Enhanced Program for children.” Hughie started, he opened the file to find a mugshot-like photo of a younger you. You were probably twelve in it. You remember the scar that was seen starting at the top of your right eyebrow running across the bridge of your nose. One of Nina’s boys slammed a hammer against your face for attempting to ‘escape’ when all you wanted to do was see this ‘blood moon’ everyone was talking about that morning.

“It says here that subject was admitted for a few days but then taken out of the system due to being too-”

“Dangerous.” you finished Hughies statement, when you sighed, turning away from everyone's eyes. You remembered that week. It was the week you decided to put a barrel down your throat pulling the trigger. You couldn’t take it anymore. The needles being pricked into your veins, watching the blue liquid course through you. The pain that felt like someone was yanking your spine out but what made it worse, they wanted to test your weaknesses. You were their submissive little mutt for a week with no blood in your system. You thought killing yourself was the most easy way out but you remembered waking up with a headache only to throw up nothing but the bullet that was intended for freedom.

“I do not have a name. I do not remember being called that.” You spat turning on your heels following the sign that read ‘roof’. The sound of the door slamming shook everyone. Even Butcher.

“Bloody hell, the kid has no soul. No childhood. What did Nina do?” Butcher spoke, snatching the file from the table reading all of the intel they had.

“Psychotic reactions. They literally snapped an officer's neck when given a stuffed animal.” He started reading aloud,

“No interest in children's activities, when asked about parents- the patient…” Butcher let his words die out in his throat but he kept reading,

“Butcher, what did that motherfucker do?” M.M spoke out, everyone's attention was on Butcher when he sighed closing the file clasping his hands together,

“A bunch of shit that we need. In all red it said- ‘Neutralization Aim- Homelander. Viable.’ This kid is the key to sending Homelander straight to the Devil's Den.” Butcher smiled once he saw M.M and Frenchie sigh softly. You were almost identical to Homelander except you were somewhat a-

“How the hell are they going to kill Homelander when they’re literally a vampire.” M.M questioned when Butcher tossed him the file,

“Little Nina didn't mention the potential shit that bloodsucker has cause she knew her entire organization would be slaughtered. Burned to the ground.” Butcher continued, Victoria sat in her seat soaking in the entire biography on you. You didn’t even notice but you were almost invincible.

“Let’s not make cauchemar feel like they are in another one of Nina's plans. They are good people once they let you in. Besides,” Frenchie defended you, rising from his position walking to the door, “they want the same thing we want.” Victoria stood from her seat walking to Frenchie placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll handle it.” Victoria said as everyone huffed. Frenchie opened his mouth to protest but she leaned over whispering to him. “They don’t want to be pitied. They want to be understood.” Frenchie turned to face her, eyes wide but all he could do was nod.

You sat on the edge of the ironhouse building watching the sun slowly peek from the horizon. The breeze that danced along your skin sent a sigh out of your mouth, you felt free. Expensive perfume darted into your nose when you heard rustling next to you, burgundy slacks poked into your peripheral when you huffed.

“They must really be having a laugh sending you up here.” mumbling, you placed the bottle of chocolate milk next to you. You glanced, letting out a bitter chuckle.

“They must be since I volunteered.” your head turned her way when she shrugged her shoulders looking out to the horizon.

“Why are you still here? I should have killed you when I had the chance.” You spat. She turned your way sending you a look,

“But you didn't, so what does that say? I’m not who I was years ago.” She whispered her eyes still boring into yours. You tried to search for any feelings of betrayal in her blood but the way her heart sped up and her breathing changed…she was genuine coating her words.

“You killed Malina.”

“And you killed Tony.”

Damn.

“It was the underground way.” You defended.

“But there is no more underground…You did what you were taught. You don’t have to follow those orders anymore.” She mentioned leaning closer to you. Huffing, you ran your fingers through your hair.

“What do you want from me? I spent almost eight years playing cat and mouse with you and all of a sudden you want to be friends?” You spoke turning to face her. She raised her eyebrows nodding,

“We both want Homelander dead and we are the only two that can do that.” She said, you noticed the goosebumps rise along the side of her neck when you noticed the weather around you.

“That does not cancel the fact that Malina died.” You continued to defend the death of your…friend. Victoria leaned back huffing,

“For fucks sake, Malina worked for Vought.”

What? What- no.

“Malina was the one running the organization with Red River. She was the mole.” Victoria finished. Nina mentioned a Mole but after the countless integrations and fingers being cut off the mole was not confessing. Everything made sense…but you knew Malina since you were sixteen. Why would she-

“I get you loved her but why love someone that was finding ways to terminate you?” Victoria reasoned when all you could do is turn to the horizon, gazing back at the sun now fully visible.

“I am not sorry about taking Tony's life, but I am sorry about the reunion.” You actually meant it. Apologizing is something you never did only when Nina gave you that motherly look when you did not leave a perfect painting of the bodies from her hitlist. You stood on your feet removing your jacket taking a deep breath.

“I can hear them fighting downstairs about us.” You spoke, tossing her your jacket. Her eyes widen but you waved your hand,

“I’ll handle it. Plus, give Zoe a call, I’m sure she misses you.” Her eyes followed your movement as you walked to the door, sending her one last look. She could've sworn you sent her a small smile. Exiting the rooftop down to the boys, a chill ran over Victoria's body as she looked down at the jacket in her hands. She placed on your clothing inhaling your scent that brought a small smile to her face.

You apologized.

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You fucking apologized. You did not want to, but you did. It rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. Those brown eyes were as bright as the raging sun and the color of dancing flames sent you into this new feeling that terrified you. You were taught that the feeling of your stomach turning would be felt when you see the money in your hand disappearing little by little. The feeling of your heart racing should be felt when you need to do anything and everything to keep the underground private. If you slipped any kind of intel? Might as well tell your goodbyes cause you won’t make it to see the sunrise. Humming at the thoughts that danced along your mind, you opened the door to see everyone engaging in a very heated argument.

“Ah, music to my ears.” You sang out, strutting to the open chair next to M.M

“Kimiko’s making the most sense here.” Butcher claimed, crossing his arms as Hughie raised his own in defense, “She isn’t saying anything?”

“Exactly- Look, it is best if we let the Supes handle this one. Little Vampie-” You lifted your hand up towards Butchers name suggestion,

“Call me that again and I will rip your tongue out- What are we talking about?” Butcher scoffed at your insult but you heard his heart race. He liked you. M.M turned his head to face you sighing softly,

“We need to gather more intel on what Vought has on Singer. We have Annie and Victoria on it but we need more eyes since we can’t just waltz in there like some Men in Black motherfuckers.” He explained to which you nodded along gathering the information when Butcher now stood next to Hughie patting his back,

“And that is where you come in Little Vamp, you will be Victoria’s new assistant!” He said, Hughie displayed a look of surprise when you chuckled flashing a fanged smile,

“You can not be serious?” You looked at every face in the room and they were indeed serious. “Tu es.” (you are) you grumbled out running your hand down your face. Victoria was sat at Hughies desk sending the man a look,

“Their records are clean, you can’t say the FBSA will recognize them since all you have listed is ‘Red Eyes.’ but no visual or actual proof of who they are.” Hughie defended when you smirked at how she never really had anything on and against you. You were a free birdie- well this ‘Y/n’ could be your twin but it’s an easy dismissal with the matured eye color change and a nice wavy short wolf cut- you do not look like this…Y/n.

“Well that settles it!” Butcher interrupted Hughies' attempt to redeem his stuttering fit as he took a look at his watch pointing your way.

“Dear Neuman and Starlight need to be at Vought Tower by Nine, it is six. Hughie will take you to his place and get you a nice little office mutt look going,” You looked down at your clothes. You didn’t need to change-

“I look fine.” You said, Frenchie snorted nodding,

“You look fine Cauchemar, for a remake of the crow.” Frenchie joked when Victoria snorted, you huffed, shaking your head in defeat.

“I hope your inseam isn’t so tight,” You grumbled out standing up walking to the door, Hughie scoffed following behind you.

“I in fact have a big dick-” He argued out closing the door behind him, Kimiko snorted covering her mouth. Frenchie laughed softly shaking his head,

“I hope Hughie gets a picture of mon cauchemar.”

“If I hear another sound of that phone I am going to shove it up your ass.” You snapped at Hughie who released a breathless laugh as he stood in front of you fixing your tie.

“You look like serious shit V.” He smiled but you frowned at his name for you.

“V?” Your asked, he shrugged his shoulders adjusting your collar,

“I mean yeah…I know you’re like a vampire but I am not going to look like a dumbass calling you that so I went with V.” He spoke going over your outfit one last time giving you a nod of approval. He stepped to the side letting you take in your reflection.

“Oh the boys are gonna love this.” He said typing away on his phone. You stared at yourself taking in everything. A simple suit but it made you feel some type of way, you looked like you were…someone. The collar to your black button up hid the necklace you wore no matter what you placed on. The black fitted blazer was slightly tight due to you being a bit more built than Hughie but you weren’t complaining due to how it could shield your sleeves of scars that could maybe expose what was left of the underground. The slacks? You weren’t complaining, Hughie was maybe an inch or two taller but the struggle was-

“You cannot wear your boots into the Vought tower. They’ll automatically flag you.” Hughie said, grabbing a pair of his dress shoes to which a look of disgust flashed across your face. Hughie caught it sighing,

“Come on V, it’s just for today and maybe tomorrow.” Tomorrow????

“Do not tell me I have to wear another suit-” You started walking out his bedroom into the living room. Annie walked in through the front door, stopping in her tracks taking in your attire.

“Huh…so you can clean up nice.” Annie hummed out as Hughie walked up to her, giving her a chaste kiss. Rolling your eyes, you snatched the black dress shoes from Hughies hands taking a seat on the couch.

“Victoria is waiting for us outside the tower, we need to go.” You finished up tying the laces on the shoes that magically fit perfectly. You stood up fixing your blazer when Annie stood in front of you grabbing your tie. Lightly flinching, Annie's eyebrow raised,

“Easy…Hughie never gets his tie right, don’t need his minor mistake blowing your cover,” she fixed the black tie that poked out your collar. Huh…you didn’t see that. She tapped your chest backpedaling to the front door. You sent Hughie a nod as you followed Annie out into her car.

“Here are your comms,” she started as you both got into her car. Looking at the earpiece you grimace lightly, now you’re gonna hear them annoy you ten times louder.

“They will think you are Victoria’s little starbucks bodyguard.” She said watching you place the object into your ear, she started the car backing out and driving off. She went over the plan and who you were.

“You are originally from France cause of your accent- okay, you did a tour and now you are now working for the FBSA,”

“Woah woah, not those connards.” You spat when Annie just rolled her eyes pulling into a parking space. You sighed, nodding your head in defeat. Exiting out the car you button your blazer following behind Annie.

“Oh and your name is Alex.” She finished walking up the stairs, you groaned, shaking your head following her.

Your eyes caught the burgundy heels that connected so well with the tone legs your gaze were following. Your mouth almost pooled when you saw the beige skirt start right above her knees. She knew you were watching her, with the way your gaze slowly racked her body and to top it off a beige blazer with a maroon blouse that the top two were unbuttoned.

“No coffee? So much for an assistant.” Victoria attempted to joke but you ignored her going up the last step ending up only a few inches from her face.

“Write me up then, Ms.Neuman.” You whispered, your stare held fire but it only ignited the flames that blazed in her chest. You sent her a fake smile walking up to the main entrance. A shaky breath was released from her when she lifted her head letting her pride take the wheel as she turned on her heels making her way to the door. You held the door open as she walked in while Annie followed suit.

You watched in disbelief at how quick the woman placed on this million dollar smile and was this woman you saw on TV. She shook hands and hugged people you couldn’t keep count on in the span of walking into the tower to entering the elevator. You leaned your head back against the metal wall of the small box sighing softly,

“What? Can’t take a few hello’s?” Victoria teased when you sent her a look,

“Not when I can smell the blood of those men running to leur bite when they see you.” You admitted fixing your blazer aggressively. The doors opened when you were the first to step out, your body slightly rammed into a buff man.

“Watch where the fuck you’re walking.” he shouted backpedaling away with his eyes glued on you. You crumbled your hand into a fist as you kept your eyes on his. A hand was placed on yours when you saw Victoria leaned over sending a apologetic smile,

“I’m so sorry! It’s their first day!” She shouted out when he disappeared down the hallway. A growl bubbled in your throat when her hand gripped your jaw bringing you down to look into her very fiery eyes.

“Control yourself.” She gritted out, lightly patting your cheek with a smile when you saw someone walk by. You don’t know what happened to you but you unclench your fist as you sent her a nod. She took a step back nodding towards Annie who held the tiniest smirk, continuing her way down the hall. You entered a room that seemed to be a quarter for meetings, Victoria handed you her purse as you huffed sending her a smile. She mirrored you walking down the table taking a seat, you took a few steps back noticing a small chair in the far corner where no one can see. Unbuttoning your blazer, you took a seat placing the purse in your lap hearing the start of the meeting. A man started speaking and you tried your best but after a few minutes everything became muffled. Spacing out, you didn’t notice the woman that placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up clearing your throat,

“I’m sorry?” The woman chuckled softly at the speed you were moving to stand up giving you her full attention.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to pry but I wanted to just ask…how is it being the vice president's assistant?” She asked, smiling your way. You internally grimace at how big she was smiling. It seemed a bit sketchy. You blew a puff of air out chuckling softly,

“It’s not for the weak, I can tell you that.” You spoke, the woman laughed quietly placing a hand on your bicep. “But I am very grateful to be able to be a part of the upcoming for Ms.Neuman. Look at her; she is extraordinary.” You gestured your hand her way as she stood talking about the military. The woman's smile faded as she gave your bicep a light squeeze turning your attention back to her.

“Oh come on, from the looks of it…looks like you are more than just her assistant.” She said pulling you in a bit closer. You can’t lie, you wanted to snap this woman's neck if she didn’t get her hand off you. You shook your head smiling softly,

“Just her assistant, unfortunately…” you softly laughed out. You heard the chairs moving and voices from the men when a hand was placed on your shoulder,

“Ashley, so happy you met my assistant!” Victoria beamed, you felt the woman's hand release your bicep when you turned your head sending Victoria a small smile.

“Oh of course, how could I miss someone looking this good.” Ashley gushed letting out a laugh, Victoria did the same but you chuckled softly to mask the hiss you held from her nails digging into your shoulder.

“Mmmh, I don’t know where you get assistants like this but I hope you have a variety of skills outside of politics…isn’t that right Vicky?” Ashley spoke laughing, patting your chest without giving you a light squeeze. Nervously chuckling, you glanced at the woman who still had a grip on you smiling at Ashleys remark. Her phone vibrated causing her to wave to the two of you,

“Work calls. If you ever need another woman under your belt let me know.” Ashley said, grabbing a small business card from her files, sliding it into your blazer pocket. You laughed nodding her way when she slipped out the room. You kept a smile painted on your face as you handed Victoria her purse following her into the elevator. Annie entered after you pressed the lobby button sending you a look.

“Now what the fuck was that?” Annie whispered-yelled when the smile on your face dropped.

“You did good defending her like that but do not let Ashley think you’re fucking the vice president.” She scolded, sighing loudly. Victoria watched the way your jaw flex refraining from saying any smart remarks. Shaking your head, you kept your mouth shut when Annie waved her phone in your face when you all walked out the elevator quickly exiting the building. You heard your conversation with Ashley ring in your ear as you walked to the valet. You rolled your eyes when you heard your compliment and your voice sounded a little louder than you expected. Neumans phone rang when you heard a gruff voice on the line.

‘A dead officer was found in your hotel room.’

You grabbed the keys from the valet waving your hand at the designated driver. He nodded making his way back into the tower as you hopped into the driver's side waiting for her to close the door.

“I know a place.” You spoke out after you heard a frustrated sigh from the woman in the backseat. You glanced through the rearview to see her nodding, you exited the free way starting your route to the destination. Once the call ended when you pulled the car into a small parking lot, killing the engine turning to face her.

“Take off your blazer.” Confusion flashed across her face but she understood when you started taking off your own. You groaned softly, rolling up your sleeves when a gasp was heard from the woman, you turned to see her eyes raking up your arm. You shook your head, yanking off the tie and tossing it into the passenger seat.

“Here is how this is going to go.” You started undoing the top three buttons from your button up pulling out your necklace displaying the sapphire gem. “You have to follow everything I do. Do not engage with anyone without me. Do not look at anyone but me and do not pop anyone understand?” She nodded, grabbing her purse as you hopped out the car, opening her door. She noticed a small run down building a few yards away that had music blaring out and a man being thrown literally into the street.

“You brought me to a fucking Supe club?” She spat when you started walking towards the club, she felt your hand sit on her lower back when you looked her way,

“The one place they will not find you. Trust me,” You whispered as she saw your fangs protracting out of your gums. Your bright golden gaze was now caged by the dark veins that swarmed in and under your eyes. You ran your hand through your hair letting a loose strand fall on your forehead. At that moment, she knew this was going to see a side of you she is going to regret but deep down…she trusted you. The both of you walked to the door when the security guard placed a hand on your chest. You were a bit shorter than the man but the energy that seeped from your skin caused him to retract his hand nodding your way.

“Je suis désolé, Cauchemar, tu peux entrer” (I am sorry, you may enter.) he spoke, opening the door wider for the two of you. The smell of alcohol and sex slapped you both in the face as you made way through the sea of dancing bodies. Luckily the only lights that were on were the black light helping the neon strobe lights pop out. The molded bodies soon became a few when you entered into the booths, you walked up the two steps that held a ‘PRIVATE’ sign. Walking right past it, you grabbed her hand sitting next to a woman whose attention was on a man snorting a line. You clapped loudly when his head shot up to meet your fanged smile. Neuman felt his heart speed up and a feeling of…fear.

“Je savais que je te trouverais ici.” (I knew I would find you here.) You spoke leaning down grabbing the man's shoulder pulling him close so that your faces were inches apart.

“S'il vous plaît, je vous donnerai l'argent bientôt.” (Please, I will give you the money soon.) he cried out, wiping the excess powder that covered his nostril. You leaned back nodding but quickly grabbing a fist full of his shirt slamming him into the table that sat in the middle of the section. A sharp breath was heard from the man when everyone around him scattered away like roaches. You looked up to see guards heading up the stairs when you raised your hand, noticing who you were they cowared away as if nothing was happening. The woman stood there in shock at the power you held in this building but what took her breath away was when the man spoke-

“Tell my wife that I am sorry.” He sobbed out, you sent him a nod grabbing the collar of his blazer sinking your fangs into his neck. Blood splattered beneath the man gasping for air when the woman flinched back at the sound of the ‘SNAP’ when his head whipped to the side. You leaned back moaning softly, wiping the blood that dripped from your skin. Your eyes found Victorias as you sent her a smile displaying your coated fangs. She braced herself for more of you as you leaned down grabbing the keys from his pocket. You sighed softly at the mess you made but moved towards Victoria extending your hand,

“Let's go.” She gave in, grabbing your hand as you helped her up walking further into the club. She glanced back to see the men grabbing the dead man and quickly cleaning the section. Her eyes widened when she no longer saw his body but the amount of people that entered the booth partying as if you did not kill a man. You finally got to the back of the club where a small door was hidden, grabbing the keys of the man, you unlocked the door that revealed a flight of stairs. You opened the door wider letting her walk in as you followed behind closing the door and locking it. She kept walking till she saw a view of the city, especially the Vought Tower. You sighed, scanning the loft of the man as you went into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet.

“Get some rest, that meeting wasted the entire day.” You spoke pouring yourself a shot, Victoria couldn't believe your calmness after murdering someone in front of many people. She walked to the kitchen and took a seat on the barstool that gave her a view of your back as you searched through the cabinets,

“You just killed a man and you are telling me to rest?”

Oh she wanted answers huh. Opening the last cabinet, you grabbed the small safe that hid behind the old pancake mix as you placed it on the small bar that separated you and her. You grabbed the top of the safe yanking it off with ease, at least twenty grand, a harddrive and vials of temp V were stashed.

“How did he get a hold of temp V?” She asked, grabbing the vial, making sure it is what she thinks it is. You grabbed the cash stuffing it into the backpack that was hidden in the pantry, answering,

“He was one of Nina’s suppliers. She planned on getting enough Temp V to test and if it worked… she was going to use Compound V to make soldiers.” You spoke with ease grabbing the thumb drive and placing it into your back pocket. You grabbed the Vials from her hand opening them, you tilted them over the sink watching them flow down the drain.

“But he was short and on the run since. I was ordered to kill him the night before your FBSA killed the underground.” You finished dropping the vials into the trash can. You walked into the bedroom/living room going through the closet grabbing a bag that contained clothes. You tossed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt pointing to the bathroom, she kept her eyes on you when you spoke.

“Wash up. Tomorrow’s meeting was canceled…I heard Ashleys call on the way down.” You walked up to her when she didn’t mutter a word. Her eyes were just stuck on you.

You swiped the pad of your thumb on the tip of your tongue running it across her cheek, her breath was caught in her throat when you placed your thumb in between your lips licking off the red substance.

“You have blood all over your clothes.” She blinked away the trance she was in walking to the bed grabbing the clothes as she walked into the bathroom locking the door behind her. She leaned over the sink, her hands gripping the sides when she looked at her reflection in the mirror. God she was a mess, blood from the man was splattered across her face and stained into her clothes. How could you be this evil ...well, she couldn't say that about you knowing the things she has done to get her to where she is now but she couldn’t stop the whimper that dashed out her mouth when the thought of you running your tongue down your neck cleaning the blood for her.

She huffed turning on the shower letting the steam from the hot water fog up the mirror. You sat at the dining table with the shot glass between your lips listening to every move, breath and sound she made.

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Off to bed i go.

104 notes · View notes

noturvlentine · 1 year ago

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An encounter (pt 1)

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Leon Kennedy x reader series!!!!

Summary [series]- after Chris Redfield has requested for your transfer from the BSAA, you’re tasked with uncovering a chain of bio-terrorist attacks alongside Leon Kennedy. Destruction, duty and your untold past brings you spiralling into an unlikely bond with your partner, as efforts are made and promises are broken.

hi!! bear with me while I attempt to write this little series i had going on in my head for a while- it might be 5-10 parts or so but im trying to see how long this narrative goes in terms of chapter length. EVERYTHING IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!!!

i might finalise and actual title for the series later but i thought it was nice to get the first chapter out while the rest unfolds in messy notes ive been taking down. I’ll definitely put the masterlist to this series on here when ive got more parts written :)

hope this isnt too much of a confusing read and any feedback is appreciated!! Also- requests are still open!!! - j🖤

1.8k words

Part 2

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Washington DC

8:30AM

2009

Two days. That’s all they gave you. Two days time off from the last BSAA issued mission which had you sitting in the med bay for three consecutive nights, test after test to insure you hadn’t caught any strain of virus from getting beaten up by B.O.Ws. You’d been transferred to the USSTRATCOM before you could get comfortable in your own bed again. Chris Redfield himself had you commissioned for a good two months down at a station in South America, carrying out operations for BSAA intel which had gotten you into a whole lot of trouble by the last week, hence the man himself took in three squadrons to finish the job. And when the time came for STRATCOM to issue additional ‘more than capable’ agents, Redfield had personally put in a request for you to be transferred to a more- suited position. You’d been under his and the BSAA’s command for the past 8 years as recommended by your commanding officers from military- seeing as they’d found no other candidates as hard in the head and skilled as needed.

Now you were here, headed towards the reception of an all-too-well government agency better built then the BSAA could’ve ever wished for. Not like you had a choice anyway, Redfield wouldn’t be allowing you back into his side of the field for security reasons and well, because he was worried. You felt so- small in this large hall that would be USSTRATCOM’s lobby, your interaction with the woman at the desk echoed like a pathetic whisper.

“I’m sorry but you’re not registered here. I can look you up if you were with any other department-“

“That won’t be needed, she should be cleared.” A smile interrupted your one sided exchange with some government receptionist.

You turned to the woman who’d just claimed she had cleared you.

“Ingrid Hunnigan, I’ve been issued to your transfer.”

There was no need for an introduction, she basically had you on file. Hunnigan made her way around the desk, signalling for you to tail behind.

You wanted to ask her details on the job, how long you’d be out, when you’d be out, introduction to an F.O.S agent- nothing came out except small nods in understanding as she pointlessly flagged out the entire building as you walked through the rustling halls. You’ve grown to not care much about human interaction outside of what needed to be done.

“They didn’t brief you on anything?” She whipped her head around and stopped in her tracks.

“Not at all.”

And that was enough to receive a huff of disappointment as she redirected her route.

Oblivious to your party, a certain agent was currently flicking through your life’s record at the end of the hall, skimming over your profile and various written reports out of a Manila folder, fair in size but not large enough for a normal agent file. His eyes tracing over your documents- despite your age you were quite accomplished, issued in the military and pulled out of ranger school to transfer to the torturous trainings of the BSAA and other government parties alike. You’d even remember briefly having sessions at USSOCOM before you were on field with the BSAA, you’d come in, left a mark and went straight off to work for Chris Redfield.

As you kept walking, Hunnigan had managed to find you a copy of the mission briefing at her office before heading out to the hall again. You were handed a thick set of papers- enough to make you question how big of a job this was. Before your eyes finished with the first page, Hunnigan was three steps further down the hall.

“Leon!” She stopped in her tracks. “I thought you weren’t meant to be here until 9?”

Leon. You seen and heard of him time and time again from Redfield despite their lack of interaction with one another. That name alone made you look up from your hands, startled almost. You envied him in some way- or at least what you had heard of him. Not because he was the presidents golden boy, nor because he was everyone’s favourite toy to send after bio-terrorists. No, you simply envied his will to live and to save others- you envied that in Chris a little bit too if you were completely honest. Little did you know, he had heard a bit about you here and there too.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to arrive a bit earlier.” He turned and greeted you with a warm smile. Unusual huh. Not many people with a tragic life like his working two and two for the government had enough will power to greet anyone like that. Your lack of reciprocation made the exchange unlawfully bitter. He stood up from the bench in the hall, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

“This is agent Kennedy, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about him from around the place. I assume Chris has familiarised you with his presence on this earth.” Hunnigan was inclined on introducing you two and before she could finish your name, he’d already repeated it back to you. He was tall, but not an intimidating height, a firm but gentle grip, roughly shaven and kind blue eyes. No one ever mentioned his look of warmth before.

“I’m sure you two will have more than enough time to know each other, and seeing as your both here why don’t we just get started.” You don’t remember her conversations with you being this light hearted, well- if you could even call them proper conversations amidst your prolonged stroll through the building.

Washington DC

Conference Room 6A

09:00AM

You were almost like some sort of loyal hound to Chris. Sure, you followed orders, got the job done but under the necessary circumstances. Not to mention- being backed up by a squad. You really never left his side despite his muddled up tactical morals, you always managed to fall under his command. This was different. The strings were coiled tighter. And there was no Redfield to suggest that he had a better idea.

You could tell by the annoyance in Leon’s otherwise-abnormally-kind eyes that he wanted to protest against the idea. He was a field agent, a rather special one but he certainly wasn’t some sort of government spy. And neither were you. Hunnigan wasnt exactly asking. In fact she had no say in approval as shes just an F.O.S agent who’s unfortunate circumstances had her picking up after Leon Kennedy.

“Leon we dont have another option” she sighed, tiredly removing her glasses and setting her hand to pinch on the bridge of her nose. “Look, if this really is a plan that’ll result in a chain of bio-terrorist attacks then we can’t be stuck in the deep end.” So- nothing but a wild goose chase into unmarked territory.

Unmarked, exactly what people look for when they want to satisfy themselves with bioterrorism. The BSAA could only ever cover so much terrain, and Chris wanted to punch himself for how easily the US stuck their fingers into his shit.

“Leon-” she sighed again, some sort of tired mother fed up with her teenage son’s lack of common sense in the world, blandly trying to explain to him basic parameters. “We wouldn’t have called if there was anyone else suitable foe the mission.” Leon huffed at the repetitiveness of the lines to follow, which earned him a less patient, more aggressive tone from Hunnigan. “You’d still be shit faced on vacation right now and /kitten/ here would still be tailing Chris Redfield like some sort if spirit animal.”

Leon shifted his gaze towards you, surprised to see no reaction from the otherwise offensive nickname Hunnigan spat out at you. You weren’t denying it, and Leon had had enough of her passive aggressiveness.

“If this all goes south, well have escorts from our nearest location pull you out of there immediately-“

Bold promise to make. You knew STRATCOM was good- but how good? Last time you heard anything about their squads was from Chris Redfield ‘warning’ his team not to fuck up because he didn’t want his XOs filling out mountains of post-operation paperwork. Cleanup was a lengthy process and he hates seeing squad kids packed in bags because of some strategical fuck up. ‘I don’t want a repeat of STRATCOM’s last mission’, he’d said for months on end, pestering kids into learning their shit and paying attention more. Redfield wasn’t in the position to lose any more soldiers- he couldn’t afford to.

You leant back on the table, hands rested over the ledge so you could scornfully and casually flick through the rest of the file laid out beside you. Leon was still standing beside you, a good distance, arms crossed staring firmly at Hunnigan, patiently awaiting her next spew of words. She sighed, deep and heavy and put her glasses back on as she sat up in her chair.

“You leave tomorrow at noon. Escort will be waiting out the back of West Wing so if you could please familiarise yourself with that area and collect your gear before then that would be great.”

That part was directed to you. West wing is on the west side of the building, but where the fuck that is you hadn’t bothered paying attention to. Hunnigan opened her mouth to say something again- but ultimately decided against the idea and instead followed her instructions with ‘any questions?’, before all of you remained in silence and she quickly dismissed you. Hunnigan, in a silent annoyance, packed up the file and left the empty conference room leaving you and Leon to wilt in each others presence.

You watched the dust particles floating around the ray of sunshine hitting the carpet, tapping your finger on the edge of the table.

“Sorry about her. I think she’s just sick of me at this point. But a job’s a job, right?”

Out of the blue, Leon uncrossed his arms and sighed in amusement. You looked up at him, phased by his forgiving attitude, sending a huff and nod in agreement. You resentfully pushed yourself off this table, informally stretching your back as you adjusted yourself.

“See you tomorrow then I guess.” You snarked, backing your way towards the door.

“No introductions?”

“You’ve read my file-“

“That file says nothing about you-“ Leon laughed. You shrugged in return as you reached the heavy wooden door to the hall.

“Nothing to know Agent Kennedy.” You mumbled, like he could barely hear it.

AN: OKAY THATS AN IDEA OF WHAT IT MIGHT BE AND I HOPE THAT WASNT TOO HORRIBLE!!! if theres anything you’d like me to know just shoot a message or send in something :)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil series #chris redfeild x reader #resident evil fanfiction #chris resident evil #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #slow burn #resident evil angst

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nudibutch · 9 months ago

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butch/femme voyeur club drabble

cause i was digging into my writing folder and figured id post bc ive been meaning to work on it for ages but it isn't like. Complete [TM]. this is a pre-print except for Public Review

sub butch (he/him), domme femme (she/her). have fun

“Welcome. Watchers tonight, or are you looking for something more?”

“Just watchers,” she replied easily, flipping open her wallet and handing the greeter a few folded bills. “For now.”

With a nod, the greeter opened the door. A gentle push from her on the small of his back nearly knocked the wind out of him. He willed one foot in front of the other and tried not to look at her. It’d burn otherwise. The small hallway they funneled through – passing by lingering patrons, satin at the edges of his vision – opened into a well-furnished lounge area cast in deep blue light. Seats and couches lined the walls, and populated the center, to face nooks – some closed by a draw curtain, some open – that were large enough to occupy two, maybe three people at a time.

And they were occupied. Hazy, shadowy, and glowing from being cast in monochrome – some things he could see, but not quite, unless invited closer.

“Alright so far?”

He started at the warmth of her breath against the shell of his ear. He didn’t realize he had stopped walking to take it all in. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Following your lead.”

“Good boy,” she murmured. Her hand glided up to his collar, where her finger hooked around the ring and tugged him along to a loveseat. She sat, releasing him.

He froze.

Bathed in the dark blue light, her ethereal form merely anchored itself to the cushion. She was beautiful. Untouchable. A goddess. With one arm stretched across the couch, she beckoned with a finger. “Come here.”

He felt himself slipping. Sand in an hourglass. Its familiar taste floated at the tip of his tongue, its warm pressure creeping up his temples. Its whisper had echoed in his ears throughout dinner, but now the pull in his chest – in his knees – was stronger. In her expression – stoic, cocky – she commanded him

submit.

She tipped her head to the side, giving him a slow, searing full-body scan. Regarding him. He stood silently – obediently. This is exactly what she wanted. He could taste her desire in the air, see it rolling off of her in waves. She leaned forward, pressed her free hand up against the side of his leg with a firm grip, up, up, up –

His eyes fluttered shut, but he held still.

She let out a low chuckle and continued until she reached his waistband. At an agonizing pace, she slipped her fingers one by one behind it, and all of his nerve endings screamed at the point where she touched him, begging for more,

until she tugged.

down.

Instinctively, he knelt beside her. She laughed, leaned forward again, caught him by the chin, ran the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip, made his heart do somersaults in his chest. This close, the smell of her perfume, thick and heavy, flooded his senses and mingled with the warm fog that crept against his temples. He inched forward on instinct – her lips were so close, he just needed permission.

“Pretty boy,” she whispered, then tilted his head away from hers, towards the booths. “Look.”

He followed the gentle pull of her grip. Tucked away in an alcove, obscured by half-drawn curtains, a burly butch – one hand against the wall, the other under her femme’s dress, circling. All he could see of the femme was one leg and hip, falling off the pillowed bench, and an arm clutched across its backing.

He fixated on their moving shadows from the distance, completely stilled and rigid there on the floor.

“Would you like to do that to me?” she asked.

He swallowed. Felt himself approaching a singularity. “Yes.”

She purred, slipped her hand down to the collar’s o-ring, the clinking metal drawing his focus. This close, her breath was hot against his cheek as he sat, transfixed. Watching. Her finger dragged up the center of his throat, the tip of her stiletto nail just barely digging in. Purposeful. A promise. “We’re just watchers for now, sweet boy.” Click. Click. Her heels clicked on the floor as parted her legs. “Come sit and watch.”

#slug.txt #thx beloved mutual for reminding me i have writing in my writing folder (crazy)

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pumpkin-spice-whump · 7 months ago

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Okay I'm super nervous to post this. This is a snippet of my novel I'm going to be publishing later this year (!!!!) And i want to share a bit here. It is an apocalyptic thriller heavy on captivity whump. This is a flashback to our main character being kidnapped and sold. He just got out of the back of a semi where he suffered heat exhaustion. This is one of the pieces I'm happy with so far, so sorry it's throwing you in in the middle!! But hopefully I'll post a bit more as I get further along editing!!

Looking back, Jack realized how close he was to death those first few days. He should’ve been in a hospital on an IV, but you know traffickers. They don’t care all that much about human lives.

Every so often the driver of the truck would wake him up and make him drink water, pee in a bucket. He’d blink behind the stupid duct tape blindfold, fumbling for a sense of direction. Sometimes he could hear people talking and walking beyond the walls and windows of the truck and he knew they were at a truck stop.

Faintly, he remembered seeing posters on the inside of stall doors from a trip he took for basketball last year. About the sign for help. Again, he wished he cared enough about kidnapping to remember any of that.

“Can… can I go to the bathroom?” he asked, hoping for a miracle.

Something thudded. “Bucket’s there kid. I’m not looking.”

Jack had no way to know that was true. It was in the back of his mind every time. “No. I gotta like… go.”

It thudded again. “Yeah. I know. Bucket’s here.”

“I’m not… Not in front of you.”

“That’s up to you. But if you shit your pants then you are definitely riding in the back, so keep that in mind.”

He probably would’ve followed Jack into the stall anyway.

Every time Jack was done, the man would give him pills to knock him out, and then wake him up again.

This time, he shook Jack awake and made him sit up. Jack’s head lolled back for a

moment before he could fully wake up. He was so weak and tired, there was no way he would’ve been able to walk to the bathroom anyway. The duct tape was ripped off and he inhaled a deep breath before the water bottle was pushed to his mouth.

“You gotta piss?” Jack shook his head when the bottle left. “Good.”

Then his hands started to tear away the tape over his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, tongue heavy in his mouth. He blinked hard against the bright light and was suddenly filled with hope at the idea that he was being let go. Maybe the man felt guilty and wanted to fix the error of his ways! However, after his eyes adjusted he realized that it wasn’t the afternoon sun in his eyes, but the overhead light in the cab.

“My leg of the trip is over. Keep quiet or I’ll put the tape back on got it?”

Jack nodded, too scared to do anything but follow along as the man led him - half carried him really - out of the truck and on the dark pavement.

They were at a rest stop, an abandoned one by the looks of it. The streetlight was off, the bathroom doors boarded closed. There was a broken swing on the overgrown playground.

There was only one other car in the parking lot. A man leaned against the hood. Tall, with a long face set with lines telling his age. Couldn’t be less than forty, maybe fifty. He was wearing a dirty jacket and jeans, like he’d been working outside all day. A baseball cap covered what looked to be graying hair.

The driver let go of Jack and he fell to his knees without the support. A hiss of pain escaped him as loose gravel dug into his knees.

“Will it do?” the driver asked.

The new man looked Jack over, never moving from his spot leaned against his car. “He will.” He reached into his rolled down window and pulled out a manilla folder, tossing it to the driver.

Jack felt like his skull had been cracked open and ice cold water was poured over his skeleton as he realized what was going on. It was a trade. A deal. A traffik. Is that what it’s called? He was being sold like an animal.

The driver took a peak in the envelope, nodding satisfactorily. “Will you be needing anything else from me?”

“Not at all.”

“Pleasure doing business then.” The driver turned to leave but Jack threw himself at his feet suddenly, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“No!” he cried, desperate to not be taken even further from home.

Even though he’d already been passed through two people and driven who the hell knows where, as soon as he got in that man’s car it was final. No more traveling. He was going home with this guy. How would he call for help then? How would he get away? He was taken and now being sold to -- to who?! Maybe he really will be raped. Or experimented on or cut up and sold for parts or--

“No please!” he begged. “Don’t, please I wanna go home! I wanna go home!”

Hands gripped his waist and he tried like hell to kick out, to fight back. He even tried to bite at him, but only got open air. Jack was just too frail at the moment. There was no way he stood a chance against this strong stranger.

The trunk opened and Jack threw his feet up, attempting to stop himself from getting in, panic enveloping him once again. “No! Don’t make me get in there! I won’t be able to breathe!”

His knees were kicked in and he fell right in, arms bound uselessly.

“Feel free to scream as much as you like,” the new man said as he slammed the door shut.

Jack did. He screamed and kicked so much that he did run out of air and passed out. When he woke, the trunk was open again, cool night air filling his lungs and making him cough.

The man threw a bag over his head before roughly taking him by the arm and dragging him out of the trunk. He ignored all of Jack’s tearfilled demands to be let go immediately.

“Some stairs now. I recommend you tread lightly if you don’t want to be thrown down.”

He did, taking shallow breaths like he would be able to hear the stairs better if he did. The bag was taken off of him after another short walk at the bottom, once he was pushed to his knees.

“You can call me Mr. Reeder,” the man said, smiling down at him. “And this is your new home.”

That first night was one of the hardest. Jack had to try to go to sleep himself for the first time, with no drugs or panic to aid him. The only thing he knew to compare what he was feeling to was when he went to summer camp when he was 10. First time away from his mom, like really away. He couldn’t call her when he wanted to leave, couldn’t hear her voice. It’s all encompassing, realizing that you are isolated. That you are alone in a way you never have been before.

But even at summer camp Jack knew that he was going to go home in a week. This? There’s no end to this. Jack might… die here. Alone in the basement without seeing his mom ever again…

He buried his face in his pillow and screamed and screamed. When he was too exhausted to keep going, he curled on his side and imagined he was in his mom’s bed with her by his side.

#whump #kidnapping #i really am nervous for this #it gets more interesting i promise this is just one part im pretty okay with #it can do with another couple rounds of editing but im impatient #anyway tell me what you think!

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nightcityace · 12 days ago

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Ive had this one sitting in my folder for ages and barely remembered to post it! I cant believe its already Halloween, I had planned a bunch of pics for October, but then I got SUPER BUSY very suddenly because I moved! (I'd say that gives me more time for VP but also its dragon age day!)

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp77 #cp77 photomode #cyberpunk oc: sunny #viktor vektor #misty olszewski

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solitary-cutie · 8 months ago

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Darkness to our light. Part II

Part I

Part III

Part IV

prompt: you and coriolanus are married, it's unbearable for you, but it will all end soon

contains: dark, manipulative, controlling coriolanus. fem!reader.

And so you are sitting in the living room waiting for the only person ypu could talk to - the piano teacher. Sharing with desire to continue your once neglected studies, Coryo did not fail to fulfill whim of his better half and help Her. He would always help, even without asking. No matter if you needed this intervention. He would spend all the money on your wants without even mentioning it, as if forgetting, deliberately ignoring any checks in the stores, but you clearly knew that this wastefulness was another yoke around your neck, because one should be grateful. Especially if the checks came in the mail, and the history of purchases served him in calculating the spending for the month.

“Hello. Hey, you guys quiet today? Helpers’s a bit tense today. Not even tea! Can you believe it? Didn't offer! - The teacher laughed, putting out a folder with notes, a pencil, an eraser and an orange leather notebook from her bag on the snow-white piano.”

“Oh yes, He's planning a dinner party, everyone's getting ready. He's inviting coworkers, his sister. He's looking forward to the promotion.”

“Oh, wow. Who's coming from yours?”

You didn't say anything, was ashamed of yourself. “No, it is his night.” Silence. “Maybe you'll come?” Open hope in the voice of her student, almost her age.

“When? I had plans, but I'd stop by.”

“It starts at 7:00. I'll be waiting, you know! You can come when it's convenient for you.”

A weightless touch, as if you'd brushed something off the back of her hand. You ran your eyes around the room. He's not home. The teacher softened.

“Okay, I'll try.” She finally sits down on a nearby chair. “Come on, show me how you've been practicing. Have you tried to put both hands together yet?”

“I tried, but no luck.”

“Did you play the metronome?”

“Yeah, I got more confused.”

“All right, I'll do the math. Go ahead. E-e-e, one and, two and--“

The game began, with mistakes and quick, hurried edits.

“You've changed.” Said the teacher, stopping counting out the rhythm, because the student was already helping herself with the silent movement of her lips.

“He says the same thing to me.” She chorused the rhythm.

“You're not so much flirtatious, laughing. The author's depression? When was the last time you sat down at the pen?” She smiled.

“I miss it. Okay, wait, what's the best way to play this? I forgot.”

The teacher intercepted her hands and began playing the obscure part, counting out the rhythm aloud with intonation highlighting that "And three, And four, And one...".

“You're unhappy.”

“No, why?”

“That's not a question. I can recommend a psychologist, the best woman I know. She helped me let go of my resentments.”

“I'm not resentful.”

“Teach you to love yourself, so you don't deny those resentments, but accept them. Appreciate yourself, don't deny being alone, but accept being one with yourself. You are not alone, know you can walk away from where you want to walk away from.” The teacher did not realize how she had pushed the piano aside and how she had moved on to passionate speeches. She had been spared the resentment, but not the desire to save.

You looked around the room again out of habit.

“At least he doesn't hit you?”

“No, God, of course not.” You caught the doubt in her eyes and a second frown furrowed her brow. “No, seriously, I wouldn't stand for that. I'm not leaving him. I can't.”

“There's no word for "can't."

“I mean, what dictionary can I give you to back that up? I don't even want to leave. We are one and the same, and he won't just let me go. The only way I'm getting out of here is with my feet up. If I'm lucky and he dies before I do, I'll have a few years of pleasure.” She smiled, starting the composition from the beginning.

“In the left hand hurry a little. And how can you reason like that about a man you're married to? And if the children come, what will you do?”

“The later they come, the better, God forbid now.”

“Does he want them now?”

You hesitated, not stopping the game. It was embarrassing. Again.

“Well he hasn't talked about them yet, though I don't know how he plans to.”

“So even your body doesn't belong to you? You don't talk about your plans, not your plans, but his.”

“My soul doesn't even belong to me. Look, my arms are tired, can I take a little break?” Nod. “What's the best way to pedal here?”

“First learn to control both hands.”

Silence.

You wonder if you could call it a pun. If your body and even the imperishable substance of your being belongs to your husband, a white-haired angel raised in hell and invited into the ether of paradise, a world of powerful, fully-endowed people, will you be able to control what you lost access to on the date that the calendar refers to as the "Anniversary of Dating"?

The remaining hour of class passed in silence, resulting in the learning of a new sonata, even with the use of a pedal to stretch the sound, giving it a smooth flow from one bar to the next.

“I have a question here: when will you finally learn the bass clef? Will you stop signing notes?” The teacher mocked, marking in the diary the next lesson for January.

“It's a rhetorical question.” You looked at the Interlocutor. “Oh man, I don't like that bass clef, I can't memorize it. The only thing I know is what the C note looks like. That's it.”

“Don't forget the "B."

“Oh yeah, and then..." She made a long road to nowhere with her hand.

“And then let the Snow land on top.” He stood at the white archway that opened the living room, leaning lightly against the blue wall with gilded patterns and trees.

You shuddered, nerves to no avail, you were easily frightened, which could not be said of your teacher, - a girl strong-willed. Nevertheless, the fright laid a heavy stone on her heart, sinking it into her heels, and she dropped her pencil and, looking at him confusedly, hurried to pick it up.

“I didn't mean to disturb you, much less frighten you.” The ice-cold eyes flashed over each of the girls, burning their insides with cold.

Coriolanus knew you were partial to this pianist. From the first time you met her, He had noticed the glint in your eyes. Gross, He didn't approve of it, but He also knew it was certainly not worth worrying about. You amuse yourself as best you can from lack of socialization with Him. Yes, maybe you complain about Him, suffer, but you won't leave Him because you don’t want to. These reflections might have reassured Him if He had once experienced a semblance of even doubt, let alone anxiety.

“Ginny, my wife and I are organizing a dinner party tonight. We'd love for you to come.” His eyes darted to you, looking at your teacher. What will you do? If you start coaxing her “friend”, this conversation never happened between you, but if you walk up to Him and...

“What a great idea!” You whispered, flying up to your husband and hugging him by the forearm. He smiles, it all became clear, you had already invited her, but was it scary to ask Him? “I was afraid to invite Ms. Ring because of the possibility of rejection.”

Now you are on His side, snuggling up to Him to get hers. Manipulative. And who are you trying to bend to your will is unclear.

“Yes, of course, thank you for the invitation, I'd love to come. But I'm afraid I'm busy, so I won't be able to make it to the beginning of the evening.”

“I didn't tell you the time, in case you get there.”

You both looked at each other. The pianist was confused.

“Dinner starts at 6:00 or 7:00 in the evening. Ms. Ring apparently skips a lot of dinner.” She tried to put the question into an impromptu justification for the two of them, but it came out badly. The answer to his line didn't work anyway.

“It starts at seven o'clock, but knowing some of the guests, they'll be a little later.” He looked at his wife. “Play the new composition you've learned for me.”

“We haven't played it all the way through yet. We need time.”

“Play it.” Demand…

#coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo x you #fanfic #coryo snow #president coriolanus snow #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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