#if you had reached for an m&ms at the wrong time you would’ve missed the entirety of the show’s Bi Rep completely

[musclesandhammering]

True that bi characters in m/f pairings are valid, but like…

Are we just going to ignore the fact that tv writers in the last 10 or so years have figured out that they can continue to pander to homophobes and simultaneously get queer rep brownie points by never showing any actual queer content at all, having a character in 52 different m/f relationships, never once alluding to them being into same sex stuff… and then just giving a one sentence easily-edited-out vague confirmation of them being bisexual?

You guys are so starved for any confirmed queer rep at all that you’re perfectly happy letting film companies get away with this shit and it’s frustrating as hell honestly.

[detectivedreameater]

Tis The Season || Solo

CONTENT: Child abuse mentions, parental death mentions

The first time Marley ever sat down at a table for the holiday, she was alone. 

Her original foster parents– the Caplan’s– had been Jewish and didn’t celebrate Christmas. Marley hardly knew what the holiday was about, so when all the other kids had scrambled to the toy box to claim their one gift for the holiday, Marley had stayed behind and watched with wide, intent eyes. A boy close to her unwrapped his gift and found himself with a new racecar toy, giggling happily as he zoomed away with it. Marley didn’t understand. Why were the kids getting things?

One of the workers ushered her up to the bin and she looked down inside. All the other kids had their toys and were moving away– none of them seemed to like Marley, and she didn’t really know why. She hadn’t hurt them like she’d hurt Madeline. She didn’t want to hurt any of them. 

The last gift in the bin was small. Marley reached in and grabbed it as the worker smiled at her and urged her, again, to open it. Marley tugged at the hastily made wrapping and tore it open, finding a small, plastic dolly inside. It wasn’t any bigger than her palm, and the hair was frayed. It was obviously used, a donation, even Marley knew that, only five years old. And she hated the doll, she wanted the racecar. The worker frowned and told Marley she should be grateful she got anything at all, some kids didn’t get anything. But Marley wondered if maybe that would’ve been better. At least, then, she wouldn’t have been disappointed.

The next time Marley sat down for the winter holiday, she sat down at a real table, with real people, and real decorations lining the walls. This time, she sat with eight other kids besides herself, a house full of young kids with nowhere to belong. Marley shared a room with the grumpy kid at the other end of the table, and the girl three seats down who always wore her pants backwards because she claimed it made her walk faster. But eight kids meant it was first come first serve at any and all means, including the holiday. As Miss Mary set the table, though, Marley found herself with a different hunger. One that ached more and more these days. 

She watched all the other kids devour the food as she pushed mashed potatoes around her plate. Everyone always talked about how full they felt and how great the food tasted, and Marley always wondered why she never felt that way after eating. She glanced around the table, slumped in her chair, watching as people cleared their plates and set down their forks and looked happy and satisfied. She wished she could feel that way.

After dinner, all the kids rushed out into the living room and began tearing into their stockings. All the kids got the exact same thing– a bag of candy and a little plastic toy that was a car for the boys and a puppy for the girls. But gifts were only for the good kids, and Marley hadn’t been good this year. Marley had never been good. So she sat, legs curled to her chest, on the couch in the corner as she watched, and waited, and wondered what was wrong with her. 

Later, when things had finally calmed down, the girl with backwards pants came over to Marley and held out her hand, a single foil wrapped candy in it. “Here,” she said. She was munching on a fun sized pack of M&Ms and Marley looked up at her, hiding red eyes behind sunglasses, before tentatively plucking the candy from her hand. 

“Why do you always wear those sunglasses?” she asked and Marley glanced away as she clumsily unwrapped the candy.

“I have an eye problem,” she answered quietly.

“Oh. Okay. You’re kinda weird,” the other girl answered, moving on from her M&M’s to grab a Starburst. “Merry X-mas.” And then she walked away.

Marley blinked. “Thanks for the candy,” she murmured as she popped the chocolate kiss in her mouth. She did really like candy. And though she’d been grateful then, she was not grateful later, when they were both punished for the other girl’s act of kindness. Marley wondered if this woman was the one who had killed any desire inside of her to be kind to others. She was taught, so early on, that kindness only begot pain. 

Most holidays after that went the same way. Most of them were spent in group homes over foster homes, but it made little difference to Marley. Each year less and less kids received gifts, and Marley mostly spent them locked away in her room, because she was bad. She was bad. She made her roommates sick, and she misbehaved during classes, and she woke up screaming in the night so much the doctors had put restraints on her bed. And once they realized they didn’t know what to do with her anymore, and she’d been sent to the group home for troubled teens, holidays stopped being a thing altogether. No one cared about the troubled kids without families or friends.

The next time she sat down for a holiday dinner, she was seventeen and she was surrounded by other mara. And it was supposed to be a good time, a happy time, and they were all supposed to be family, but as Marley sat at the table and looked around, she realized she’d never felt so out of place.

As it turned out, mara didn’t really celebrate these human holidays. They had a culture of their own, and worshipped Samhain as the most important holiday, the season of giving, over any other. Marley had missed that with them, she’d only found them a month or so ago, but they’d tried to welcome her in with open arms, even if she was an outcast amongst her own kind. 

So what did a mara, who didn’t fit in with humans or other of her own kind do?

Marley never really figured it out. Instead, she removed herself from either world and lived in a lonely, isolated in between. She told herself it was better this way. A monster for monsters. She could live with that.

Marley never sat down to another holiday dinner with anyone again, until last year. And it wasn’t even really dinner. Erin had come over to Marley’s place to help her with organizing– her head was still in bad condition then, and her organizational method of sticky notes plastered everywhere hadn’t been working well. 

After they finished, they were just supposed to have a drink together and watch some stupid movies, but then Erin had given Marley a gift. It was the first gift Marley had ever received from someone personally for Christmas, and it sounded pathetic every time she thought about it. But she still couldn’t help it– she had cried, just a little, blinking away the tears as soon as they’d come as she pulled out each piece of the intricate gift Erin had gotten for her. Marley had felt bad, she hadn’t gotten Erin anything, she’d never thought to get anyone gifts, really. And that day had been their first kiss, though it was slightly tainted. Sometimes she wished she would have just confessed her feelings then and saved all the pain and trouble breaking up with Anita had caused her. But, she supposed, it would have just caused someone else pain, because life was just a cycle of pain.

This year, though, Marley had wanted things to be different. She’d gotten Erin’s gift early– VIP tickets to a new escape room in Augusta, cemetery themed, and a puzzle box, that once Erin solved, would reveal a hidden compartment with a necklace. Lined with silver and inlaid with a ruby and a charm, that would always tell her where Marley was if she asked it. 

Now, the puzzle box sat on the kitchen table, next to it the envelope with the tickets. Next to those, that handle of tequila Nell had brought her the other night. It was nearly empty. 

This holiday, Marley sat down at the table, and she was alone. 

She spent too long staring at the empty space in front of her before she realized she didn’t want to be alone. She ached to not be alone.

So, Marley picked up her phone and dialed the number and waited for the other line to pick up.

The young girl’s voice greeted her kindly. She always sounded so eager to talk to Marley. It made her crack a smile, despite the wetness in her eyes.

“You wanna go see a movie?” she asked into the phone. “Maybe catch some dinner after. On me.” 

Of course it was a yes. Marley hung up the phone and smiled to herself, standing up from the table. Her mood sobered just a bit as she looked at the gift sitting atop it, the smile fading from her face as if it were a ghost.

She made one stop on her way to pick up Cass. She stood beneath the tree in the cemetery where she’d found Erin sitting, almost exactly two weeks ago. Set the gift down under it and stood still for a moment. A gentle breeze blew across, rustling her hair, as if in answer to her unasked question.

“Merry Christmas, Erin,” she said so quietly, perhaps even the wind didn’t hear. “I love you.” 

This time, when Marley sat down, there was someone beside her. And this time, when Marley said the words again-- Merry Christmas-- she hoped she’d be saying them again next year, to the same person. 

This time, Marley had at least one thing to look forward to next holiday season.

[theficplug]

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 ℑ𝔫 𝔄 𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢 - 𝔒𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯 𝔇𝔦𝔞𝔷

Warnings: violence maybe ? none yet really (but i mean it’s my writing so yall know smut is coming lol so 18+)

Oscar Diaz x black reader

You slowly open one eye to look at the clock on your nightstand reading 2:43 in the morning. At this time of night you knew it could only be one person. 

You quickly threw on your cobalt blue robe accented with the floral pattern over your sweats and bralette and padded through your dark decent sized studio apartment towards the loud wrapping at your door. 

"Rough night?" you ask as you give the battered man standing in your doorway a small smile to mask the feeling of worry and dread sitting in the pit of your stomach while taking in all of his wounds.

“If I knew you were coming I would’ve worn something better than this big ass bonnet and old sweats.” you say trying to ease the tension as you reach out for him.

His usual plump lips were slightly busted and the freshly formed bruises were beginning to take shape onto his cheekbone. Your eyes wander to his side and you notice that there must be a deeper wound soaking onto the now crimson stained once white vest top. 

You place his arm over your shoulders and let him lean into you as you help him inside and onto your kitchen table before rushing to the bathroom to grab supplies and towels.

To say that you were a stranger to putting Oscar back together when he fell apart would be a lie.

Since you two were younger you’d always been the one to grab an ice pack for him from the nurse’s office when he’d get into it with the kids on the yard over something they’d say to you that he didn’t like. Or like the time you were helping him up off the ground when he was first initiated. That was the first time you’d ever been that angry and sad in your life. 

It was hard for you to accept at first. Your family came from rivaling parts of town, but a few wrong decisions and moves from your family and you ended up living across the street from Oscar. Your father and his father decided over the years that they had one common ground. Their common ground was to protect the block so they came up with a sort of truce if you could call it that. Down the line Oscar’s father ended up going to prison and basically all hell broke loose.

Life changed when Oscar had to step up and eventually become Spooky and you had to make a decision to leave Freeridge to later come back and help. You left for university a few towns over to become a doctor. It took a lot of years of discipline in medical school and a lot of all-nighters, but here you were back in Freeridge to give a voice to black women in the medical field after noticing black mothers were dying during and after childbirth at an alarming rate (not being taken seriously by their non-black doctors usually played a huge part in this statistic).

"I've seen better days." he says, giving you a half hearted chuckle and you nod along listening to his voice but his tired and purple-y pink eyes spoke louder than his words. 

 This was him. He never said much, not even the day you two met in middle school. 

Flashback 

You just wouldn’t stop talking when you walked over to him sitting by himself under a tree eating his own food. You even asked him if he liked anime and let him watch Inuyasha on your ipod.

“You make your own lunch?” you would ask him as he’d nod and take the bag out of his backpack. 

“Yeah, I ain’t got nobody to do all the shit like on the shows where they have pancakes waiting on the counter for breakfast. And like the brown paper lunch bag with the ham sandwich and apple slices in it or whatever they put in it. And I don’t like the stuff they serve. I wake up early anyways so I just make my own shit and something for Cesar to eat in the mornings.” he says laughing and laying out the little containers on his backpack one with mac and cheese in it and another with what seems like a hamburger patty.

“I get you. My parents work a lot to try to pay off some of my fathers “expenses” as they put it so. I usually just get whatever nasty food they’re serving up in the caf.” you say as you snuggle in next to him and pull open your chocolate milk carton. 

Ever since then you two met everyday under that tree in the courtyard during lunchtime. He eventually started bringing a container for you too so that you could eat “something good for once” as he would say. 

His intentions were always good at heart but they at times were clouded by his rage.

He wouldn’t, almost as if he couldn’t, let himself feel the hurt and process the trauma. He didn’t have the time to process it all because he was always thinking of his next move for himself and for Cesar.

His father left and his mother was never around as you learned quickly when you’d spend hours at a time at his home sometimes while your parents were off taking care of business. It was Oscar doing the grocery shopping, making sure Cesar never fell behind with his homework and classwork, and that he knew that he was loved. 

He was left behind to take care of his own business. You met Cesar pretty early on when he’d chase you around with random beetles he’d find in the yard and put in requests for you to bring him Gogurts and m&ms from your house. He liked you instantly and took it rather hard when you left for uni. 

You offered to take them both with you, but “Spooky” had already built a “life” for himself that Oscar didn’t get to walk away from.

Present

You move around the kitchen to sterilize all of your supplies and lay them on the table next to him before cutting the shirt open to take a look at how deeply the weapon seared into him.

Your eyes moved up his body following the patterns of the bruises, cuts, and scrapes before meeting his eyes. You looked at you for a moment before looking away from your gaze and nodding to give you the okay to do what you have to do to fix him up.

You knew that it was better to never ask questions about his escapades.Which was fine because you weren’t sure if you ever wanted the real answer. It was almost a routine for him to come visit you from time to time. Whether it was to hook-up or just because he needed someone to talk to because it seemed like he could trust no one besides you, Cesar, and Jose. 

He stopped coming around after you told him you found someone. Safe to say that someone didn’t give a reason as to why he didn’t want to date you anymore after only 3 weeks and tried to avoid eye contact with you at the clinic.

You pour him a shot before pressing a soft kiss to his lips and proceeding with cleaning and closing up the deepest wound. You bandage the first one before moving onto the rest.

“Duele como una perra (hurts like a bitch).” he groans before you give him a quiet “i know” and press another gentle kiss to his lips.

 Around an hour later you were in bed with him after ordering food for the both of you. Your fingers tracing over his temples softly trying to get him to fall asleep, but he insisted on staying up and catching up with you for the last month when you haven’t had a chance to talk. More so kissing on you and loving on you when he should be resting.

“You’re not Spooky to me, you know. You’re still the same person who ditched so you didn’t have to participate in dissection day. You’re still the same person who taught me what the difference between a prawn and a shrimp. I mean I’m not blind to the fact that things have changed. Cesar calls me from time to time. I know what’s going on. I’m just saying, let’s go. Let’s leave. Let’s start over. Don’t you want that? We can go to Hawaii or Canada. Somewhere we can just start over. We could convince them that you’ve died from these wounds and they won’t even look for you.You know I can make it happen. I’ll still practice and you can carve a new life for you and for Cesar.” you say as you run your fingers over his chest.

He stops kissing on your neck to look at you for a moment considering that your impulsive plan might actually work before shaking his head.

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it. You know this isn’t what I wanted, but I knew that  eventually it’d catch up with me. I just didn’t want Cesar wrapped up in all of this bullshit. I don’t know. Maybe it could work. But you know if this goes bad-” he says trailing off and you give him a quiet “i know” before wiping at a stray tear from his cheek.

You wrap your arms around him and slide your hand down to rest on his stomach gently.

“I’ve got something for you.” you say quietly before moving his hand from your thigh and reaching into the nightstand 

“Maybe this will finalize your decision, Oscar.” you speak softly while placing the ultrasound in his hand and watch as his expressive eyebrows scrunch before it dawns on him. 

He looks from you to the apricot shaped grey blob on the photo and back to you while nodding.

“I knew it. I knew something was different about you this time. Your skin is glowing more. You’ve got a different energy.” he says as he leans up wincing at the pain and wraps his arms around you to the best of his ability without aggravating the wound on his side. 

“ I wanted to wait until I knew for sure before I told you. 9 weeks today. Can you believe it? That’s why we have to do this. You deserve happiness and peace too Oscar. I can see you with your own restaurant. You changing lives by donating a portion of your food to those in need. Me with my practice for women of colour. We could even get Cesar in university or a trade school. Whatever he’d want to do. He knows he has my full support.” you plead to him as you trace over his cheekbone and take his hands into yours.

“Alright but we gotta do this precisely. There’s no room for mistakes-” .

@chaneajoyyy @blackmissfrizzle @theogbadbitch @spookys-girl @ceo-of-baby @heybriheyyy @sweetpeachjones @mbakuwife @wholelotta-melanin @ambitionwood @bigchoose @teardropzih @theesotericqueen @mirandkimy @doitforthevine67 @dasia21​ @sinfully-dope​ @love17us @amyhennessyhouse

(lemme know if i missed anybody for the tag list. i know this intro is long as hell but if yall like it i’ll keep writing on this one lol) 

[aizawaorkuroo]

on the house (chapter 4) - black coffee

Ship: Yagi Toshinori x reader

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: After weeks of dancing around it, Toshinori asks you out.

Warnings: Language, smut, overstimulation, oral sex (both M and F receiving) Size kink (kinda), some nasty hard cold brew, Reader has a vagina

AN: Once again, this blog is 18+!! also, this is the longest chapter i’ve written and uhh over half of it is smut so im nervous grewfwsd 

OTH Masterlist

_______________________________

Clear, blue skies hang above Musutafu, a promise of the approaching summer. The birds chirp pleasantly, and the sun weaves its way through leaves that hang onto branches. Normally, you would’ve been happy to update the chalkboard sign that sits outside Sweet Bean. But today the warmth and the people wondering blissfully about appear to be mocking you.

You hadn’t seen Toshinori since he had walked you home from the police station. Since you had invited him to go upstairs to your apartment with you. A painful heat overtakes your blood, and you wince. Had you been too forward? And while he may have chosen to go home, you still thought he was at least interested. Or that he would at least stop by the cafe.

Aiko wisely doesn’t mention the broken piece of chalk your holding when you walk behind the counter. She does send Suga a knowing look, one that you pretend to not see. You spend the next hour fumbling through orders and dropping stirring spoons and espresso cups. It’s only after you burn yourself on the espresso maker that Aiko pulls you into the back, and glares at you with her hands on her hips.

“Y/N. What’s up with you?” You flush under her gaze, looking anywhere but her eyes. It’s embarrassing - no, mortifying - that you got rejected by someone you both knew. And he still plagues your mind. If you didn’t tell Aiko, at least a shred of dignity would remain.

“And don’t you dare tell me nothing’s wrong,” she chimes. “I know something’s up.” Her gaze softens, and she reaches out to gently grab your arm. “You can tell me anything, y’know?”

Your resolve crumbles immediately. The words tumble out of your mouth; the entire time your stomach feels like it’s doing flips. You’re expecting a laugh or a sympathetic pat, but when you glance up, Aiko’s giving you an incredulous look. Her mouth opens, before closing. You squirm as she makes up her mind about what to say. You’re not really sure when Aiko’s opinion became so important, but it feels like her next words will decide your future.

“You are an idiot.”

You freeze. That was not what you had been expecting. Not even in the slightest. But what did she mean? Should you have not invited him up? Was it wrong to get a crush on a customer? One who knew a lot of regulars? Aiko lifts a finger, stopping your brain from falling off the deep end.

“He clearly likes you,” her voice rings out. “It was obvious when I met him, and based on what you said, there’s no way he doesn’t. You’re just overthinking.” You blink at her dumbly, trying to process. Of course it makes sense that you had spent too much time thinking about it. But how could you not?

“And if you’re worried about him not coming in recently. Well, people get busy. And he’s not a regular. Yet.” She offers you a wink, and you smile softly. Your friend’s words did little to ease the tumultuous waves in your stomach, but they were enough for now. Enough for you to focus.

When you return behind the bar, Suga gives you an uncomfortable nod and a thumbs up. You change your mind. This is still mortifying. Being friends with your coworkers is horrible. But by the time the bell rings, and you see a familiar face you feel lighter.

“Sato! Welcome back! How are you?” you call out. He smiles largely and waves excitedly at you.

“I’m pretty good! How’ve ya been?” You chuckle at his enthusiasm but wave for him to come browse the cakes Suga’s displayed. The two of you awe over the selection when the sound of someone clearing their throat brings you back to reality. Behind Sato are a group of girls that look like they’re from his class. You grin, feeling the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

“Sato, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” He flushes lightly at your question before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Right, these are some of my friends from school. Yaoyorozu, Asui, Uraraka, and Hagakure.” He gestures to each one, and an easy warmth settles over you as they offer polite waves. “I let them try some of the last cake I got from here, and they wanted to come.” You can’t stop the giggle that builds in your chest, before nodding your head.

“Of course, of course. Suga’s baked goods are legendary,” you say loudly enough for Suga to hear from the back. “We’ve also got plenty of drinks on and off the menu. Aiko, will you take their orders?” Aiko skips to the register before chattering away about specials, iced vs. hot, and different sizes. You wink at the girls before turning your attention back to Sato. “What are we thinking today?”

He sheepishly shifts on his feet, avoiding your eyes.

“I’m actually gonna have to wait until next time to get the full cake.” You purse your lips before holding your hand out. He flounders for a second before handing you his rewards card. Ah. He’s an item behind. You stamp his card twice, nod, and hand it back.

“Get whatever you want for you and your friends.” He looks at you blankly, before a large grin spreads across his face.

“Aw yeah! Thanks Ms. Y/N! You’re the best!” you shake your head, nose crinkling at his praise.

“I’m really not. Go grab a table, and I’ll bring your order to you.” He grins up at you before gesturing for his friends to follow him. Aiko turns to you, a small smirk gracing her face.

“That was sweet Y/N, but look alive. There are a few surprisingly complicated orders,” she muses. You nod before jumping into action. With your stress gone, the work is easy and familiar. When you drop off their drinks, they thank you excitedly, and you float back behind the counter.

After that, you’re in the zone. All your bumbling ends, and you’re so focused, that you don’t notice when another familiar face enters the Sweet Bean. You don’t notice as Aiko takes his order. It’s only when you turn around and he hunches down to smile at you that you notice.

You blink stupidly at Toshinori, a warmth rushing through you before you take a step back. The weight that had just been absolved doubles down on you. You stutter out a greeting before crossing your arms in mortification.

“Hi,” you murmur, trying to silence the chaotic butterflies within you. A sharp grin pulls at his features.

“I’ve been meaning to come by, but uh, I got a bit busy,” he says rather sheepishly. You can feel Aiko’s aggressive ‘I told you so’ stare on your back. You keep in a groan, knowing that she’ll hold this over you forever.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “I uh, missed seeing you.” You squeeze your arms, the admission making you feel dizzy. Toshinori’s blushes deeply, and warmth pools within you.

“Oh, well.” He rubs the back of his head looking awkwardly at the counter before sheepishly making eye contact. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me.” His gaze is soft, sending shivers up and down your spine. He looks down again. “If you want? Whenever you’re free?” You take a breath trying to center your thoughts.

“Well, I have work tomorrow night,” you respond. You furrow your brows, trying to think of a time you’re free, but Aiko buts in before you can.

“Oh, don’t worry. Suga and I will cover for you. You’re good tomorrow night.” Her smile is almost cruel, but you flush at her help. Suga’s head pokes out of the kitchen, and he nods in confirmation.

“Thanks guys. Aiko, aren’t you supposed to be getting to your night classes soon.” Her eyes widen, and she sets down Toshinori’s coffee before speeding off. You turn back to Toshinori, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Then, tomorrow night? Do you remember where I live? It’s unit 506.” He nods, a smirk tugging on his face.

“I can pick you up, at 7? Is that all right?”

You nod stupidly, unable to contain yourself any longer, a grin blossoming on your face. He backs up, heading towards the door while nodding at you, his face mirroring yours.

You press your lips together in a line to contain a giggle before you hold up his coffee, and a look of realization crosses his face. He steps forward to grab the cup, and you try not to flush too much as his fingers brush against yours.

“What’d you get?” you ask. You don’t mean to sound teasing, but sometimes, these things are out of your control. He flushes and avoids your gaze.

“A black coffee.” You nod and make a noise of approval.

“Sometimes, you wanna get straight to the point. I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns bright red at your words, and you grin.

“Right. Tomorrow, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbles.

He waves at you and backs up again, giving you one last nod before turning around. He passes by the group of students who are all watching with large eyes. They smile as he waves at them. He gives you one last lazy smile before the door closes behind him. Suga slings an arm around your shoulder letting out a small sigh.

“So are Aiko and I gonna get paid overtime?” You groan and lightly punch his stomach.

_______________________________

You flutter around your apartment, cleaning up mindlessly as you distract yourself. You still had thirty minutes to kill until Toshinori was supposed to get here. The butterflies that had started their flight in your stomach floated up and into your veins. You had been ready for an hour already. The night before, you had been so nervous that you picked out an outfit already. Which left you with too much free time now.

You had wanted to stay at Sweet Bean for a little while longer, but Aiko had refused, forcing you to leave. After making sure she knew Present Mic’s order, and that Suga was really okay with staying late, you went home. And now you’re counting down the minutes until it’s 7:00 PM.

You pace around your apartment, before landing in front of the mirror. You eye your reflection and clutch your phone tightly. In an instant, you nervously hit Aiko’s contact.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” Aiko cautiously asks.

“Aiko,” you hiss. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I can’t do this.” You scrutinize your skin, every flaw standing out.

“Y/N. I told you this already. He likes you!” she chirps. You sigh uncommittedly. “Remember, he asked you out. Not the other way around.” You hum at her words, her voice making you feel calmer. “Don’t worry! Enjoy your date. Suga and I have everything under control,” she says confidently. You hear a crash in the background and Aiko says her goodbyes and hangs up too fast for you to say anything. You stare blankly at your phone before shaking your head. Nothing you could do about that now.

When a soft knock finally resounds through the living room of your apartment, the butterflies you had just corralled take flight again. You jump to open the door, revealing a flustered Toshinori. He looks good, you think to yourself, letting your eyes trail up and down his form. He’s holding his suit jacket over his shoulder, a tie loosely hangs around his neck. His slacks match the dark color of his jacket.

His eyes run appreciatively up and down your figure, making the butterflies slip into your blood. He grins down at you, handing you a small bouquet of flowers that he’s holding with his other hand.

“You look beautiful. Got these for you.” You flush at the gesture and accept them, biting your lip.

“Thanks. You don’t look half bad yourself,” you say softly. “I’ll put these in water, and then we’ll be good to go.”

He patiently waits for you, and it’s not until you’re walking outside with him that you realize you don’t know where you’re going. Looking down at his hand, in a moment of bravery, you reach down and grab it. He smiles at you softly before lightly squeezing.

“Where are we going, Toshinori?” His grin sharpens, and he eyes you gently.

“Just a place I like going. Wanted to share it with you.” You flush but lean into his arm.

He ends up taking you to a small restaurant that’s tucked away in the corner of Musutafu. You’re seated in a booth across from him, and it all just feels fake. Toshinori is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful in ways that make your stomach flip.

When you ask him about the students you saw yesterday, he flushes and is clearly embarrassed, but it's obvious that he cares about them. He gets a soft faraway look in his eyes, one that melts your heart. He asks about Aiko and Suga, and your nose scrunches up at the thought of Aiko messing up Yamada’s weekly order.

You pick at your food, taking a few bites here and there. In all honesty, you’re too nervous to eat. All you can think about is how Toshinori’s hand is resting against yours on the table.

Everything is absolutely perfect. It feels too good to be true like at any second the air around you will collapse and you’ll wake up from this perfect dream.

When the bill comes, you make an attempt to pay, but the look he sends you has you backing down. There’s the promise of something more, something that sets your blood on fire, and makes your thoughts syrupy.

The walk back to your apartment is heavy. You know what you want. You’ve wanted it for a while. It’s just a matter of what he wants. So you end up back where you were, standing on the steps that lead up to your building. You lightly tug at his hair, and a smile forms on his face.

“Do you want to come up? For some coffee?” you murmur. He licks his lips, sending jolts to your core. He nods slowly, letting you pull him into your building. You fumble with your keys, trying to open the door, but all you can think about is how close Toshinori is. When you finally get the door open, you let him in and head straight for the fridge.

“I’ve got some uh, hard cold brew here. If you’re okay trying that. Make yourself at home,” you call over your shoulder. He nods before settling into the couch. You bring over the glasses, trying to ignore the way your hands are shaking. He accepts it graciously, taking a small sip. His face screws up, and you feel laughter bubble up in your chest.

“Yea, it kind of an acquired taste. Got it at a coffee convention. Sorry about that,” you apologize. He shakes his head, and sets his glass on the coffee table in front of him.

“It’s fine. A coffee convention?” he asks, his words dripping in humor. You flush and look away.

“Yes, a coffee convention. It’s a thing. But uh, maybe hard cold brew shouldn’t be a thing,” you reflect. He makes a noise in agreement, but his eyes soften.

“I didn’t mind it. I just think you mentioned something about getting straight to the point yesterday,” he murmurs. You still under his gaze, warmth sweeping through you. He slowly leans forward, head dipping down. His lips are centimeters from yours, but he stops, letting them ghost against yours. His breath fans against you, and you push forward, meeting his lips.

They’re warm and a bit chapped. But you don’t mind, not when his large hands are traveling up and down the planes of your body. They rest on your hips, softly kneading the flesh that’s there. You moan against him, and his tongue slips into your mouth.

In a moment of bravery, you swing a leg to straddle his lap. He grunts, and you pull away from his lips.

“Are you okay?” you ask, getting ready to get up. His hands hold your hips down, and he nods his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just an old accident.” You nod and caress the side of his face. He nuzzles into your hand and your thumb strokes his sharp cheekbone.

“Okay, just..let me know if I hurt you.” He grins before leaning to kiss you again. He wraps his arms around you and it’s like he’s everywhere, surrounding you on every side. Your hips stutter against him, and you try to stop the movement, not wanting to hurt him. He groans, and you come to the conclusion maybe you should get off him.

Right before you slide off of him, his large hands drag your core against him. Oh. Oh. Your face heats up as you realize the last noise he made wasn’t out of pain. You let him grind your hips down into him, and you move to pepper kisses all over his face.

He starts to harden under you, and you hide your face against him. A second wave of confidence has you upping the pace and grinding down into him. Another groan rumbles through his chest and into you.

Your movements slow, and he makes a pained noise. You pull away from him and rise on shaking legs. He looks at you, cocking his head to the side in confusion. You roll your eyes before grabbing his wrist and pulling at him.

“C’mon. There’s not a lotta space on the couch,” you complain. He laughs at that and follows you to your bedroom. The two of you are pulling at each other's clothes, creating a trail from the doorframe to your bed. You’re down to your underwear when you fall on the bed. Toshinori’s left in his boxers and his shirt, and he looks away from you, nervously grabbing onto the hem of the shirt. You can see bits of his scar peeking out from under his shirt, and your gaze softens.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” His intense eyes return to you, and they trail up and down your figure. You flush, embarrassed by his attention. While you meant it when you said he didn’t have to take off his shirt, a large part of you wishes he would. As if hearing his thoughts, he pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing his long torso.

You hold in the gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips. Long, angry lines radiate from a central point on his abdomen. They spiral out and mar a large portion of his skin. Your heart lurches, and he looks so tried/ You see the creases on his face deepen, the shadows increase, and the distance in his eyes. He carries a weight, that much you can see.

“If you don’t want to keep going that’s fine,” he mutters. You scoff at his words, reaching up to tug on the long strands that hang next to his face. He bends down at the motion, and you kiss him deeply, trying to pour all of your feelings into the action. When you pull away, his face is dusted with lovely red, and you can now see that it dips down onto the planes of his chest.

You pull him onto the bed, and he unceremoniously falls next to you. You kiss him again before pushing him on his back, letting his legs hand off the bed. You crawl onto the floor, placing yourself in between his legs. Propping himself up on his elbows, he scoots himself forward as you pull at his legs.

Once he’s at the edge of the bed, you reach up to pull off his boxers. His hips rise, letting you pull them down, and his cock spring free. You flush as it stands proudly in front of you. Toshinori’s beet red, but his mouth is open, letting out little pants. You smirk at him before spitting in your hand and tentatively wrapping it around his dick.

He makes the softest, smallest noise, and it goes right to your aching cunt. Your thumb swipes over the leaking head of his cock, and his hips buck ever so slightly. You grin, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to the underside of his length. He groans, and you start to pump him with your hands, letting your head nuzzle against his thigh.

When he looks down at you, he swears, the sight alone could make him cum: your face flushed against his thigh, looking at him so sweetly, while you jack him off. And then something in your eyes shifts and you lick his cock, from the bottom to the head. He lets out a choked moan, and you do it again before you try to take as much of him as you can in your mouth.

His hips barely thrust up again, but you get the message. Your head bobs delicately around his cock, while your hand pumps around the base. Part of you wonders if he’ll fit inside you, but you’ll think about that later. Right now, saliva and precum fall from your mouth to coat his dick. Normally you would’ve been grossed out, but seeing the blissful look on Toshinori’s face distracted you from the lewdness of the situation.

“You feel so good, sweet girl,” he keens. His praise goes straight to your throbbing core, and you squeeze your thighs together in a lame attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

His hips continue to buck underneath you, and you're positive he’s going to cum soon based on the way his abdomen is tense. To your surprise, his hands pull you away from his dick. You lean into his touch, thighs still squeezing together.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask while trying to catch your breath. He lets out a small laugh and shakes his head.

“No, it felt too good.” He pulls you back on the bed, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. He pulls away, letting his large thumb stroke over your lips. You open your lips ever so slightly, letting him push it in. When you suck around it, he groans and drops his forehead to rest against yours.

“It felt too good, and I don’t wanna cum yet,” he mumbles. Your tongue swirls against his thumb, and you hum. He shakes his head in disbelief before pulling his thumb out of your mouth and pushing you against the bed. He peppers your neck with kisses while warm hands trail up and down your body before landing on your breasts. He squeezes them before lightly pinching your nipples.

“I really like your hands,” you murmur, feeling stupid after saying it. But a warm laugh resounds through the room.

“Well, I really like touching you.” As if to emphasize his point, he pulls at your nipples harshly.

Squirming against his touch, you run your fingers through his hair. His mouth trails down your body, pressing wet kisses everywhere he can. He licks a stripe between the valley of your breasts, making you flush. He tentatively runs his tongue over a nipple, and you stifle a moan. As if sensing your hesitation, he nips at the hardening bud, while a calloused hand continues to pinch and pluck at your other nipple.

Your grip tightens in his hair, and you lightly tug and you arch against him. You murmur his name, and his eyes delight in your flushed state. He switches to suck and nip at your other nipple, letting his fingers pinch the other one. Once he’s satisfied with how flustered you look, he continues on his path. When he reaches the edge of your underwear, you bite your lip nervously.

He kisses your hip reassuringly before he slides the fabric down your legs. His large hands lightly push apart your thighs, and he lets out a groan at your wet, exposed pussy. Embarrassed, your hands leave his hair to hide your face.

“Please don’t be shy.” He kisses the inside of your thigh, his large thumb reassuringly rubbing the skin there. “I’m honored to be here. It’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.”

You peek out behind your hands, thoughts feeling slow and sticky at his words. His gaze is soft and full of affection as he watches you pry your hands away from your face. Something warm and heavy settles deep in the hollow of your chest. Oh. Fuck. You would deal with that later.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him. When you let your legs widen, he grins and kisses your thigh again. Tentatively, he runs a calloused finger up and down your slit.

“So wet,” he whispers, hit breath fanning against you. You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues his gentle exploration.

His finger doesn’t stop, but his face nuzzles into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Please open your eyes. I want you to watch.” Your face heats up at his words, but you comply, forcing your eyes to open. A sharp grin graces his face, and he slides his finger up to your clit. You bite your lip in an effort to contain your moan, and he shakes his head again.

“I wanna hear those pretty sounds you make,” he murmurs into your skin. His finger traces delicate patterns on your clit, and a choked moan claws its way out of your throat. He hums in satisfaction, and your hands weave into his hair again.

His fingers trail down away from your clit to tease your dripping hole, and you groan. He presses in his finger slowly, marveling at the way your mouth falls open. He slowly pumps his finger into you, letting his thumb occasionally brush over your clit.

You gently buck your hips into his hand, small sighs leaving your mouth. It’s not nearly enough, but it ignites the need for more.

“Faster,” you moan. He smirks but compiles, pumping his finger faster, letting it curl inside you. You thrust your hips in time, trying to increase the delicious friction.

“Toshinori, more. Please.” You tug lightly at his hair, and he presses another kiss into your thigh. A second, thick finger joins the first, and you groan. His thumb lands on your clit with certainty now, and his fingers pump into you, opening you up. You grind into his hand, a terrifying ledge now in view.

“Do you think you can handle another one?” His question makes your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he grins as you nod in overeagerness. “Use your words,” he says. But your mind is slow like honey, so you just mumble the word ‘please’ until he slips a third, large finger in.

You groan at how full you are with just his fingers. They’re heavy and red hot inside you. His eyes flicker between your blissed-out face and your sopping pussy. His fingers hit just the right spot inside you, and your eyes widen in shock. He hits it again, and again, and again, and then you are catapulted over the edge that was apparently much closer than you thought.

You writhe against his hand, thighs shaking and trying to squeeze together. You tug harshly at his hair, but he doesn't stop. No, he doesn't stop until the white-hot coil is ready to snap again. You try to buck away from him, your cunt feeling oversensitive, but he is relentless. His thumb digs harshly into your clit, and you see white spots in your vision.

Your entire body tenses as you cum again. Your eyes screw shut, as your hips writhe violently, a loud moan leaving your throat against your will. You repeat his name like a chant, unable to say anything else. This would’ve been embarrassing except you felt so good you didn’t care.

He crawls up next to you, propping himself up on an arm. There’s an adoring look on his face as you try to catch your breath. A sense of exhaustion falls over you, but you frown when you realize he hasn’t cum yet.

One of his hands reaches out to caress the side of your face, and you lean into it. When you realize this was the hand that was just inside you, you flush before turning your head to suck at his fingers. He groans, watching as you suck away.

“Are you good to keep going? If you’re tired we can stop,” he mumbles, eyes entranced by your mouth. You release his fingers with a pop before kissing his palm.

“I want to keep going.” He grins at your words before sitting up. Your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat already, but you mimic his action. His cock looks painfully erect, the head an angry red. He was big. You knew that when you had him in your mouth. Even after stretching you out with his fingers, you knew it would be tight. You reach out to stroke his cock tentatively, and he groans.

“It may be…” you start.

“It may be what?”

“It may be easier if I’m on top, at least for now. You’re really big.” Blush sweeps over his cheeks and dips down across his collar bones. You grin as his brow creases in thought.

“Maybe we shouldn’t-” his concerns are cut off by you rising to your knees and swinging a leg over, letting your pussy rest right against the tip of his dick. You lean forward to press a kiss to his red cheek, and you hold his face between your hands.

“Make no mistake, Toshinori. I want you inside me.” A deeper red blooms on his skin at your words, but his eyes are blown out, and he nods, letting his hands fall to your waist. Your hands leave his face to clutch at your shoulders, and you tentatively drop down.

The stretch of his cock makes your mouth open stupidly. Slowly, you rise up again and sink further down. Toshinori moans loudly, the vibrations traveling through you. He buries his face into your neck as you continue to spear yourself on his cock.

When he’s fully sheathed inside you, you still. He peppers kisses against your neck, your jaw, your face. You feel so blissfully full you almost don’t notice them. He’s everywhere, surrounding you on all sides, inside and out. He’s trembling, you can feel his muscles quaking underneath your fingers. Ever so slowly, you rise on your knees, keening at the way his cockhead drags against you. When you fall back down, his moan sets your blood on fire.

The pace you set isn’t terribly fast, but it feels good. Toshinori’s hands grip your waist tightly, and he looks at you in pure awe. You bounce on his dick, taking in every sound and expression he makes. He gently thrusts up to meet you, making you whine. Having him inside you was almost too much. The air is warm and thick, and so is your blood. Your movements start to feel clumsy, and you try to keep it up as long as you can, but your thighs are starting to burn, and your pace falters.

You tug at his hair and whine. His hands run up the sides of your body before reluctantly forcing you to still.

“Do you think you’re okay with me on top?” You nod at his question, too full and fucked to answer with words. Toshinori gently twists, letting your body hit the bed. Caging you in with his arms, he tentatively rocks into you.

You clench around him and whine. He litters your face with kisses again as he thrusts into you, increasing the pace once you settle. Your arms hang lazily around his neck, and you lift your hips to try and meet his thrusts. You’re so full, so content.

Toshinori shifts to let an arm slide in between you two. Two fingers gently tease your tired clit. He continues thrusting into you as the teasing becomes aggressive, his fingers rolling the sensitive nub.

“Toshinori, I’m close,” you whine. He nods, increasing his pace, trying to push you off the ledge again. When he pinches your poor clit, you tighten around him. Your body locks up, and you scream.

When you cum, you pull him down into you, trying to merge your souls. Everything’s golden and warm. He’s trembling against you as you writhe, and he barely pulls out in time to paint your stomach with his thick cum. Your pussy clenches around air, and it’s only then that you realize your quirk is making you literally glow.

You breathe deeply, trying to regain control, and your head falls against the pillow. Toshinori falls next to you, and he strokes your cheek adoringly. You’re overcome with a tsunami of different emotions. A warmth pricks at the back of your eyes, and to your horror, you can’t stop the tears that force their way out. A large thumb sweeps out to softly brush away the salty drops.

“Oh god, don’t tell me I’m so bad I made you cry.” You let out a laugh and shake your head.

“I just came so hard I almost blacked out. I just…” you wince uncomfortably, but nonetheless continue. “This is so stupid.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, but force yourself to keep talking. “I just don’t want you to break my heart,” you manage to choke out. You take a breath, wanting to say more, but the words stick in your throat.

He kisses along your jaw before pausing, indicating for you to continue. Once you do, he slowly leaves sleepy wet kisses along your neck.

“Well, I mean I barely know you, really, but I want you to have the world instead of having to carry its weight. I don’t know why you’re carrying that type of weight. I truly don’t.“ He freezes against you, pulling away from your neck.

“And I get that me being an absolute moron and talking about it after we just fucked isn’t gonna change that. Especially now that I’m crying like an idiot. I get it, but fuck, I want to be there for you. I mean it when I say I’d give you the world if I could. Fuck, I’d carry it so you could have a moment of peace.”

When you glance at him, he’s looking at you so softly, so tenderly, that your heart swells. He kisses you sweetly, trying to convey a thousand emotions with a single gesture. When he pulls away, you run your fingers through his thick hair.

He shifts to kiss your collarbones, before moving lower. He peppers your body with small, affectionate kisses, stopping when he reaches your stomach. His fingers swipe at his sticky cum before he looks up at you.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs. You flush before tangling your hands with one of his. He continues his exploration of your body, avoiding his cum, but leaving sweet kisses against your skin. When his face ends up between your legs, your stomach flips. You squeeze your thighs together, embarrassed at having him so close to your abused pussy.

“Open up sweet girl. Don’t be shy. I was just down here.” His voice rumbles against you, and your face heats up, but your body reacts to his words.

“Hmmm. Positively soaked.” He squeezes your hand in affection while you take shaky breaths. He trails a finger down your oversensitive slit, and you squirm, trying to either escape or get closer. You can’t tell the difference at this point.

When his finger brushes against your achy clit, your entire body tenses. His finger gently teases your clit, and you rock your hips against him, your overworked cunt already tense. He lowers his mouth against you, letting his tongue replace his finger, and you writhe. He gently unlaces your fingers, guiding your hand to tangle in his hair. Your fingers tense on his scalp, as he moves to grip your waist, holding you down.

His tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves, making you buck against his face. The warmth of his mouth almost burns you. It’s too much, but it feels so good.

“Toshi,” you moan. A laugh rumbles through his chest, the vibrations going straight to your clit. He slides a large finger into your exhausted cunt and you writhe. A calloused pad lightly curls up into a soft spongy spot deep in you, and your thighs quake, a white-hot wave of pleasure flows through you. He works you through your orgasm, tongue never letting up on your clit. When your orgasm passes he doesn’t stop.

In fact, his ministrations intensify as he slips in a second finger to join the first. You tug his hair away from you, trying to pry his torturous mouth away from you.

“Toshi, I can’t. It’s too much,” you whine. He chuckles again before pressing a kiss to your trembling thigh.

“One more. Let me give you one more,” he murmurs into your skin. Your grip on his hair loosens and he leans back in to kiss your clit. His lips form a seal around your clit, and he lightly sucks. His clever fingers pump into you, unrelenting. Your hips buck, and you whine loudly. You’re so close again. When his teeth lightly nip at your poor, abused clit, it’s over. The white-hot feeling in the pit of your stomach explodes. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and you writhe uncontrollably against Toshinori’s face. He laps dutifully at your pussy, despite your pawing at his face.

When he finally lets your hips go, you're shaking. You weakly tug at him, urging him to crawl back up to you. He relents, and you kiss him deeply, flushing at tasting yourself on his lips. When he pushes himself out of your bed, you lean up, a questioning look in your eyes.

“Bathroom?” he asks.

“Through that door.” You gesture with your head before flopping back down against the bed. When he returns, he’s got a damp cloth and a glass of water. He hands you the cup, which you graciously chug. Your heart flutters lightly as he kneels to wipe your exhausted pussy and clean his cum off you. You breathe deeply, trying to catch your breath. The bed dips next to you as he curls around you.

Your head nestles into his chest, and you play with his hair gently. You twirl one of the long strands that frame his face around your finger, the other palm pressed gently against his chest.

“Hey,” you whisper. He smiles at you kindly.

“Hi,” he whispers back. You bite your lip, overcome with affection.

“Toshinori?” you gently ask. He hums in response, eyes shut as he enjoys your soft touches. You think of the warm, heavy feeling that’s deep in your chest. “I really like you.” One of his eyes opens and blinks at you.

“I really like you too,” he murmurs before pulling you close to him. In his warm embrace, you let your eyes shut, and sleep overtakes your exhausted body.

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (Ch.13)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight  Chris/Jill. Rated M for eventual smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 13: I Know You

(Warning: This chapter contains Smut!)

Claire realized she had stared down the barrel of a gun more times in this past week than she did in her entire life. She didn't really appreciate that and gave Lowery an insulted glare as he came a bit closer. Despite her perilous situation, her Redfield temper got the best of her.

"You always point a gun at students? Not exactly welcoming."

"Not typically," Lowery answered warily. "But then again, you aren't a RCU student, are you? And it never was your intention tonight, was it?"

It seemed as though William's brush off of this paranoid, quiet professor of little relevance was poorly advised. What Claire had forgotten was that William was in a position where everyone was inferior and of no threat to him, not only because of his infamy and prowess, but apparently from who he also had as a guard dog.

Either way, Claire now had a serious problem on her hands. And Wesker wasn't on the other side for help.

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," Claire replied coolly.

"Really? So, you don't have my missing file from the lab? The one my business partner said you dropped right in front of him?" Lowery inquired skeptically. "It's a good thing he showed up, otherwise I don't think I would've been able to catch up with you."

Claire kept calm, her eyes flicking back and forth from his steely face to the gun trained at her chest. All she had on her was her knife. She couldn't slip up now, otherwise she would be arriving back home in a body bag. "You must have me mistaken for someone else."

"Oh, it's you. I was tipped off that someone would try to steal our plans tonight. I had no idea it would be someone like you though. Hand them over or I will shoot you."

"Are you crazy? Shooting someone over some documents?"

He stepped closer, getting impatient. "I have no problem killing for them."

Claire couldn't hand it over. She had to protect Chris. The file was a requirement needed for her freedom. Besides, she was more afraid of Wesker than she was of this incompetent prick.

The file was hidden in her coat under her arm. Claire slightly raised her hands, even away from the knife in her pocket, mind plotting. "Come search me yourself. I don't have it!"

Lowery closed the short distance between them, guarded but also anxious to get this over with. As soon as he got close enough, Claire snatched the arm with the gun and pushed it away from her, kicking him hard in the groin and then slamming him into the bus behind her. He yelped in surprise, but in her attempt to disarm him, he recovered faster than she thought he would. He shoved her, attempting to grab her and they both slipped in the snow and tumbled to the ground. The file flew from the safety of her parka, landing in the snow just beside them.

The middle-aged professor pinned Claire face down, icy snow burning her face as she inhaled some up her nose.

"You stupid bitch, who sent you? Who're you working for?!"

Claire was able to pull out her knife. She blindly stabbed it up and behind her. The blade went deep in somewhere, his thigh, she guessed. He screamed in pain, rolling off and Claire sprang to freedom. Her initial instinct was to stomp his face in, but that gun came up to her face as he bled in the snow. Time seemed to slow as he pulled the trigger. She was done for.

Lowery's hand popped like a balloon, barely within the blink of an eye, bright and red. He cried out in shock and agony again, the gun flinging from his hand, blood spraying across the snow like spilled paint. Claire immediately snatched up the weapon and aimed it right back at him, not really understanding what had happened but not taking any chances. That's when she noticed the sleek, short dagger sticking out from his hand, the tip of the blade having gone completely through his palm.

Before it could completely register, a tall, muscular form stepped out of the shadows from between the buses and stalked over to the injured professor. Claire directed the gun at the stranger, but soon recognized the silver-haired man that Wesker had talked to beneath the streets of Raccoon City. Nikolai Zinoviev.

Despite the situation, the Russian mercenary had a playful grin on his scruffy face. "Looks like you picked fight with wrong girl, comrade! She's a feisty one, eh?"

Lowery hissed and groaned between gnashed teeth, glaring up at the snickering newcomer. "Nikolai? What the hell? You tipped Aaron and me off about her, why are you doing this?"

"Oh, sorry, friend. Our agreement expired because my new employer bought out yours and doubled price for his own. How is it you Americans say? Ah, right…money talks."

His hands may have been up in submission, but there was no mistaking the spite on Lowery's face. "I'll double his price…right now. Just give me my file and give me the girl."

"Just try it," Claire warned, pointing Lowery's own gun at him.

Nikolai chuckled. "She's just not that into you, comrade. Besides, she is under strict protection of my employer. If she gets just a scratch, it's my head. You understand, yes?"

Holding his bleeding hand, the college professor's defiant stare cracked, replaced with fear. "You gonna kill me?"

The younger Redfield did not like the sleazy grin on the silver-haired Russian's face. She refused to give Lowery what he wanted, but she didn't think he deserved to die. However, she got a more concerning feeling in her gut by Nikolai's smug look and shallow shrug. "Welllllll, that's where it gets interesting. I was supposed to kill anyone that got wind of our scheme here. But that little detail on agreement was outbid by his partner, without my employer's knowledge, of course! He wishes to speak with you, Dr. Lowery. You have time to chat, hmm friend?"

"W-Who?"

"You will know when we get there. Stay positive! Perhaps you two can make deal. Then we can put whole thing behind us!"

Nikolai stepped over to Lowery, holding out his hand, offering to help the wounded man to his feet. There was an underlying threat to his tone that Lowery had no choice but to come along. Claire felt his powerlessness as he glanced around, apprehensive. He raised his uninjured hand to take Nikolai's, but in the blink of an eye, the mercenary grabbed the professor and knocked him out cold.

"What the hell?!" Claire spat.

Nikolai pulled the knife from Lowery's hand and bandaged him up. He wiped the knife on his pants and inserted it into a cylindrical tube. It clicked in Claire's mind that the knife had been shot out of that when it struck Lowery. A ballistic knife. The Russian mercenary pocketed his weapon and started dragging the younger man through the snow. Claire watched, aghast, and then stomped after him.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"The white SUV just over there," Nikolai nodded with his head. "That is our ride."

"You are my ride?"

"Ms. Wong received new orders. So now you and I get to spend some quality time together, printsessa."

She knew well enough that whatever he had called her was some kind of pet name and that rolled off her skin like cold sludge. "Fuck that. I'll walk."

He wasn't fazed by her attitude, in fact, she was sure he was fed by it. That same sleazy grin appeared as he seemed to drag the man with little effort, way stronger than he looked. "In this weather? You catch cold easily. Besides, it is my responsibility to return you to Wesker."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

Nikolai snorted as he loaded the unconscious professor into the backseat of the vehicle . "Does it? You know what else is personal? Your brother, Chris, yeah?"

Claire froze, having only taken three defiant steps away from this situation once Nikolai reached the SUV. She turned around, glaring. She aimed Lowery's gun at him, angry, protective, cornered.

"What do you know about my brother?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, the same wily grin still in place, careful steps moving towards her and away from the SUV where Lowery was now locked away. "Oh, little of everything, I suppose. Address, schedule, hobbies..."

There was an underlying threat there. Her gut clenched, rolled like a dying animal. And all Claire could come to understand was that this dangerous mercenary knew this information with the sole purpose of killing her big brother.

In a split second the scarred mercenary disarmed her, flipping the gun around on her. Claire froze, breath hitching, and Nikolai playfully chortled.

"Ohhhh, too slow, little Claire!"

He was a complete blur, she could barely register what just happened. This man was dangerous. Very dangerous.

She kept his gaze with the dirtiest look she could muster, hiding her worry, exposing her anger. After all, if Nikolai spoke the truth about Wesker having her under his protection, what was there to fear? Especially of him?

"You're going to kill my brother?" Claire hissed.

"Only if you do not do as you're told. It's simply collateral, printsessa."

"Wesker fucking hired you to do this?"

Nikolai chuckled. "You're surprised? Comrade Wesker doesn't get his hands dirty unless he has to. Why would he when he has pawns or even paid professionals like myself?"

Claire wasn't surprised. But she was still livid. Feeding off of her anger, Nikolai continued to spite her.

"Don't worry, I'm only having little fun." He slipped the gun inside his coat and opened the front passenger door of the SUV for her. "Come along, printsessa. I take you back to where you belong. It is in my best interest that I return you in perfect condition."

Offended, she snapped, "I belong at home with my brother!"

Nikolai half-shrugged. God, she wanted to shoot that smug grin off his face. "That is not what comrade Wesker thinks."

"I don't give a damn what he thinks!"

The younger Redfield didn't have much of a choice. If she didn't go with Nikolai, he would kill her brother under orders from Wesker. But going with him also meant going into the open arms of the enemy.

Biting her tongue, fists clenched, she got inside the vehicle and her pompous companion closed the door and went around and got in the driver's seat. Claire looked back at the unconscious Lowery. Nikolai had tied his arms to the backseat in case he woke up.

"You are in interesting position," Nikolai stated after driving for a bit. "Both blessing and curse to have Wesker's protection. But even more interesting is how obsessed he seems with you."

"I'm just trying to get back to my normal life, whatever it takes."

Nikolai's hollow laugh filled the cab. "He's not going to let you go...not by what I saw."

Claire didn't say anything, both mad and upset that he was probably right. She stared out the window. Raccoon City life went on, even after dark. Busy, bustling, oblivious, day and night.

"He had girl like you awhile back...five, six years ago. Pretty little thing, not much older than you, red hair too. Emigrated here working for Umbrella, eastern Europe, I think."

"What happened to her?" Claire asked, suddenly interested.

Nikolai shrugged apathetically. "No one knows for sure. Most rumors revolve around her fleeing for some reason. Going into hiding. Personally, I think Wesker just got bored of her and ran her off. I guess we'll never really know."

Claire grew quiet, although more questions burned within her about this mysterious woman. Maybe it was best to leave well enough alone; but it did make her more curious about Wesker and the seemingly endless secrets he had. Just a while ago, she would have thought it impossible that Wesker would care about anyone but himself.

Her inner pondering got her the mercenary's sarcastic quip in return. "Oh, don't worry, Claire! She's long gone. Wesker has his eyes on you and you alone. He's all yours! Ahh, you don't know how many females would kill to be in your place right now."

Nikolai's creepy chortle unsettled her. She focused on the passing scenery outside her window. But perhaps it wasn't the mercenary's vile laugh that really unsettled her, but the way her pulse rocketed in tune with an excited warmth in her groin...

Claire began to wonder how they would get the unconscious Lowery out of the car and down into NEST when Nikolai parked the SUV in the alleyway behind an Umbrella pharmacy. Her inner questions were soon answered when a few men in black mercenary suits came outside. Nikolai barked orders at them in Russian as they yanked the professor out without an ounce of sympathy.

She had a real bad feeling when Nikolai motioned her to follow them. The pharmacy was closed, dark, but they went into the back where a security door was. A pharmacist was there waiting, dressed in her appropriate attire and swiped a keycard to allow them entry. She didn't look like she was being coerced or intimidated. In fact, she looked more annoyed than anything, as though letting these thugs through her business put a huge damper on her beauty sleep.

By the time they took a large elevator down into the sewers, Lowery started coming to. But the two hefty men carrying him under the arm pits would have no problem keeping him under control. They followed along the marked passageways that would take them to NEST.

"Oh God, no! Please, no!" Lowery cried, recognizing their surroundings. He fought with the men who carried him, pleaded even. "Just kill me now! Don't hand me over to that devil!"

But his cries went ignored. Claire felt bad for the man, even after he had tried to kill her. She didn't blame him for his futile fighting and begging. Wesker would surely condemn this man to a horrible death and write it off as some sort of accident, never to be questioned.

Even as they trekked through the clean, bright hallways of NEST, Lowery's cries for help and mercy went unanswered. Some Umbrella workers simply turned a blind eye while others paused to enjoy watching the man's misfortune.

They stopped at an intersection of hallways. Although Lowery had exhausted himself struggling with his captors, he still quietly sobbed for his life. He stared puffy-eyed at Claire and it hurt her to the bone. She was responsible for his fate. If only he hadn't followed her. If only he had let her go.

"You don't know who you're working for," he said to her. "He's a monster! The absolute worst!'

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want any of this to happen," Claire replied, feeling guilty. She wasn't sure he would believe her. "Wesker blackmailed me. I'm just trying to protect my brother."

Lowery's face scrunched up, and strangely he laughed. A snorty, "fuck-it-all" laugh that was more creepy than anything. "I wasn't talking about Wesker."

The college student was caught off guard, just assuming the professor was talking about her own captor. But it didn't take her long to realize who he was really talking about.

"Consider yourself lucky." His last words were muttered, bitter.

Nikolai nodded to his men, and they started dragging him off down one long, blindingly white hallway. Lowery had given up fighting, his eyes haunted, searing into hers as he was hauled off, probably never to be seen again.

"Come along, printsessa. Wesker awaits your return."

Claire hesitated, perturbed, telling herself that Lowery was a bad man and deserved what he got, and that she had to do what she did to save Chris. She joined Nikolai as they took a different route, her steps without as much pep as his, thinking.

"Ah, cheer up, Claire! You looked out for most important person. Yourself! This saves precious brother in end!"

She would've been insulted by his words if she hadn't been so damn confused on why Lowery was more afraid of William than he was of Wesker.

"What is William going to do to that man? Why was he more afraid of him than Wesker?"

Nikolai half-glanced at her, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "They're two different monsters, printsessa. There are fates worse than death if you haven't figured that out already."

Annette had said those very same words to her before. And although she had understood the concept, fearing that her blackmailing and enslavement to Wesker would go on forever, there was something about the way that Nikolai had said it that disturbed her on a deeper level.

"Who do you think has more empathy?"

Claire looked at him, confused. "William. Obviously."

Nikolai chuckled. "Then you do not know Birkin very well!" When she stayed quiet, he continued. "Wesker has more empathy, even if it's indirect most of time."

Claire scoffed at that. "Yeah, right."

"It's true! Take Dr. Lowery for example. Comrade Wesker would've just saved us all the trouble and put a bullet between his eyes. But Birkin has to have something more...exciting. Lowery would've preferred that bullet. Therefore, in such instance, Wesker has more empathy. And, well, there's you, isn't there? Most people would've died in your situation, but Wesker spared you...even if it was for nefarious motives. And the fact that he has given you his protection is quite telling!"

"What is William going to do?"

Nikolai shrugged. "Not for me to say. Unless, of course, you wish to purchase such secrets from me."

She glared at the greedy son of a bitch. "Not in your life."

Again, the Russian mercenary was amused and not at all insulted. "As you wish. But here is free advice, printsessa. Take it or leave it. The thing about Wesker and Birkin is that they do not have the capacity to care for anyone outside of their private circle. Wesker only cares for Birkin and his unbearingly cute daughter - besides himself, of course. And that care doesn't even extend to his own best friend's wife. But...there are some pretty convincing rumors that he cared about the last redhead that came before you. Birkin rarely cares for anyone outside his family and Wesker. Though from what I heard he's fond of you for some reason!"

Claire rolled her eyes, but unfortunately, he wasn't finished.

"Mark my words, printsessa. If one falls, the other will. Especially Birkin. Wesker will probably recover, perhaps be driven more by his hatred without Birkin to keep it at bay. But Birkin...he'll absolutely lose it. I give him two weeks before he's falling apart, showing the monster he really is, and I wouldn't doubt he'll eat his own family alive if that happens."

"You make it sound like that's going to happen soon."

"Nah...just eventually. Everybody makes mistakes, even comrade Wesker. One day they may have to reap what they have sown. And if comrade Sergei gets his wish, we will see these two partners in crime turn on each other like dogs when push comes to shove, common goals be damned. Ultimately, they're only out for themselves. Their symbiosis will come to an end one day, that's inevitable."

A large laboratory-like room came upon their left, long windows allowing Claire and Nikolai to peer inside as they made their way to the automatic door further down. Claire noticed right away that the Birkins were bickering over something near a large computer screen. Wesker was on the opposite side of the room on the phone, fingers on his other ear as if to tune his coworkers out. He was facing the window and so noticed them right away. Claire could tell by how his naked eyes caught them and he smirked.

But a surprise addition she wasn't expecting was Sherry. The little girl held up a piece of paper, trying to get her parents' attention. She went unnoticed…

When the automatic door slid open to let Claire and Nikolai into the room, Sherry was the only Birkin to notice. She looked over her shoulder with startled eyes. She barely looked at them, Claire didn't even have time to wave at her, before she spun and raced across the room. And just like the younger Redfield saw before, the child took refuge behind the monster that had Claire by a tight leash.

The first thing Claire thought was that it was sad that a young girl felt she had to retreat across a large room to take cover behind her godfather when she had been right beside her parents…Worst yet, her parents continued on, unaffected that their child ditched them to hide behind someone else and barely noticed the arrival of company.

Wesker held up a finger to tell them he would be with them momentarily. Sherry peeked her head out from behind him and instantly brightened when she recognized Claire. She came out of her "safe zone" and over to Claire, careful to avoid getting near Nikolai or looking at him.

"Hi, Claire!"

Claire greeted her with a bright, positive smile. "Hello, Sherry!"

The young girl barely allowed her to finish before hugging her tightly around the waist. Taken aback at first, the college student returned the hug and rubbed Sherry's head.

"You look so cute today! I love that outfit."

Sherry grinned. "Thanks. Look what I drew!" And held up the same paper she had presented to her parents.

Claire was expecting a random doodle kids Sherry's age often produced, with their colorful imagination. She gasped at what she was shown. It was really good. Like really good. Probably better than Claire could ever draw. It was a cat dozing on a tree limb, all sketched in pencil and shaded.

"Wow, Sherry! This is really good!"

"You think?" Birkin's little girl wondered with a blush, nervously rocking back and forth on her heels.

"Seriously, I need to take some pointers from you. Did you have a picture to look at or something?"

Sherry shook her head. "No, just saw a cat doing that on my way to school this morning and drew it from memory."

This girl had a photogenic memory apparently. That didn't surprise Claire, the young girl already acted like she was quite intelligent for her age. She looked and acted like her father a lot, and must have gotten both of her parents' gifted smarts.

"That's incredible, Sherry. I love it."

Sherry blushed even deeper, but didn't have time to say anything before Nikolai butted in shamelessly, bending down, hands on his knees to get to her level, his toothy grin making the young girl nervous.

"Ah, aren't you a clever and talented little devushka! Taking right after mama and papa! Such a bright future ahead of you!"

Claire glared at the asshole and was about to give him a piece of her mind, protecting Sherry, when a dark, tall figure stepped directly in between Nikolai and Sherry. Sherry instantly looked relieved, and clinged to her familiar wall. Nikolai slowly stood up straight, unfazed by the glare that would have incinerated most men.

Wesker didn't even have to say anything. Nikolai put up his hands in fake submission, and Claire was sure this man wasn't afraid of anything since he didn't even bat an eye to the scariest person in the room.

"Oh, forgive me, comrade. I have overstepped boundaries. I meant no harm."

"Yes, you did, you fucking asshole," Claire snapped.

Nikolai chuckled, but kept his attention on his employer. "Your lyubovnik is bold. I can see why you like her so much, comrade. Should've seen how she handled 'ol Lowery when he attacked her."

The Birkins had stopped bickering and came over to get in on the conversation at hand. And even with them being nearby, Sherry remained behind her "uncle".

Wesker's lip barely curled at Nikolai's gibe. "And where is Dr. Lowery now? Was he...taken care of?"

Claire was sure he said that in such a way just for the sake of Sherry, and that surprised her.

"Forgive me, but your...request was outbid by best friend."

Wesker glared William's way, but the eccentric researcher just fist pumped like an excited kid. "Yes!"

Nikolai chuckled. "After all, no one knows the value of human life quite like Dr. Birkin."

"Of course they don't! I mean I am a doctor, after all!" William snorted and ruffled Sherry's hair, getting her to giggle. "Relax, Al! I'll take good care of our guest! Thanks, Nikky!"

"I'm sure you will," Wesker stated as William left the laboratory, on a mission. Under William's delighted smile and hums as he left, Claire fleetingly noticed tiny traces of something dark, something ruthless. And she understood Lowery would never be seen again.

Wesker turned to Nikolai and Annette after his partner had gone. "Nikolai, I'll escort you out. We have much to discuss. Anne, dear, please keep Miss Redfield comfortable until I return."

Annette sighed. "What am I now, your babysitter? Come on, Albert...I have enough to do as it is, I'm behind schedule even without having to take care of your…," She gave Claire an unreadable glance, "...guest."

Sherry's mother turned and went back to her project at one corner of the room, where she and William had been bickering earlier, busying herself with whatever was displayed on the computer's monitor. Claire glared at her back. This woman was something else! When first meeting with Claire she seemed curious, albeit a little skeptical, and gave Claire advice on Wesker. Now this. Then again, Annette was always absorbed in her work to barely be concerned with her own child.

"Come along, comrade," Wesker mocked, motioning for the Russian mercenary to follow him.

But before he left, Nikolai had one last piece of advice to give Claire. "Remember printsessa...If you are going to dwell among wolves...you should howl like one."

He winked at her and left with that eerie grin on his face. Once it was just Claire, Sherry, and Annette, the tension in the room nearly dissipated completely. Sherry snatched Claire's hand and tried dragging her away from the exit.

"I don't see that man too often, but he's scary. C'mon, let's go sit in the break room, I have more drawings to show you!"

The college student hesitated at first, still confused over Nikolai's final advice. She shook it from her thoughts and allowed the young girl to guide her past her mother and into the little break room attached to the laboratory.

"Momma, me and Claire are gonna go draw in the break room, you should join us!"

"That's nice, sweetie," Annette mumbled while looking into a microscope.

Claire tightened the grip around Sherry's hand and stopped, glaring at Annette, but Sherry tugged on her. "It's okay, she's busy. Come on!"

It took all of her willpower to bite her tongue, only doing so because of Sherry. They went to the table and sat down. Sherry showed off her drawings in a sketchbook that was falling apart. Nearly all the pages were filled with her artwork, many loose and sticking out all over the place. The girl exuberantly showed off her illustrations. Claire was just as excited to see them all, and found joy that the young Birkin was out of her shell now.

"They're all so good. Sherry, you should become a professional artist when you grow up!"

Sherry beamed. "Really? Daddy says I'm gonna be a doctor like him some day. I want to do both. I want to help people like they do."

Claire smiled, hiding the worry from such a statement. "You are so smart and talented, you can do whatever you want to. I know it."

"Thank you, Claire!" The girl blushed with a sweet smile. Claire couldn't believe such a cute, sweet little girl could come from such horrible parents that let a psychopath raise her half the time. "I wish my parents showed as much interest in me as you. I mean, they do, just...I don't know. Sometimes they're just so absorbed in their work, that's all they know." Sherry frowned. "...or care about."

"Well, they aren't focusing on what's important then. I hope one day that they do."

Sherry nervously played with the crinkled corner of one of her artworks. "What are your parents like, Claire?"

The pain that ripped through her heart wasn't expected. Claire took a deep breath and smiled at the girl. "Well, I lost them when I was around your age. But...I remember my mom being...fearless. She wasn't afraid of anything, it seemed. She loved motorcycles. I got my love of motorcycles from her. My dad...he was patient and so much fun. He played guitar. He was teaching me before…"

Sherry was quiet for a long moment, and she grabbed Claire's hand and squeezed. "What...happened to them?"

"Car accident. It's weird...they were both special forces in the Air Force. Seemed invincible to me as a kid. And they were gone in a split second...just like that."

"Oh no! That's terrible! Were you all alone?"

"No...no. I have an older brother. He's a cop...he works with Wesker. He raised me with the help from some old family friends. We lost everything from our old home though."

"What, why? So you don't have anything from your parents?"

"My uncle...distant uncle, my mom's brother. He lives in Stone Ville. He got the house and all the belongings because my brother wasn't an adult at the time. And he never liked our father or us very much. So he took it away from us. Blamed our father for the accident."

Sherry's hands clamped over her mouth and nose in an instant, shocked by the heartlessness of Claire's uncle. "That's awful!" she mumbled from behind dainty fingers.

Claire half-shrugged, swallowing the resentment she still had for that family member. "Chris and I have come to terms with it. Most of it meant nothing to us anyway. He sold the house and most of the stuff a long time ago, but he keeps a few important things in storage. Some things we hope to get one day."

Sherry bit her lip. "Like what?"

"Pictures, mostly. My dad's guitar. My brother really wants their military medals. Me...there's just one picture I really want. It's my parents on my mom's red motorcycle, dressed in their military attire, before they had us. I remember adoring it as a kid. They looked like superheroes to me. But…"

"But what?"

Claire swallowed, ignoring the burn in her eyes. "I'm afraid I'm gonna forget what they look like one day. That picture gets more and more fuzzy as the years go by."

Sherry gasped and looked horrified, sad for her, staring up at her with big blue eyes. Claire cleared her throat, putting on a big smile. She got so caught up in her reminiscing that she made the girl just as sad she was. "Sorry. Hey, don't worry about it! It will all work out in the end. I know it!"

Sherry leaned in and hugged her close. "I hope so! Or else we can send Nikolai to scare him," the blond girl joked slyly, face crushed against her.

That tickled a snorted laugh out of the young Redfield. "Yeah, he better not tempt me! One more thing though...could you keep this between us?"

The last thing she needed was something else for Wesker to have over her head.

She pulled back with a small smile. "I promise! I sure would like to meet your brother one day. He must be strong and brave if he works with Uncle Albert!"

Claire wished she could understand the closeness she felt to this little girl after knowing her for such a short period. Maybe a little sister she never had, or a daughter perhaps that Claire would want one day.

"He is. He's the best."

Light knocking startled them both, and Claire's heart spun when she saw Wesker in the doorway of the breakroom. There was no door separating the rooms, and so she could only hope he hadn't been there long and overheard their conversation.

"Hi, Uncle Albert! Claire just told me that her brother works with you!"

The STARS Captain moved inside, a small smirk forming. He no longer sported the lab coat from earlier, but was still dressed exquisitely. "Yes, he does. He's one of my best men, actually."

"Oh, neat, are you guys friends?!"

"Best of friends," Wesker chuckled, although his ambiguous tone and smile was directed towards Claire.

"Even more than Daddy?" Sherry gasped.

Wesker's smile towards Sherry was a lot less menacing and he held out his arm. "Of course not, darling."

Sherry took his arm and squeaked in delight as he picked her up effortlessly out of the chair and let her dangle for a moment like a doll before setting her down on her feet.

"I see you were providing Claire with some pleasant company. Thank you, Sherry."

Wesker offered his hand with a sly smile, but Claire refused it. She stood up on her own with a defiant look that only made her captor's smirk grow.

"Of course, Uncle Albert! I just love having Claire come by to visit. Can't you bring her around more often? Please, pretty please?!"

"I'm sure we could work on that."

"Yay!" Sherry exclaimed, hugging Claire real quick before going over to the table to gather up her art supplies and sketchbook.

"Are you ready, dear heart?"

Claire hated that he said that pet name right in front of Sherry. As if she needed any more reasons to fantasize about them hooking up. "Ready for what?"

"We're leaving."

"W-Where?" she inwardly panicked.

"My personal quarters here in the facility. We have much to discuss."

Somewhere behind them, Sherry giggled into her hand and quickly hid her face behind her sketchbook to avoid being reprimanded for butting into their business. Wesker let it slide - for now.

Claire shook her head. "No, we can do that tomorrow. I have to get home to Chris. He'll be worried."

"He'll be fine," Wesker countered. "He's at the bar with friends, most notably Jill, which means he won't be home until late, or until nature takes its course between them. We wouldn't want to disrupt that now, would we?" He leered gleefully at her.

She glared at him, ignoring his comment about the possibility of any...lewd content...between her brother and Jill, even if she was very aware of the attraction between the two. But now was not the time nor place to be concerned over that.

"The sooner we get our "business" out of the way, the sooner you can go home."

It wasn't like she had a choice, no matter how much she fought him. Claire reluctantly agreed, for the sake of doing this quickly and getting it over with. But deep down, some strange, new instinct had awoken. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. She was certain going to Wesker's quarters with him alone would prove to be dangerous, bad, very bad. But this new instinct was okay with that, and it made her nerves tingle like she was high on drugs.

Wesker's private quarters within the NEST facility looked like a richy hotel room, only without a grand view of a beach or cityscape. The lights automatically kicked on when they entered. It was either hardly used or strictly kept up by a housekeeper. Immaculate. Expensive. There was a lounge area with leather sofas and a cherry wood table between them. The kitchen had expensive countertops and appliances, and even a bar. And from where she stood, Claire could see the open door that led into a large, dark bedroom.

"You should see William's quarters," Wesker stated after noticing her admiring the room. "It's nicer than his actual house. But he and Anne do practically live down here."

He took her parka from her and hung it up near the door. "Drink?" he offered, heading towards the bar. "I know I need one."

"Yeah," she mumbled, distracted, and then realized what she agreed to and glared at his back. "Only if I watch you pour it!"

"So suspicious," Wesker chuckled as he retrieved a couple of glasses and pulled out a bottle of wine from a fancy wine rack, checking the bottle over before pouring. "Trust me, if I do end up having to eliminate you, it will be a little more...exciting."

"Gee, thanks. That's totally increasing my trust in you."

He huffed a laugh and held out the glass full of a dark red liquid to her, clearly not fazed by her sarcastic comment in the least. Claire slowly took it from him and they sat down across from one another on the sofas. She gave in fast and took a sip. The redhead had been thirsty for quite a while. And a little peckish too, if she was being honest...espionage obviously made her hungry. You learn something new every day, she scoffed at herself silently. The wine was a rich merlot and it warmed her tongue and made her stomach fizzle.

"You do know you're contributing to a minor with this, right?"

"Well, I am an officer of the law. I'm quite aware of that."

"Are you sure you're an officer of the law?"

He shrugged, unimpressed, his steely grey eyes seemingly putting Claire more on edge than when he had his sunglasses on. "I have sundry jobs, if only you knew half of them. Then again, I would have to kill you if you did." Wesker smirked, unashamed.

Claire took a big gulp of her wine, either trying to settle her empty stomach or pacify her flurried nerves. "But mostly you're a corrupt cop by day and mad scientist by night. Got it."

His lips quirked in amusement. "You have me all figured out, apparently. And what about you, my dear?" There he went staking claim to her again. "Not so much a "good girl" yourself, hmm? The wine, for instance. If you're so offended by me serving you any, you could've just declined. I'm sure you're like any other college girl and drink plenty when big brother isn't watching."

Touché. She did go drinking and partying with her friends a lot. Without Chris knowing, of course.

"Yeah, so?" she challenged, and then balked, squeaking, "Please don't tell Chris!"

"Your secret is safe with me, dear heart."

Her heart did a weird flip that made her stomach feel warmer than the wine, and then she discerned it was time to get this meeting over with and get home as soon as possible.

"So, what is it you have to discuss with me, exactly? I'm sure it's too much to hope that you're finally setting me free?"

"It is. But do not fret yourself, my dear, you are making headway in our...agreement. I applaud you for your accomplishment tonight. No one else could have done it quite like you. I'm almost tempted to say...you're a natural."

"Thanks," Claire said dryly. "So, what about that doctor and other professor? What happens to them? Why hack into the hard drives of the university's research center?"

"Such questions are dangerous, Miss Redfield. You wish to get yourself deeper into this conspiracy? Best to leave it alone if you want to return to your normal life…"

She didn't say anything to that. He had a point, although it didn't make her feel any better about what kind of situation she had put these men in, whether they deserved it or not. Her being complicit in their (most probably) unpleasant fate somehow made her uneasy. Claire tried not to imagine what would await them now that their futures were at Wesker and Birkin's mercy...and would most likely be cut short.

"...unless you don't want to return to "normal"?" he smirked, a little too sanguine in his insinuation.

Claire avoided answering that, still upset over the fates of the two professors and the doctor. "Are those men bad like you?"

Wesker eyed her, sloshing around the little remains of wine in his glass. He stood, drinking the rest and then placing the glass on the table. He approached her, making her heart leap like a startled cat, and when he sat down beside her, she knew she was trapped.

"They make me look like a saint," he replied, placing his hand over his heart - or at least where it was supposed to be - in a gesture of mock sincerity. But she didn't believe him. "Trust me. They deserve whatever's coming to them."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, and wanted to scoot away from him, but some kind of pull kept her frozen in place.

"Perhaps you should look in the mirror, dear heart. It's obvious by tonight's events that your "good girl" demeanor is merely a front to a more adventurous and daring version of yourself...the true Claire. The Claire your brother never sees or even suspects because he lives in his little bubble of self-righteousness. He would never guess that the real Claire hides from the world, afraid of judgement. His judgement. Afraid of being judged for who she really is and what she really wants. The Claire that I see when I look at you…"

He wasn't talking about her defiant and rebellious nature that everyone knew, and often associated as typical Redfield traits, but something darker. She immediately refuted it, glaring at him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Although her defensive denial only made him smirk.

He's playing mind games with you. Ada and William warned you about this. Keep it together!

"I think you do," Wesker insisted. "I saw it the first time I laid eyes on you. You enjoyed being complicit tonight, the adrenaline rush, the danger, yes? The fact that you got away with it and, in a way, set up three cruel men to the fates they deserve. Satisfying, isn't it?"

His words hit too close to home. Claire could barely breathe, but stayed solid. Her heart pounded in her ear, she clenched her fingers on her thighs to where her knuckles turned white. Still, she glared at him, defying, but it was hard to keep his intense gaze.

"I didn't enjoy anything I did tonight. I did what I had to because you blackmailed me!"

Her instincts were all over the place. Some of them told her to get out of there. To move away from him, but the others told her to stay, to continue challenging him. But there was no winning either way. He was manipulating her and despite her best efforts it was working, but, in a way, she also knew he was telling the truth.

"Irrelevant," Wesker dismissed her protest. "You still went through with it. You can deny it all you want, but I see right through it. You take pleasure walking the line of morality. And lying to yourself is both pointless and a waste of time. I know you better than you think. I can read you like a book, Claire...although admittedly a riveting one."

She hated how pragmatic he was, but mostly abhorred how right he was.

Okay, so what if she did have a little fun tonight? So what if slinking around, danger at every corner, was a little thrilling to her? Was that so bad? It certainly contributed to her rebellious nature, but that didn't make her bad. That didn't make them alike, no matter what he seemed to think he knew of her.

Don't do it. Don't give him what he wants.

"Even if you were right...which you aren't," Claire retorted, and then inwardly facepalmed, because that wasn't blatantly obvious that she fell for his trap. "What exactly are you trying to get out of me?"

"Nothing much...except that I want you to stop fooling yourself. You might as well be on the same side as me. You, Claire, are a thrill seeker. You love the adrenaline of doing forbidden things, feeding off those thrills and any power or advantage you gain from them. Not all that different from me. Your excuses for not going after what you really want in life are threadbare at best…You have the potential to take whatever you want if you would just let go of your fruitless morals."

Her conscience came through in Wesker's spell of smoke and mirrors, and she shot to her feet. So fast, her head spun for a moment, the light burn of the wine she had drank sizzling in her gut.

"You know nothing about what I want. This conversation is over," Claire ordered. "We're done here."

Wesker sighed, pushing himself out of his seat, seemingly unaffected that she desperately tried to flee his influence. "If you insist. But you won't be able to run from the truth forever. Sooner or later, you'll see that I'm right."

Claire chewed on her lip, this strange mix of dread and excitement making her woozy. She wanted it to go away, but she had a feeling it was about to get a lot worse.

The STARS leader returned to her with her parka in hand, holding it as she slipped into it. He leaned in close as she got dressed, murmuring into her ear, "But I think you're wrong...I think I do have a pretty good idea of what you want, Claire...you're merely postponing the inevitable."

His hands held her shoulders as Claire stood there with her back to him, petrified at being called out. No, he's lying. He's setting you up, don't listen to him!

Okay, maybe he did have a pretty good reading on her, she finally had to admit to herself. But she wasn't about to admit it to him. No! Never!

The narcissistic asshole rubbed his hand down her spine, smoothing out the wrinkles of her parka. The electric spark that ignited every fiber of her body made Claire spin around and face him directly.

The younger Redfield was aware of what would happen if she wasn't careful. He had done exactly what she had been warned about, using her defiance and denial against her to seduce her. She felt so exposed to how easily he had read her, when she couldn't even admit it herself.

Wesker opened the door for her, but there was an underlying challenge there in his show of chivalry. "After you, dear heart."

Claire told herself there were two choices here. If she walked out that door, nothing would happen. She would be returned home to her brother. But maybe she would only be "postponing the inevitable", like he said…

But her own bravado wouldn't let her walk out that door. Wesker led her right into a standoff of power he knew she wouldn't back down to.

It was one thing to dwell among this vicious pack of wolves and howl with them like Nikolai had advised. It was another to mess around with the Alpha.

Her heart may have been beating on her ribs, but she wasn't about to give into him lying down. She had one last act of defiance up her sleeve that she hoped would wipe that smirk off his face, since her obvious hesitation told him he had her right where he wanted her.

How much worse can it get anyway? Fuck it!

The redhead pushed herself onto her tip toes and kissed him. She was so determined to spite him and gain some kind of control, she didn't care what kind of fire she had just started. And what did they say? If you play with fire, you're going to get burned.

When her brother's corrupt boss slammed that door shut after returning her reckless kiss, Claire knew she would get burned tonight. But if the smoldering in her chest and thighs were any indication, she wasn't at all concerned. Even her initial irritation at him for not being taken off guard by her initiation - had he been expecting this after all?! - was soon forgotten.

What Claire quickly learned was that he was a great kisser. The taste of the merlot was on their lips, fuel for their fervent kissing. Her hands squeezed his shirt, tugging him closer.

Just as she was cursing his height, one strong arm wrapped around her lower back and picked her up. Effortlessly. Like she was a pillow. She squeaked in surprise, having never been picked up like that before. Her legs, through no control of her own, instantly wrapped around his waist.

He walked somewhere, but Claire couldn't determine where while they smacked lips. She felt drunk, but she hadn't ingested that much wine. Eager to taste more of it on him, she pushed for entry into his mouth with her tongue.

Wesker did allow her entry for a few precious seconds before he dropped her on something soft. A quick glance as her fingers found their way under his shirt determined it was the back of one of the leather sofas, which allowed her to be closer to his height sitting down while he remained standing.

"For someone so determined to stay in denial, you sure are eager," Wesker teased.

"Shut up!"

His smirk infuriated her as he dipped lower to suck on her neck. Claire tried pushing him away but it was like trying to move a brick wall. "No marks where Chris can see!"

He seized her ponytail and tugged hard, and Claire figured he was about to reprimand her. She hissed, but soon her hair fell down all around her face. He kissed her throat, and although his hands explored, he kept her steady on the furniture.

He kissed her ear, and Claire was certain he would tell her that it wasn't his problem if he left marks on her.

"Don't worry, dear heart. It's our little secret." Wow. She was surprised he was being considerate of her wishes. Or maybe he just liked being clandestine. "No promises for next time though." Never mind.

"There won't be a next time," she claimed.

The STARS Captain didn't reply to that, although his lips quirked upward, blatantly cocky. Instead, he claimed her lips again, giving her a tongue lashing of a different kind.

Claire kept her legs clamped around his waist, helping her keep balance as they kissed and sucked and explored. She soon became quite aware of the growing bulge pinching into her thigh.

He pushed on her, as if instinct told him to pin her down onto the nonexistent floor. If she leaned any further back, she'd fall onto the cushions.

Wesker quickly grew tired of bothersome clothes. He ripped her shirt off and tossed it aside. Claire had already long discarded her stuffy parka.

When she tugged on his nice, black shirt to be tossed, he obliged without hesitation. Claire stared, her hands eagerly roaming over his muscular torso and arms. He was ripped! He made the few college guys she messed around with look like weaklings, and they were jocks.

"Like what you see?"

The part time spy could only nod, throat suddenly dry. She expected him to come back with a highly conceited reply, but he spared her once more.

"Good. So do I."

About that time, an experienced flick of his hand popped her bra strap. Her bra fell to the floor. Claire removed her hands from exploring Wesker's chiseled chest in the midst of a deep kiss to cover herself. Her wrists were snatched before she could do so.

"No more hiding...no more games," he ordered.

His hands stroked up and down her sides, over the peaks of her breasts and fondling them. His rough kisses skimmed from her lips, down her throat to her nipples, driving her mad. The younger Redfield's chest felt like her ribs would shatter any second from her heart. Heat pooled between her legs, her nerves sparked at every ending.

Wesker claimed one perky breast in his mouth, one muscular arm curled around her back, arched from the swirls and patterns from his tongue. Claire grazed a hand through his gelled hair, pushing her crotch into the hardened mass cradled in her thigh. It was so big she didn't understand how he could stand it still being confined.

A few grinds against his at attention member with her groin and he half growled, half groaned and released her breast from his teeth.

"You're awfully bold. Just remember it isn't a good idea to start what you cannot finish."

Another challenge. He knew just how to push her buttons. And that was exactly how she got into this situation, giving him exactly what he wanted.

"It's not my first time. Now, you gonna get this show on the road or what?" Claire hoped he didn't see through her false bravado and thinly veiled attempt at glossing over her nerves.

Besides, it may not have been her first time having sex, she'd done it a few times with college guys she knew, but Wesker was a whole different level than them. She was intimidated, but did all in her power to hide it.

"As you wish," he snickered. Yep, he saw right through her defense.

He leaned in, kissing her a few times on the lips, and just as Claire was relaxing, he bent and bit the side of one breast. She gasped, eyes shooting open and next thing she knew he pulled her off the couch to stand.

"Undress. Now." The authority in his voice both irked and aroused her.

She obeyed...stubbornly. Claire took her time sliding out of her pants and panties after kicking off her boots. It was hard to do with his eyes on her, head slightly cocking as he enjoyed every second of it. Why did he have to have such daunting and beautiful eyes?

Quietly, he admired her curves and athletic body. He must have sensed her incoming sarcastic comment on his silence because just as she opened her mouth, he kissed it right off her lips. One hand closed dangerously around her throat just before he shoved one knee in between her legs. He hoisted her right back up on top of the sofa, like she weighed nothing again.

It did little to interrupt their make out session. Wesker's hands were a strange mix of rough and smooth, and petting over her silky skin, it roused every little inch in goosebumps. She could feel the power in those hands, strong enough to kill her without much effort if he wanted to.

The fact that Wesker was so dangerous only fed Claire's libido. Besides it all being wrong and forbidden on so many levels, he was a very attractive man, megalomania aside. The college guys, or boys she might as well admit, she could've beaten to a pulp if she wanted to. Her brother's boss was the ultimate dominant male with a killer twist.

His hands retracted from her body, disappointing her until she heard the clinking of his belt buckle. Her pulse quickened at that and then skyrocketed when she heard his pants unzip.

Wesker slid her hindquarters out from the couch, balancing her on the back of the couch to the curve of her back. Her legs had retained their hold on his waist, but she held onto the cushions for dear life when he began kissing her breasts and stomach, slowly heading south. His hands caressed around her hips and squeezed her buttocks.

"Not to worry, Claire, I won't be dropping my prize anytime soon."

She wasn't worried about being dropped though. Strangely enough, she was used to his mocking tone by now that she knew it was his very own, if somewhat odd, way of reassuring her, even if he was bragging in the process.

He pulled out of her legs just far enough so he could kiss her pelvis and thighs. One hand spread her legs open a bit more, the touch as electrifying as a lightning storm. She was plenty wet now, could feel it lubricating her inner canal and vulva, preparing for an invasion.

Wesker tested with one finger, rubbing her clit in a soft circle before entering it inside her. He smiled into her abdomen as he sucked below her belly button. The second finger insertion caused her to groan louder than she cared to admit.

"How many partners have you had?" he asked. He sounded generally curious, and not at all mocking as he usually was.

Why did he care?

"T-Two." It was hard to concentrate with his sharp kisses in between her legs. "Why does it matter?"

He chuckled. "It won't after tonight."

What the hell does he mean by that?

The younger Redfield had no time to come up with a remark before his mouth took her pussy. She gasped, death gripping the couch cushions, letting the stimulating euphoria from her core spread through her body like a wildfire.

Her captor kissed and sucked on her clit, tongue rolling and sliding in marvelous patterns. Her previous partners never did this, only concerned with getting off themselves. Pressure continuously built as he lathered her with his tongue. Breathing became labored, her heartbeat was incredibly loud in her ears. Her legs wringed under him and she whined his name just as it became too much, on the verge of losing it.

But he stopped then, denying her right at the brink and she cursed under her breath, the high crashing from her brain and flustering her.

"Oh, did I stop too soon, Claire?" he teased. To provoke her further he rubbed his thumb over her wet opening and up over her clit and she involuntarily bucked from both anticipation and frustration.

"Sadistic asshole," she growled.

He didn't deny her insult, and probably would have agreed with her if he hadn't pushed himself over her and forcefully took her lips again. Her aggravation was soon forgotten as their kissing quickly became feverish and fierce. She let go of the sofa and let her hands explore his toned build. Her juices swapped between their lips and, really, that wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be.

Claire slipped her hands down his exposed briefs to get her hands full. And she really did get a handful. He was way bigger than the last two. His rock hard member was at full attention in her hands, and Wesker softly groaned while kissing her jugular.

He must have sensed her trepidation though because he rose slightly, whispering into her ear. "Don't tell me you're losing your nerve just when it's getting interesting."

"N-No!" she snapped, his words perfectly rejumpstarting her resolution.

He kissed her jaw. "Then how about you finally admit to me what you really want? What I know you want…?"

A breath hitched in her throat. Claire couldn't admit it. She refused to! His mind games continued to torture her, but deep down she realized there was no hiding it. The secret was out...

"You…"

Wesker smirked. "Good girl."

Claire freed his cock from the confines of his pants. It was thick and long with a bulbous tip. The blood-filled flesh solid and ready. Quite ready.

Wesker grabbed her wrists and moved them away, sliding her legs out from the couch just a bit further. Claire gripped the couch again, her legs snaking around his waist, pulse palpitating in anticipation of what was about to happen.

Her lower back dug into the top of the couch when he bent over her again, but she didn't care. She wondered how it would feel with his whole weight on top of her. His kiss was potent, dizzying, like a shot of strong liquor.

The redhead's proverbial fiery attitude and impatient nature got the better of her, and she huffed, "I'm waiting," as she shivered, feeling his tip at her entrance.

"Good things come to those who wait," came his smug reply, his amusement apparent in his teasing undertone.

He penetrated her in one strong push, stretching and filling her all at once. Claire hissed at the pain at first, but it soon ebbed. Wesker gave her a moment to get used to him before he started rocking her. Slowly and steadily at first.

Claire's arms snaked around his back, stabilizing herself as her body see-sawed over the couch in each of his thrusts. He had a near death-grip on her hips; he wouldn't drop her.

She groaned into his claiming lips, each kiss seemingly getting more and more possessive and zealous, in league with each buck of his hips that grew stronger and faster. His dick glided in and out, covered in her juices and his pre-cum. Each time their pelvises connected, the tip of his cock rammed her cervix.

Claire moaned, the sweet, itchy pressure returning from within her canal, building at each of Wesker's powerful strokes. She squeezed her thighs around him tighter, fingers clenching into his muscular back. He returned her mewling and restlessness underneath him with a low groan, lifting her hips slightly for deeper access.

"I want to hear my name when you cum," he growled.

Several hard, deep thrusts later and the pressure blew, igniting her nerves, a drug-like high overcoming her senses as her body wracked and wringed in pure bliss. He kept pounding into her, even as she howled his name in drunk rapture. Her nails cut deep into his back as her whole body pulsated. She didn't have time to inhale precious air from her loud moans before Wesker silenced her completely with another dominating kiss.

His next few thrusts were erratic but even more penetrating, stretching her, preparing her body for his hazmat. Hot jets of Wesker's cum disgorged into her, coating her walls, filling her to the brim, almost sending her over the edge with another climax.

His slowing thrusts finally came to a stop, and all that could be heard was Claire's panting and Wesker's satisfied huff that warmed her throat. They stayed where they were for a moment, coming down off their ecstasy. Wesker still held Claire up, which was good because her limbs were useless now.

Wesker slowly, and dare she think reluctantly, pulled out of her. He picked her up off the couch and sat her on her own two feet, holding her steady. It gave her an odd, warm, fuzzy feeling to realize that he was waiting for her legs to be working properly again before he let go of her, preventing her from embarrassing herself by faceplanting right before his eyes after he turned her legs into overcooked spaghetti by the grace of his magic tongue and dick.

Huh. It's almost like he cares. Oh, who am I kidding...

He left her side long enough to get them some towels from the nearby kitchen. Claire took one gratefully and wiped up the mess between her legs. Wesker cleaned himself off and rebuckled his pants and slipped his shirt back on, watching Claire slowly and wobbly get dressed. There was no telling where her hair tie went. Her red-brown tresses would have to remain down for now.

Coming down off the high from the erotic encounter, Claire almost felt in shock of what exactly happened. She had just had sex with her brother's boss, the corrupt Captain of STARS, one of Raccoon City's most prominent men.

The younger Redfield was firstly ashamed of giving into him, letting him manipulate her right where he wanted her. She felt guilty doing that to Chris, especially in the middle of trying to protect him.

But at the same time...she was strangely intoxicated and satisfied with it. Sex with Wesker was a completely different experience than her previous, inexperienced partners. Addicting and alluring, and by far more gratifying. The thrill and danger from such an immoral coupling only confirmed that Wesker had been right about what she hid away.

That still didn't make her a bad person...right? Not like Wesker, anyway. Not like the rest of the wolves.

Her inner turmoil was only interrupted when Wesker picked up her parka and dusted it off, not that it got dirty laying on the super clean floor. He didn't offer it to her just yet, the two of them staring at each other in silence. Claire felt that Wesker was waiting for something, but she had no clue on what.

"And here I thought you would have something obstinate to say," he finally said with a smirk that was a bit less satirical than usual. "Trying to defend your recent questionable lapse in judgement, I'm sure. Strange, I only get silence."

She glared at him. "This," she motioned between them, "makes me nothing like you. And don't even think for a second it will make me help you hurt or kill innocent people. You might be a little right about the thrill-seeking, but that's it."

"It's liberating when you're honest with yourself, isn't it? More so, it's sensible," he countered. "In contrast to what you might believe, I don't purposely seek out people to hurt or kill, and they're rarely ever innocent. I only do so when they're in my way, it's convenient, or if I need to make a point." He stepped behind her and put her coat on for her. "The three men you helped me gain control over this evening, however, do, very much so. Do not worry yourself over their fates. They're well deserved, I assure you. Believe it or not, I am the lesser of two evils...this time. Now, any other self-justifying proclamations you wish to share?"

This guy was a real piece of work. She bit her tongue. "No."

He sighed, checking his watch. "Well, dear heart, I should get you home. It is getting late. Big brother will be back soon. Pity. Follow me."

He wrapped his arm around her lower back, urging her along towards the door. Her stomach flipped, the nerves in her back shivering delightfully. And she gulped on the inside, realizing her body would now naturally respond to him. She had unwittingly put herself in a much more dangerous situation because of her own stubbornness.

She only prayed Chris would never find out.

[gloves94]

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 3

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: 

Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War… But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life’s purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness…

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

1 9 9 1

Albus Dumbledore seemed like a kind man. Then again, that was when you compared him to old, grouchy Mr. Cowell, a man who had given Nel the impression that all old people were bitter and limped with a cane.

The Headmaster took the girl to a place called The Leaky Cauldron. It seemed to be a blend of a pub and a hostel. There were many people there all wearing odd or peculiar robes, something the eleven year old interpreted to be wizarding fashion. The place was dark and stuffy, yet it was better than Wool's. Hell, anywhere was better than Wool's. On the way there the man had explained to her some of the more complex intricacies of the wizarding world. Rules that she ought to know, decrees of secrecy, the difference between wizard and muggle currency, amongst more information.

In part Nel cried on the way to the Leaky Cauldron which made her face swell. She had never once left Wool's, even worse she had never been completely alone and apart from Lucy.

"I'm afraid I have more pending matters to attend. Busy day, the day before the first day of school you see? Which is why I've appointed a professor to escort you and aid you in gathering your school supplies," Dumbledore said. He gestured to a man that was approaching them that reminded Nel of a giant bat.

The professor was tall, with a large nose and shoulder length black hair dressed all in black. His lips were fixed into a serious thin line and he looked beyond irritate to be here. Overall he seemed to carry an cloud of gloom and looked to be permanently irritated. He looked like somebody that shouldn't be crossed.

"This is Professor Snape," Dumbledore introduced. "He's the Potions Master at Hogwarts and will also be your professor this year." "Professor, sir" she nodded her head towards him respectfully unsure of how to proceed. Respectfully interacting with adults had never been her forte.

"Miss Saintday," Snape simply acknowledged her.

Dumbledore nodded her to head to her assigned room and leave her small suitcase there. She did and on the way wondered at everything in sight, opened the wrong room and encountered a mummy, opened another door which had a strong gust of wind blow her back into the wall before closing before reaching a normal one she assumed was her own.

Oh how she wished she could tell Lucy. She would not believe the things she was seeing! Once again her eyes swelled with tears and she returned to meet Dumbledore and Snape who seemed to be having a quiet discussion about private manners.

Dumbledore looked at her with an unreadable expression, it wasn't exactly empathy but something else in his eyes. Maybe wariness?

Snape looked at her and his expression became even more irritated at the girl's red, swollen face.

"There will be no foolish weeping in my presence Ms. Saintday," he didn't even offer her anything to wipe her face. He starred until she wiped her tears and nodded. "Are you done?" He drawled out sarcastically poking at her tantrum.

They were about to leave when a man approached them.

"Oh, this is Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore signaled at a stammering man who was wearing a purple turban over his head. "He'll be your Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"F-F-Fascinating subject," he stammered trembling. He looked down at the girl. "I-I look f-forward to h-h-h-ha-" Nel looked at him oddly wondering if he'd ever cough up the word. This was the kind of thing that would get you roasted back in Wool's home. She didn't even want to think about the pain of having this man as her teacher. "Having y-you in m-my c-c-class."

She was about to respond but Snape beat her to the punch.

"I've wasted enough of my time as it is," He interrupted rudely obviously referring to the man's speech disability. He raised a hand and perched it in the back of her neck walking her out of the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's go get your school supplies."

"Where are we going sir?" She asked as they approached a brick wall that was near the pub that was littered with trash. "Diagon Alley," he stated as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

"What's that?" She asked. "Why are we going there?"

"Are you going to be asking questions the entire time?" His voice dripped of irritation.

"Can't help being curious sir," she said a bit more teasingly this time.

Snape grumbled something to himself and pulled out his wand tapping a pattern which made the bricks shift away revealing a bustling street.

Eyes wide, mouth gaping, the eleven year old starred in awe. Snape eyed his student and the edge of his lip turned up.

"We're here," He said in a nasal tone.

Witches and wizards scampered and bustled from one side of the street to the other. Most wearing pointed hats and robes. Children and what Nel assumed to be students also gathering their school supplies were looking from parchments and up and the magical displays on the stores' windows. Others were simply happily chatting with each other, gladly going about their day or enjoying an ice cream by a nearby parlor.

There were sparks everywhere, owls, and clouds of vapor rising from the chimneys of the stores which seemed to have been erects centuries before.

It was incredible.

Everything caught her eye, everything was new, everything was exciting. The stimuli almost made the child feel giddy. At the end of the street there was a massive white marble building. It stood striking and mightier than the others looking official.

"What is that?"

"That's Gringotts," Snape explained. "It's the wizard bank. It's where you would keep your money if you had any."

Ouch.

"Sir," She frowned at his jab. "That was a low blow."

The edge of his lip curled upwards in amusement.

"Ran by goblins, despicable creatures," he ignored her response.

The two past several stores and Snape sighed in annoyance whenever Nel pressed up her nose to basically lick the display glass windows and marble at the items inside like many other children. Flying broom, beautifying potions, owls? This place was better than Wonderland!

"I'm leaving you here to get your robes fitted. In the meantime I'll go get your cauldron, quills and other equipment that your school curriculum requires. When I return we'll go to Flourish and Botts for your text books and then to Ollivanders for your wand and then back to the Leaky Cauldron. Understood?"

She nodded with mock obedience and the slightest of sly smirks made way to her face. Snape looked at her with mistrust and arched an eyebrow. "Don't test my patience Saintday."

Nel was taken into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where Snape paid for her uniform and robes using the scholarship money that Dumbledore had given him before stalking off.

The girl would've never admitted it but she was nervous at the trying. She had never owned any new clothes, much less anything that had been made and customed to her perfect size and fit. Madame Malkin was a blonde witch elegantly dressed in mauve who escorted the girl inside of a room and asked her to stand before a mirror. She dropped a black robe on her shoulders and took her measurements. Measuring tapes and pins began dancing around her body magically pinning and measuring her perfect fit. She was too distraught and excited to pay any attention to the two eleven year old boys that seemed to be bickering just a couple of feet away from her.

It took about an hour for her to have her brand new robes ready and neatly wrapped in a purple paper wrap with a golden string. Nel was alone and snape wasn't back. Her eyes wondered up the street where she saw Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. She liked her lips, the temptation of an ice cream cone to much to keep her waiting for the potions professor. Maybe she didn't have any money, her eyes wondered to an older wizard who was sitting nearby obliviously reading the newspaper. How hard could it be to pickpocket a wizard? It was tempting, definitely very tempting. She gave a sneaky step forward ready to sneak around the oblivious man. "Going somewhere?" Snape's nasal drawl made the girl come to a halt. "Nowhere professor, sir," she said spinning on her foot flashing him her most saccharine innocent grin, but Snape was no fool he knew better. He seemed to be dragging along a levitating trunk with the required items on the shopping list. He rolled his eyes.

"Sir can we get some ice cream?" She pipped, jumping a little as they walked in the direction of the parlour "Please?" "No," he said dryly without missing a beat. Still walking in the direction Nel was hopeful that he would change his mind but instead they went to the book shop called Flourish & Botts.

She groaned as they walked in. Nel had never particularly enjoyed reading. She didn't even like the smell of them as she walked into the bookstore which seemed to have walls and walls of them from the floor all the way up to the ceiling.

Snape walked around with familiarity waving books with his wand for her to hold. She held them in her arms the stack growing bigger and bigger until it reached past her nose. The weight of them making her strain as she walked.

"I have to read all of this?!" She said in horror.

"I've added some extra-curricular material which will be useful to you."

Nel was more than certain that the man was torturing her.

"But I hate reading!" She protested fighting the urge to drop the tower of books. "Too bad," he responded dully without any kind words of encouragement. Again he seemed to enjoy seeing the student in distress. Nel had a feeling that Snape's class was not going to be a walk in the park.

"Ah, Severus. Thought that was you," a smooth voice called.

The teacher and student turned around and faced a tall man with silver blonde long hair that reached his mid chest. It was sleeked back elegantly and wore the type of robes you'd expect to see an eccentric Muggle millionaire wear. The man wasted no time and focused his icy eyes on the student sizing her up by her black oversized jumped and washed out corduroy pants that used to be brown but were now a faded gray beige color.

"I didn't know you had a daughter," he commented leaning forward with the slightest of interest.

Instead of looking shocked or offended Nel arched an eyebrow at her teacher.

As an orphan it was normal for Nel to wonder who her parents had been, what had they been liked, what had they looked like. She had spent years wondering who these people might have been and why they would've felt compelled to abandon their daughter at the step of an abbey during a cold October night.

The thought of Snape being related to her was a far stretch. However, both did have similar features. The matching dark hair and eyes and the beauty marks that dotted both of their faces, it was no surprise this strange man had made such an assumption.

According to what Dumbledore had said earlier apparently not all witches and wizards were descendent from magical parents. Others were also "Muggle born" as Dumbledore had explained. Which was the most likely scenario with Elowen's parents.

"I am simply escorting a new student," the professor responded curtly. "I see," He said with disdain. He stretched out an arm and pulled a pale, blonde boy with a pointy face that had been standing nearby reading by the shoulder. "This is my son, Draco," he introduced. "He's starting his first year as well. I can assure you, you can expect nothing but great things from the Malfoy name." "I'm sure," Snape responded in the same dry tone he had denied Nel some ice cream and continued the conversation with the man. It genuinely looked like could care less. "Know what house you'll be in yet?" The boy asked, his voice had a snooty edge to it as he sized up the girl just like his father had a moment ago. He looked like the type of boy that she'd pick pocked when taking the tube. "No," She answered, trying her best not to seem confused by his question and to hide the spots of her sweater that had gaping holes and lose threads in them. Dumbledore hadn't mentioned anything about houses. She was going to be in Hogwarts? That was the main house no?

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, obviously," he said matter of fact tone. As if it was the most obvious statement in the world. "But I'm sure I'll be in Slytherin, all my family have been. It's the best house. Isn't it Sir?" He said trying to capture the professor's attention. Again, Snape remained oblivious to this and continued deep in conversation with his father talking about who knows what. Nel looked at him with a bored expression, it was that same tone that prissy kiss ups like Aisha used to talk to Ms. Wool. She had a gut feeling she wasn't going to like this boy much.

"Imagine being in Hufflepuff!" He scoffed. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mm," she simply hummed in response mindlessly agreeing with him. Really uncertain of what to respond.

"Why is he here with you anyways? Where are your parents?" The boy pressed on with the conversation. He seemed almost curious. Nel glared at Snape impatiently simply wanting to pay for the damn books and get out of here as soon as possible.

"I don't know," she responded flatly. It was one of those questions that you got asked all the time when you were an orphan. "You don't know?" He raised his eyebrow in disbelief.

"What's your name anyways?" He raised his head to attempt to look taller.

"Elowen," she simply said really trying not to stretch this conversation anymore than necessary.

"Elowen what?" He pressed.

"Elowen Saintday," She answered.

"I've never heard that surname before," he said sounding confused. Right. That's because it's made up. "Where's your family from anyways?" He inquired raising an eyebrow. "Your parents, they're our kind, right?"

The girl guessed that he probably meant magical people when the boy asked what 'kind' of people they had been.

Hogwarts was going to be a new start, a fresh sheet of paper to start a new. She didn't want to get to school and be immediately known as the orphan girl. It would brand her identity for the rest of her days there as far as she knew.

"France," she lied through her teeth.

She wasn't aware that the boy's father had also had an ear glued to his son's conversation. He looked down and actually spoke in French to her. She wasn't sure just what he had said, just stood pale having been caught in such an obvious lie.

"Ms. Saintday is an orphan," Snape explained placing a hand on the nape of her neck a gesture he figured he often did with his students. "Since she has no non-Muggle guardians the Headmaster has entrusted me with the task of escorting her through Diagon Alley today to gather her school supplies."

Her ears burned from the embarrassment. Not of being an orphan but of having been caught in such a blatant lie. She wanted to glare at Snape why did he owe this man whom she had never seen in her life an explanation?

"You're a Muggle born and an orphan?" The boy with the slick back gelled hair scoffed at her almost mockingly, his words dripped with apparent disgust as he looked at her with disdain.

"So?" She spat back in a challenging tone ready to lower her books and sock him in the eye.

"Be flattered a Malfoy even spoke to you!" He tossed back pompously.

It was then that his fathers cane came between them. He slapped his son across the chest heartedly making him step back. The cane was black and at the handle had the head of a silver snake carved into it.

"Now, now, Draco, don't be rude," the father said to his son in a cool voice. There was something about it that was unfriendly. Between taking a hit from this guy's cane or Cowell she would've taken the old man any day. She flinched when she felt something cold on her face. It was the end of the man's cane, the snake, the ends of it brushed away her brown bangs from her face revealing more scattered beauty mark dots on her face. "What an odd mark," he remarked in wonder looking at the dotted constellation on her face. "Where did you say you were from again?"

"We best get going," Snape interrupted.

Finally. Just when she thought her arms were going to give out. "Very well then," the parent dropped it. He bid his goodbye to Snape and turned away. "See you at Hogwarts," the boy her age said before turning away and following after his father.

"Pompous prick." She muttered under her breath.

Snape lead her away and the books went into the levitating trunk that was following them around.

"There's something you should know about the Wizarding World," he began.

She simply arched an eyebrow expecting an explanation.

"Next time do not be so trustful. Not everyone who exerts kindness to you had good intentions Ms. Saintday."

Was he referring to the two rude blondes that they had just met? They were being kind? What conversation had Snape been listening to?

"There are some families in our world that think that they are better than others simply because they come from generations of wizarding families. They call themselves purebloods. All of their names are registered in the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

There was a deep sense of bitterness that boiled in her. Perhaps it was because she couldn't even trace her family tree one generation back. Maybe she'd be just as pompous if she could. Regardless, big deal. All of their ancestors were dead as dust anyway. Not like it mattered. "And I'm guessing they're in it," she glared at a random spot in the crowds as they approached the wand store.

"The Malfoys? Yes. They've only married magical people and themselves for generations." Snape explained.

"Yuck! That's disgusting!"

Snape neither agreed or disagreed with her statement. "They look down on magical creatures, and specially on muggle born wizards."

"And what are you, sir?" She asked. Unsure if it would be considered rude to ask. Snape remained silent ignoring her question. Typical. "And what am I?" He turned to look at her for a second.

"Muggle born. Obviously," he drawled out his voice.  

Perhaps he was right.

Snape continued to explain to her more of the Wizarding World that the Headmaster seemed to have left out. He explained to her that Hogwarts had four houses in which students were sorted into according to the virtues and values they esteemed: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Snape, a Slytherin himself, was the Head of the House. However, he didn't seem unbearable like that boy they had just met. He also briefly spoke about a wizard ominously addressing the taboo name as 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' which made her roll her eyes. However, the stern look the man gave her a look that meant it was to be taken seriously. Apparently he had been the most powerful wizard of the day and had been taken down by an innocent baby.

She wondered if Snape was messing with her but judging by the grave look in his eyes, he was being dead serious.

Ollivander's was an ancient building that would've made Wool's look like the house of the 21st century. The letters on the door read: Ollivander's - Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.

Well, that was a long time ago. The bell tinkled as the two stepped inside. Like every other store Nel wondered with awe at the products inside. Rows and rows and columns and columns of long thin boxes filled the shelves of the room. The air was dusty and the light was dim. "Good afternoon," a voice said.

Nel whipped around looking for the source of it and was taken aback when an older man emerged from behind a stack of wand boxes. He had silver hair and large grey almost white eyes. She couldn't help but wonder if he was 1,700 years old like the store.

"Hi," she squeaked.

He looked at the girl and at the Professor and greeted the professor. "Ah Severus, seems like only yesterday you were here buying your first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, made out of English Oak. Phoenix Core. Good for magics of the natural world. I'm sure it's been useful to you in your potion making?"

Snape didn't say anything. He simply stood next to the student with his hands crossed behind his back. "I'd say it favors you," he turned to look at the eleven year old who was looking between them like a game of tennis. "It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, after all." He said getting so close to the girl that she inched away from him uncomfortably. It took several tries and testing several wands to select the right one. None of them seemed to be the right fit.

"What if I just take this one sir?" Nel said growing frustrated holding a brown wand, she had forgotten just what type and core Ollivander had said it was.

"Nonsense. No two wants are the same Ms. Saintday, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand" the man shook his head determined. "Most peculiar," he hummed to himself. "Very, tricky customer…"

Nel looked at Snape with worry. What if she never found a wand? Just like she would probably never find out who her parents were. The teacher however simply looked bored out of his mind, wearing his typical emotionless expression. "I wonder.…" The older man said scratching his chin. He walked away into a hallway and walked a long, long way to the very back. Nel and Snape saw him reach for the very top and pull out a wand box. "This wands been here for a long time. Almost as long as I have," his thin lips stretched into an smile yet it wasn't friendly. The girl couldn't help but wonder just how long that had been. She also couldn't tell if the man was growing more and more frustrated or excited.

"Now Ms. Saintday, why don't you give this one a try?" In total they had tried twelve wands, this being the thirteenth one. He blew on the lid which was covered in a thick blanket of dust from age and opened it to reveal a white colored wand.  "Yew and therstal heartstring. Thirteen inches. A most peculiar and grim combination. Just give it a wave."

Without much hope she reached in for it and gave it a quick flick and golden sparks exploded from the tip signaling this wand had been the one.

"Hey!" She beamed triumphantly standing up straighter. This wand felt different from all the other ones. It was an oddly satisfying feeling that couldn't be explained. Her palm felt warm with it in her grip. There was a certain welcoming feeling. It just felt easy, like it made sense for her to have possession of this wand. The wand was long, pale and simple with a slight curve at the end for a better grip.

"Bravo, very good Ms. Saintday," he pondered. "Curious thought… That wand has been sitting in my shelves for almost a hundred years. I was starting to think its owner wasn't going to show." The man seemed to be drawn deep in thought. Ollivander was about to continue speaking. He was about to explain the grim symbolism that yew represented, the tree of death, and the heartstring of a therstal, the creature that embodied death, misfortune and aggression, together in one wand.

"Better late than never, eh?" Nel laughed obnoxiously before waving her wand again making a stack of wand boxes explode and go flying up in the air. Making the shop owner go silent.

"There will be no foolish wand waving in my presence Saintday!" Snape scolded from behind. She flashed him a cheeky smile in return and apologized. Mr. Ollivander wished her well packing the wand for her in its box and Snape and Nel left with a quick apology.

"I can't wait to get good at this. I'm going to be the best witch in my class sir, I know it!" She gloated enthusiastically with much pride as the two made way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Snape was practically dragging his feet at this point of the day. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the childish girl he had been stuck with all day.

Snape walked Nel to her assigned bedroom in the Leaky Cauldron where he left the already organized trunk packed and ready to go. He had a feeling this girl was the chaotic type that would just toss everything inside of the truck and carelessly shut it.

"Also," He said catching her attention. She turned to look at the professor and he stretched out an arm and from underneath magically  is pulled out a small cage. It was a tawny brown owl. "You'll need it," he said putting the cage on a nearby table.

"Really?!" She looked at the bird with disbelief. She had always wanted a pet, but having lived under Wool's strict thumb who strictly forbade it. The closest thing she had ever had as a pet were several of those pink lizards that lounge in your backyard. The type that can grow back their tails and eat roaches. She was waiting for him to take it back to say that he didn't mean it. That it was all some mean spirited taunt.

"What will you name it?"

She looked at the owl's large marble like beady eyes which starred back at her curiously.

"How about John Paul? I can call you JP!" She suggested to the owl. Thinking about the names of the two lead singers of that band that Lucy really liked, she decided to name it after them.

Her excitement was so much that she didn't notice Snape visibly cringing at the suggestion of the name. "Its name is Barberry," the professor was left with no choice but baptize the owl and save it from the misery of bearing what he considered to be such a ridiculous name.

"Thank you so much sir!" She was so happy she could've cried.

Snape stepped back and out of the room before he was trapped in a dreadful hug. Children really were not his forte.

"One last thing," he said pulling an envelope from the inside of his cloak. "Your ticket for tomorrow," he began. "You are to report at Platform 9 and 3/4 in King's Cross Station on September 1st. Train leaves at 11 in the morning sharp. Do not be tardy Ms. Saintday." He warned the last part. "The train waits for no one and I doubt you will be the exception."

Snape also explained that her dinner, breakfast and lodging had already been paid for by the school. He also mentioned that other Hogwarts students would also be lodging here and to not hesitate and ask for anything I required with either them or downstairs.

"Do not make me regret leaving you here alone," He looked at her with a no nonsense expression on his face. "Wouldn't dream of it sir," she responded with a glint of mischief in his eyes. With that the dark haired man left.

Nel spent part of her day beaming like a dork. She leafed through some of her text books (mainly to look at the drawings and pictures) fed her owl and felt the fresh fabric of her new robes. She still couldn't believe she was the owner of a brand new pair of clothes. That were hers and only hers. After some time she figured it was time to go downstairs and find a phone to call Lucy and let her know she was okay.

Seeing the eleven year old leaning over the bar counter in between several witches and wizards must've been a funny sight.

"Oi!" She said loudly to capture the bartenders attention. "Do you have a telephone?" She asked.

"A teli-what?" He said back just at loudly confused.

"Telephone," she mouthed louder making a phone sign with her hand and pressing it to her ear. The bartender shrugged not knowing what a telephone was.

"Did you hear?" One witch said to the other one over Nel who was sitting in between them. "Harry Potter is staying at the Leaky Cauldron. I saw him earlier, shook my hand and everything!" She gasped as she spoke about this celebrity. "Who's Harry Potter?" Nell asked curiously glancing around the room. Afterall she had always wanted to meet a celebrity. However, she had always hoped it'd be Sean Connery.

Both witches gasped as if she had just said the most horrifying thing.

"The Boy Who Lived?"

"The One Who Took Down the Dark Lord?"

"He survived the killing curse from You-Know-Who! Left a mark in his forehead! Saw it myself!"

"Defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named being only an infant! And lived to tell the tale!"

He must've been the person Snape had brushed over earlier. The witches continued yapping their mouths off until Nel nodded her head understanding and left the bar. She sighed in frustration and retreated to one of the large tables to have her dinner. Sitting down alone, she looked around the room still not used to the unusual aesthetics, decoration and fashion of this new world. She ordered a butternut squash soup and loaf of bread for dinner, something she had never tried before but turned out  to be to her liking.

"You know where I could get a telephone?" She asked the waitress again who simply shrugged saying she had no idea what that was.

It was then that she felt somebody starring at her. She raised her head from her dinner and her dark brown eyes met a pair of green-blue eyes. She arched an eyebrow curiously at the boy with round glasses who was looking at her with the same curiosity. He stood before her wearing clothes maybe just as ratty and oversized as hers.

"You were looking for a telephone?" He asked almost timidly.

She nodded not saying another word as she ate her soup. Noticing he was holding a tray with his dinner as he stood next to her.

Nel thought he was about to say he knew were to find one or that he would help her look for one but instead he walked around the table.

"Can I sit?" He asked egg shelling around the table. Again not saying another word she signaled him to please do so.

"So you're a Muggle-born?" He asked sitting down across from her placing a tray with a sandwich and some juice on the wooden table.

She had to admit she was a bit hesitant in interacting with him, specially after how rude that other boy had been just earlier that same day. She also thought about Snape's warning. She was really hoping this boy wasn't one of those pureblood fanatics he had mentioned.

"Yeah, you? Are you a student at Hogwarts too?" She asked trying not to seem too interested.

"I figured. I don't think wizards know what telephones are and yeah. It's my first year," he said taking a bite of his dinner.

Why was he having dinner with her? She figured his parents must be somewhere nearby.

"Oh and were are your parents?" She asked mindlessly sincerely not caring.

"They're dead," He answered flatly. His tone wasn't bitter, it almost sounded more as if he was stating a fact.

"What a coincidence," she lowered her spoon. "Mine too… probably," she said the last part more to herself. Part of her wished to know for fact knew that they were. It'd make everything a lot easier. It would make her existence and abandon less lonely. "I'm sorry about that," she added with a small smile.

If there was something Nel believed in was that orphans had to stick together. The world was already cruel enough as it was.

"My name's Elowen by the way, but my friends call me Nel," she stretched out a friendly hand. He took it with a small smile.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

[fxkthatdairy]

PANIC ROOM CHAPTER THREE: HOMEBASE ~GRAYSON DOLAN

Overview- In the year 2020, to solve the problem of overpopulation. Selected few are thrown into the PANIC ROOM simulation. If the person finds their soulmate in the simulator and manages to survive, they are able to rejoin the rest of the population. If they fail they will become a victim of the PANIC ROOM. What happens when (Y/N) gets thrown in the PANIC ROOM? Will she survive? Or will she fall victim to the simulation?

Warnings: severe angst, violence (epilepsy warning for the photo ⚠️) Heavy language

First Casualty: Emily Brown The announcement rang through the whole complex. Not even five minutes in and shit has hit the fan. This was going to be more difficult than Grayson and I knew.

Grayson led the way as the wilderness surround us. From what we could hear, we were lucky and got thrown in a secluded part of the huge arena. We walked, careful of our movements and noise levels, we didn’t want to attract anyone near us. We eventually found a creek with a nice secluded area perfect to set up camp. Grayson pulled out the tent they had provided for us and set it up. He also put bushes and leaves around it so that it was hidden from the human eye. I grabbed the machete and carved our initials in the tee beside it so that we knew that this was our tent. Grayson and I then decided we were going to go exploring, not far from our base, to see if we could find any food or extra ammunition. I spotted a huge package of what seemed like food and ammunition near the trunk of a tree. I reached down to pick it up when I felt like something bit into my hand, I let out a small screech of pain and began looking for what bit me. My vision began to become blurry as if I was hallucinating. My hearing went fuzzy and my balance was thrown off balance.

“(Y/N) are you okay? What’s wrong? What happened?” Grayson questioned as he helped me sit down to the ground. Everything went back to normal and I was about to respond to Grayson saying that I was fine, until it seemed like a whole swarm of spiders began to crawl in from all around me. One of my biggest fears was of spiders. I hated the way they looked, moved, lived, I hated spiders so much. My heart began racing fast and my breathing was getting heavier and heavier as they approached closer and closer. I began curling myself in a ball as the hot tears ran down my face.

“(Y/N) you have to tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you. I need you to breathe.” Grayson said calmly. How the fuck was he so calm, did he not see the fucking swarm of spiders coming to fucking eat us alive?

“Sp-sp-sp-sp-spiders. Everywhere, they are fucking coming to eat us alive Gray.” I said through my hyperventilating breaths. Grayson looked around and saw nothing but he did spot a vile of something next to where she was stung. It read: Fear Serum. It looked completely empty and then he put two and two together. This was part of the simulation. She was seeing one of her fears that weren’t actually real.

“(Y/N) listen to me. There are no spiders. This is the simulation trying to scare you to death. Look at me, look me in the eyes, take a deep breath, in,” he said and I stared into his eyes taking a deep breath in,” and out, let’s do what we did in the room. Just keep breathing. Realize there is nothing here to physically hurt you. The spiders are fake; they are a figment of your imagination.” He spoke softly and calmly as he continued to breathe deeply with me. Soon everything around me began to disappear. There were no more spiders; only Grayson. My heartbeat stabilized as well as my breathing. I wrapped my arms around Grayson and held on tightly.

“Thank you, they are gone now, thank you for helping me Gray,” I said as I pulled away. I felt my cheeks heat up slightly.

“You’re welcome (Y/N), now let’s keep going.” He said grabbing the package that (Y/N) had originally been going for and placed it on the duffel bag that was around his shoulders. I stood up and dusted myself off following behind Grayson.

“So what exactly happened to your dad if you don’t mind me asking,” Grayson said as we walked along the trail.

“I don’t remember much. I remember we were in the car heading to the grocery store when a car came out of nowhere and t-boned us. From there I remember the ambulance and then being in the hospital and the doctors telling me that my father had been killed and my mother was in surgery.” I said as I honestly pushed down the memories of the accident a long time ago.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could have helped you through it all. Losing a parent is hard especially when you’re young, I know personally, my dad passed away last year and it still hurts to this day.” He said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry Gray if you don’t mind me asking how did he pass?” I asked still following behind him at a slow pace.

“Well, a few years ago he was diagnosed with cancer. The doctor told us he had about a year left but he pushed for two and a half more years. When he passed, I felt lost, I still feel lost. He was my best friend.” Grayson spoke softly. I completely understood. The memories I remember of my father were all happy and he was my best friend and I remembered the months I felt sad but I had to remain strong for my mother who was falling apart in front of me.

“I’m so sorry Gray. Grieving is the most important part. You have to feel that shit and then eventually it gets better. It never goes away but it gets better.” I said as I wiped away a stray tear that had begun to fall down my cheek.

“Does it really?” He said looking at me with hope.

“It does Gray, you just need time and people around you that truly love and care you and you have that with your mom, brother and sister.” I desperately wanted to say myself as well but I pushed that aside.

“Thank you (Y/n)” he said and continued walking.

“So why did you never reach out after everything? I missed you you know.” He said.

“Well, my mother has never truly gotten over my father. So I had to grow up fast. I began taking all my course that I needed and I graduated by the time I was 15 and able to get a job. I then began working two jobs to help support my mother and myself as best as I could. I never had time to be a child or a teenager because I needed to take care of my mom. So I shut everyone out. I became a loner because that was the only way I could deal with my situation.” I said. Grayson stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“I never knew. I wish I would’ve been able to help (Y/N). You deserved a childhood. I promise you when we get out of here I’m going to show you everything you missed.” He said and then turned back around and continued to walk. Grayson felt sad and frustrated, he wish he had been around to help provide money, provide her a friendship where she wasn’t alone, he wanted to be there for her but that’s in the past and you can’t change the past but in the future, he’ll make sure she’ll never have to go through something similar to that ever again as long as he was alive. He wanted so much to turn around, grab her by the waist, pull her in close, and kiss her deeply on the mouth but he knew it wasn’t the right time. He heard two people arguing intensely and grabbed her and pulled her behind a tree and placed his hand over her mouth. He brought up a finger to his mouth signaling to be extremely quite. I nodded in obedience.

“You don’t have to kill me, we can make it out together Thomas. Please put the gun down.” A lady’s voice could be heard.

“Oh, Jessica that would be nice but see I simply can’t do that. This is all about survival and I can’t make it with you. You’re weak, you’ll just slow me down. I love you though see you on the other side.” A man who I assumed to be Thomas spoke. I heard the click of a gun.

“Thomas no please do-“ a loud gunshot rang and the lady’s voice stopped. My body trembled and tears began running down my face. Grayson kept one hand over my mouth so that I would not make a noise and the other on his gun. Grayson knew he was going to have to be extremely quiet until Thomas went away. If not Grayson would have no choice but to put a bullet through his head which he already wanted to do because he killed the woman he supposedly loved because she was extra weight on him. That wasn’t real love. He would never kill (Y/N) because she was too weak. He would carry her till the end and if she died, he would die with her.

Another Casualty: Jessica Webster . The announcement rang. Grayson and I stood as quietly and still as humanly possible. We heard a scattering of footsteps began running in the opposite way. Grayson peeked around to make sure everyone was clear. We waited five more minutes for Thomas to get as far away as possible. Once the coast was clear we backed away from the tree. I saw the bloody body of Jessica and the look of fear of betrayal that was still etched on her face. I turned away as silent tears fell down my face. Grayson grabbed my hand and led us back to our home base. Once we got back to camp we locked ourselves in our tent making sure we were completely hidden. We opened the package that we had found on our journey. Inside the package were more ammunition, a few pocket knives, and some bagged snacks such as chips, nuts, and some m&ms, as well as two sandwiches. We gladly ate the sandwiches as we didn’t even realize how hungry our bodies were until we saw the food in front of us. As we were eating my mind kept going back to Thomas and Jessica, they were in love and he killed her simply because she was the weak link. I then realized how I could be considered the weak link to Grayson.

“Hey Gray, Can you promise me something?” I spoke softly, the fear laced in my voice.

“Yeah of course (Y/N).” He said and looked up concerned.

“No matter how tough it gets, push me through, don’t let me quit and please don’t kill me because I’m weak,” I said as a tear fell down my cheek. The fear of everything truly had hit me now.

“Oh (Y/N), I would never,” he said reaching over and wiped the tears that were coming from my eyes,” we are in this together, I would never kill you. If you were to die I would die as well. I care too much about you to shoot you because I thought you were the weakest link. If you weren’t with me when that douchebag killed his girlfriend because he was a lazy fuck and didn’t want to risk his own life to keep his girlfriends alive, I would’ve killed him. But I didn’t want you to see me angry. I knew you were already scared and I know you don’t like violence.” He said softly and stroked the side of my face with his thumb gently. God Grayson's heart beater heavily in his chest, even scared shitless with a tear-stained face she still looked like the prettiest girl in the world to him.

“Thank you, Gray. That means a lot. Thank you for caring.” I said a placed a soft kiss on his cheek and let out a yawn. All that crying made me extremely sleepy.

“No problem (Y/N). How about this, you get some sleep and I’ll watch out and then once you feel rested we will switch. I feel we are in a good enough spot that nobody would find us but I want to have double protection just in case.” Grayson said and laid the blanket on top of me. He sat in front of the tent door from the inside watching the shadows outside. He looked over and saw (Y/N) sleeping soundly and fell even more in love. He knew he would gladly die for her. He knew he had to protect her at all costs. He watched intensely outside to make sure nothing or no one snuck upon them. He also stared at the fake stars, he saw a fake wishing star but he said fuck it and made a wish anyway. I wish (Y/N) and I will make it out of here alive so that I can ask her to marry me and we can have a family and a future. I also wish she feels the same way as I feel about her.

———————————————————————

Part three is done! I hope you guys enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on how the series is going so far.As always let me know if you have any requests, concepts, or blurbs. Part four will probably be up in the next few days. Part seven of The Principals Office should be up within the next couple of days as well. Love you guys 🥺😊💛

Tags: @dolanshellyes @graysavant @graydolan12 @flowery-dolan @dolan-bliss @justordinaryjen @fandomsfeministsandothershit @dolans4lyfe @lanelessdolan @pineappledols @reblogserpent

[seasonofthegeek]

It’s About Time

This drabble is a ko-fi request from the outstanding @astrangetypeofchemistry featuring Marinette and Nino with the fanfic mash-up tropes: time travel and accidental virgin. :D

___

Nino blinked and he was suddenly watching Ms. Bustier as she explained an upcoming group project. Either he was having a very realistic dream of his past self or something had gone very, very wrong. He glanced to the side and Adrien’s smile shifted from pleasant to concerned. 

“You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”

“Huh?”

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m...not sure.” He stared at his best friend who was at least a decade and a half younger than he’d been when Nino saw him at dinner only a few hours ago. He turned enough to look back at Marinette in the hopes that she knew what was happening but seeing his wife as her fifteen year old self was too jarring to comprehend in the moment. He turned back and stared down at his desk, ignoring Adrien’s worried glances.

This wasn’t right. This was the past. He shouldn’t be here, not like this. 

Alix. This was her fault. He was going to kill her.

He glared back at her but she was just as young as everyone else in the class and seemed completely oblivious to his staring.

“Okay, so maybe not,” he muttered.

He looked down at his wrist and the Turtle Miraculous was missing from the grouping of bracelets he hadn’t worn in years. He swallowed hard. The scars he’d grown accustomed to seeing on his hands were no longer there and the pink glittery nail polish his daughter had sloppily applied before bed was missing from his middle and ring finger. He wasn’t just seeing the past, he was his past self. 

He thrust his hand into the air. “I need a hall pass please!”

There were chuckles from around the room but Ms. Bustier nodded, though he could see the confusion flit through her eyes. Younger Nino would’ve never interrupted her like that but he was too freaked out to play pretend at the moment. He grabbed the pass and escaped the classroom as quickly as he could.

___

In another time...

Nino groaned at the incessant beeping of an alarm. It couldn’t be time for school already; he was too tired. He felt like he’d only just fallen asleep. He reached out to where his his phone should’ve been on his nightstand and his knuckles bumped something that clattered to the floor with the wail of an electronic siren. Nino bolted upright, heart pounding, and saw a toy firetruck laying upside down on the floor in front of the nightstand, lights flashing.

Had Chris snuck that into his bedroom at some point? He didn’t remember seeing it before he went to sleep.

“I thought you were kidding about making me wake up this early too,” a voice mumbled from the other side of him. “I don’t wanna go to the gym. ‘m a sleepy bug.”

As if in a horror movie, Nino felt like he was turning in slow motion towards the voice. In the dim morning light coming in through the curtained windows, he could make out a mop of dark hair and the rest of the person was hidden under a pile of blankets. He jolted away and fell out of the bed. He yelped as he landed on the firetruck and the sirens started all over again. A plastic pony and a toy cat tumbled from the nightstand as it shook from his fall and landed in Nino’s lap. The alarm on his phone finally snoozed and he struggled to catch his breath.

“What in the world?!” The blankets rustled and a familiar face was looking down at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

Nino felt what little air he’d gotten back in his lungs rush out again when he recognized who was on the bed, though she didn’t look quite right somehow. “Marinette?!” His voice cracked and he scrambled backwards, belatedly realizing he was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. He tried to cover himself awkwardly as she reached over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. 

“What just happened? You’re going to wake up Violet.” She rubbed her eyes and Nino took in the shorter hair. The mussed ends were tipped in red just above her shoulders. When had she changed it and why was she in his bed?! 

She stretched and Nino felt his face heat up when he realized she was wearing a very small, very thin tank top and little else. This is not how these dreams usually went. That thought reminded him that he’d had a certain type of dream about Marinette, many dreams in fact, and it made his skin flush hot and he tried to look anywhere but her and ignore the way his body was reacting. The familiar feeling of guilt edged in to dampen his teenage hormones and he latched onto it as he tried to find his bearings.

“What...you can’t...why are you here?” He looked around the room wildly and didn’t see anything recognizable. “Where am I?”

Marinette eyed him worriedly before turning her head towards the closed bedroom door. “Wayzz, Tikki, I think we need you!”

“Wayzz? How do you know about Wayzz?” Nino looked down at his wrist to see the Miraculous in place where he wore it whenever Ladybug called on him. He’d never gotten to take it home though. Nothing made sense in this dream. He stood up shakily and spotted a robe draped over an armchair in the corner. He grabbed it and pulled it on, realizing belatedly it must belong to this Marinette who wasn’t quite the Marinette he knew. The pink ruffles tickled his neck and he pushed them away and felt a scruffy beard along his jaw. What the hell was going on?

The kwamis appeared through the door and Wayzz immediately circled Nino.  “Oh, this isn’t right at all,” he murmured. 

“Little dude, you have to help me. I don’t know how I got here but this isn’t me,” Nino pleaded. He cast a sideways glance at Marinette and felt his skin run hot all over again at the thought that they’d been in bed together with very little on.

Wayzz frowned. “There’s something surrounding him that...hmm, perhaps? But no, that would be unwise; however, not impossible. Nino, how old do you think you are?”

“I’m fifteen.”

“Oh.” Marinette’s eyes went round with surprise. “Oh! No wonder he’s so freaked out. I’m going to kill Alix.” She pulled the blankets up around her shoulders self-consciously. “I thought she was joking about being able to do this!”

Tikki fluttered over to Nino but quickly went back to Marinette when he flinched. “Oh no, is Fluff up to her tricks again?”

“When we were at dinner last night, Nino and I were joking about wishing we knew how we felt back when we were younger since we wasted so much time not being together. She said she could fix that with one little portal and we all laughed but...” Marinette scrunched her face. “This doesn’t make sense though. Why send younger Nino here? Does that mean...” She trailed off as realization set in. “Oh no...”

____

In the past...

Now that he’d had time to freak out, Nino was feeling better. He couldn’t be stuck here. His Marinette wouldn’t let that happen. He just needed to get somewhere that might help with everything.

He decided to skip going back to class and went to the park so he could still watch when everyone left school. He needed to catch Marinette and talk to her. Maybe they could go to Master Fu and figure out how to get him sent back to his time. He wasn’t enjoying being fifteen again, though it was nice not to have a constantly aching lower back. 

Maybe he shouldn’t tell younger Marinette at all. It would probably freak her out. He couldn’t believe they’d just been talking about this at dinner with everyone. It seemed too much of a coincidence and he would definitely be having words with Alix and Fluff when he returned to his proper self. They were punks, the both of them.

He started off towards Fu’s and was surprised to hear Marinette calling his name. He turned back to her and the smile he’d forced into place became genuine as he watched her stumble over her own feet trying to catch up to him. She managed to find her balance before she fell and made it to him with a self-deprecating laugh. 

“You didn’t happen to see that, did you?”

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten how cute she was when they were this age, but things had been so different between them then. She’d seemed off-limits, even after he and Alya parted on amicable terms. Alya... 

He strained to try to remember if they were still together right now. They might be. He’d need to be careful. He didn’t want to risk changing anything for the worse if he could help it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he winked. “Graceful as always.”

Marinette blushed and ducked her head with another laugh. “Sure, sure. Are you okay? You didn’t come back to class. Adrien was really worried.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He adjusted his hat on reflex and had forgotten about the nervous gesture of his youth. “I just need to go see someone about a problem I’m having.”

“I don’t want to keep you then. I’m actually on my way to see someone too.”

“Master Fu?” Nino regretted the words as soon as they came out when he saw Marinette’s reaction. “He’s who I’m going to see too,” he winced. 

“Are you getting a massage or something?” Her voice had risen an octave and there was a strained edge to her smile.

“Not exactly. I, uh...” He looked around to make sure they were relatively alone. So much for not changing anything. “I think something happened with the Miraculous because I’m not supposed to be here. I’m Nino from the future.” He looked down at his bright blue shirt. “Well, at least in my head I am, my body, not so much.”

Marinette took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve chosen me to be Carapace at this point, haven’t you? I’m not exactly sure when I am but I know it has to be close. This feels about right.”

She blinked. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am.”

“Who else is from the future? Alya?”

Nino shook his head and did a quick glance around again. “I haven’t talked to her, but I think it’s just me.”

“You were just talking to her before class started.”

Nino frowned. “I think whatever happened was during the lecture. I was suddenly just in my younger body and in the class.”

“This is so weird.” She covered her face and groaned and then dropped her hands. “Okay, let’s go see what Master Fu has to say.” She set off in the right direction and Nino quickly fell into step beside her.

“So you believe me?”

“I’m finding it hard to, but you wouldn’t joke about something like this. I’ve seen some really weird stuff at this point and I don’t think I should question it too much. And the Nino I know definitely doesn’t know I’m the one who gave him a Miraculous.”

“Someday you’ll even let me keep it,” Nino grinned.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm, but I probably shouldn’t say too much else. I don’t know what could change.”

They made it to Fu’s building and started up the steps when Marinette made a thoughtful noise. “Do you think you’re in your past or a past dimension? Those could exist, right? I started looking into it with all the time-hopping stuff with Bunnix. You do know about Bunnix, don’t you?”

“I’m pretty sure Alix has something to do with why I’m here actually,” Nino scowled. “As for that though, I’m not sure. This feels like my life was. Wouldn’t another dimension be different?”

“Not necessarily but it wouldn’t be exactly the same, I guess.” She perked up. “Of course, now it isn’t your past if you don’t remember this happening to you, right?.”

“I didn’t think about that. That’s...worrisome.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

They stopped in front of Fu’s door and Nino was suddenly reluctant to go inside. “I have a really great life,” he said. “I wouldn’t want anything to change that. I married an amazing woman and we have a beautiful daughter and we’re still heroes. It’s kind of great.”

Marinette clasped her hands together with a happy squeak. “You and Alya get married and have a baby?!”

“What? No.” He caught her shocked expression and grimaced. “I mean...I shouldn’t have said anything, I guess. I just don’t want any of that to go away.”

He turned away from her and knocked on the door but could still feel the weight of her gaze on his back.

___

In the future...

“Are you going to keep staring at me like that? Do I really look that different?” Marinette tugged on the ends of her hair. “I mean, this is new, but to be fair, it’s new here too. Kagami talked me into it when she was getting hers bleached. Do you like it?”

Nino wrapped both hands around the warm mug of coffee she’d given him as if it were a security blanket. “It’s, uh, it’s really pretty.”

She flashed him a bright smile. “Thanks. Are you hungry? I can make something for breakfast while we try to figure this out.”

“I’m not sure I could keep anything down at this point,” he admitted.

“That’s fair.” She faced him and hugged herself. She’d thrown on a large hoodie and Nino couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or relieved. “I’m really sorry this is happening to you. Just know that you’re safe here with me, I promise.”

Nino felt a better than he had since he’d woken up in the strange place. “I know, Marinette. Thanks.”

“Daddy! Daddy!” There was a commotion of banging and the sounds of claws tapping against the hardwood floor and a small girl with wild hair accompanied by a large gray dog rushed into the kitchen. The girl jumped up and Nino caught her out of reflex from his younger brother doing the same thing so many times.

“We’re going to the park today!” she announced and smashed his cheeks with her tiny hands. “And the zoo too!” The dog bounced around them happily.

“Sweetheart, we may have to wait to do that. Daddy isn’t feeling well today.” Marinette sent Nino an apologetic look as she gathered the little girl from his arms. 

Nino stared at the small child with dark hair and big golden eyes. She stuck her bottom lip out and it took on a slight tremor. 

“How about you and Daisy go turn on some cartoons and I’ll bring you waffles?” Marinette suggested brightly. “Then we can talk about the park and the zoo.”

The little girl considered it, looking between her parents and her dog, and then her pouting lip was replaced with a smile. “With chocolate chips,” she instructed and then turned on her heel and patted her dog’s head. The dog faithfully followed after her, tail wagging.

“Sorry. I thought we’d have a little more time before she woke up.” Marinette moved around the kitchen, getting the things she needed to make waffles.

Nino stared after the girl and then looked back at Marinette dumbly. “Is she...”

“Yours?” There was an amused glint in her eyes. “Did you see her? It doesn’t even look like I had anything to do with her and I’m the one who had to carry her for nine months. Unfair if you ask me.” She faltered when she saw his expression. “Goodness, sorry again. It’s...we joke about it a good bit. I wasn’t thinking.”

He nodded and looked down at his hand. There was a titanium wedding band on his ring finger, along with sparkly pink nail polish haphazardly painted on two of the fingernails. “We’re married,” he said slowly.

“Yes.” Marinette kept her back to him as she worked.

“And that’s our daughter.”

“Violet,” she offered.

“Violet.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

She did turn back to him then and a delicate eyebrow rose as a smug smirk played along her lips. “How?” she echoed. “Did you want a play by play of the night it happened?”

Nino knew he was dark red from the tips of his ears to the tips of his toes as he sputtered in response. His virgin mind was all too happy to immediately come up with possibilities. “That’s not...I didn’t mean...I’m with Alya!”

“Right.” She took in a deep breath. “Look, don’t worry about it. For all we know, you’re a Nino from a different dimension. You and Alya could have a really beautiful future together. I just want to get my Nino back and I’m trying not to freak out about it.”

An awkward silence settled over them, punctuated by the sounds of Marinette preparing breakfast. 

“What’s he like...or I’m like?” Nino scrunched his nose. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to ask really.”

“My Nino is my best friend.” Marinette poured a handful of chocolate chips into the batter she’d just started. “We’ve been friends since we were young and apparently both had feelings for each other on and off and then, I don’t know, one day it just clicked for us.”

“Did he date Alya too?”

She pursed her lips. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious.”

“He did and they had a really great relationship. We’re all still close. She married a web guru so they pretty much rule the world together. They’re ridiculously in love.”

“Oh.” He absently scratched at the nail polish. “What about Adrien?”

Marinette smiled then. “Adrien’s a stay-at-home dad to five kids and he’s trying to convince his husband that they can adopt more.”

Nino matched her smile. “So he’s happy too then?”

“Very.”

“That’s good to know.”

There was a pause and Marinette set the mixing bowl on the counter to give him her full attention. “You know you shouldn’t tell anyone about all this when you get back, right? It could really mess up people’s lives. I’m hoping that somehow you won’t remember it but I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”

“It’s kinda just making my head hurt right now.”

“That’s understandable.” She returned to her task and gave him her back so she could start working at the stove. “We can talk about whatever you want if it makes you feel better though. It’s still pretty early but I’ve sent texts to everyone so hopefully we can all put our minds to it and figure things out.”

Marinette jumped when two strong arms wound around her middle. “Aww, babe, you called the calvary for me.”

She pulled away enough to study him. “Are you you?”

Nino laughed. “I’m guessing younger me had a very interesting trip then?”

“Oh!” Marinette turned so she could fully pull him into a hug. “I was so nervous something bad was going on. What happened?” She only released him enough so that she could look up at him and Nino fondly moved some of her hair behind her ear.

“I have no idea. I went to bed with you and then suddenly I’m sitting in Ms. Bustier’s classroom in mid-conversation with Adrien when he had that floppy hair and wore those awful orange shoes.”

“What in the world?”

“Not sure, but I’ll be asking our local time-hopping rabbit first.”

“Mmm. So how’d you get back?”

Nino gently pulled himself from her grasp and grabbed a handful of chocolate chips. “I honestly don’t know. I’d convinced younger you that I was from the future and we’d just gotten to Fu’s and then I was sitting here watching you make waffles.” He popped the chips in his mouth with a hum. “I’m starving.”

“You talked to me?! Why’d you do that? Things could be all different now!”

“I don’t feel different. Do you feel different? Oh man, how did younger me survive after waking up beside you?”

Marinette frowned. “Well, I--”

“Dadddddddddy!” Violet called as she entered the kitchen. “Daisy and I were talking and if you’re sick, we can just stay here today. That’s okay.”

Nino raised his eyebrows and Marinette gave him a helpless shrug. He moved forward so he could scoop his little girl up as she giggled. “Well, lucky for you, Miss Vi, I’m feeling all better now and I can’t think of anything more fun than going to the park today.”

“And the zoo!” Violet added with a laugh.

“And the zoo!” Nino agreed. “Why don’t you go get ready while Mommy finishes making breakfast?”

Violet let out a triumphant whoop of joy and ran down the hall as soon as her father set her back down. 

Marinette hugged herself. “What do you think our past selves are doing now? Doesn’t this kind of mess things up?”

Nino closed the distance between them and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know. I think this might’ve done them a favor. And as for us, I might love you even more than before.”

“But you don’t feel any different?” she fretted.

“Not even a little. Do you?”

She considered that. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Then let’s go get ready and have a nice day at the park with our daughter and just accept that our past selves are fine because we’re fine.”

“You know I’m going to be worried about this for weeks,” she warned him.

He laughed and pulled her into a kiss. “Yes, dear, I’m very familiar with you,” he teased.

Buy me a cherry coke?

[brideofedoras]

The Loft: Redemption

Disclaimer: the usual...  I only own my OC.  Photo found on google.

Word count: 2300+

Warnings: Allusion to past abuse and being triggered

Link to Chapter 2 (with Ch. 1 link)

Monday morning rolled around faster than Sam would've liked.  She felt her stomach churn at the prospect of not having Linda there to talk to. 

She headed to the office early with a quick stop at the bakery along the way.  Armed with fresh donut holes (plain glazed, cookie dough stuffed, cinammon sugar sprinkled, and maple glazed) and a toasted white hot chocolate, she halted in her tracks when she reached the door to the office suite. 

"What the...  When the hell did he have this done?"

Her grey eyes began to burn as she studied the frosted glass of the door. 

VMS Architecture, LLC. Vincent M. Stevens, NCARB Samantha Monroe, Administrative Assistant

She stared at her name, beautifully scripted in gold lettering on the glass. 

Linda hadn't even had that honor.

Her hand trembled as she unlocked the door and stepped into the office.  My office.

As she flipped on the light and started toward her desk she paused again, startled to find her name beautifully engraved onto a walnut name plate settled on the corner of the desk, next to a matching business card holder complete with a stack of cards with her name, extension and email. 

A ceramic flower pot sat next to the computer monitor at the opposite corner of the desk with an artfully planted variety of small cactus plants.  She let out a watery laugh at the wording on the pot: Free Hugs.  She knew the cacti were from Linda, an inside joke between the two of them based on something Linda had told her earlier in the week.  Vincent will come off as prickly for a while, but he will eventually warm up to you, Dear.  Give him time, give him space, occasionally make sure he eats and drinks if he has a very busy day.  One day he will surprise you.

A gift bag and a card were placed on the center of the desk.  Sam shook her head as she set her cup and the donut holes down, busying herself with putting her purse away and hanging her jacket on the coat rack next to the door.

She had just finished starting the coffee and setting the box of breakfast goodies on the refreshment table when she heard the door open.  She turned around and offered a warm smile when Vincent shut the door behind him.  "Good morning, Mr. Stevens," she greeted him.  "Thank you for..." she gestured to the desk set.

"Don't mention it," he frowned at the desk.  "Ready to start your first official week?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.  "The coffee should be ready in five minutes, and I picked up an assortment of donut holes," she made her way to the window and the cords for the wooden blinds.  "I wasn't sure what you would like so I picked four different kinds."

"I know Linda told you I have a sweet tooth," his tone was wry as he made his way to his office.  "I'm sure whatever you got is fine."

Sam made her way back to the desk.  As she waited for the computer to start she picked up the card propped up against the small gift.

Sam-- Our Vincent struck gold when he hired you to take over the office.  You will do just fine as his new assistant.  Don't let his prickly demeanor get to you, it's become his default setting ever since that happened.  And don't forget, you can decorate your office however it suits you, you can bring stuff in to keep in the bathroom, you can listen to your music, and you can dress however you feel most comfortable as long as you still look professional.  And if Vincent ever treats you wrong, don't be afraid to call me.  I might be moving out of state, but I can always make a trip back to knock some sense into that thick skull of his.  You can also call me anytime you want, keep me up-to-date on the gossip.  I'll miss everyone there, and even though I'd only known you a short time, I've come to view you as another daughter.  You take good care of our Vincent, spoil him with breakfast sweets and good coffee.  Make sure he eats, make sure he goes home to get some rest when the project consumes him (and it will, I've come in many a morning to find him sound asleep at the drawing board or on that damn couch.  He's a real bastard when he doesn't get enough rest, but don't let that scare you off).  Keep in touch.-- Love, Linda. P.S.- Don't forget, I left you a set of "How To Care For Your Architect" instructions tucked away in the second drawer to your left.  It includes a list of everything I know he likes, hotels and airlines he prefers, restaurants he uses for business dinners.  His favorite color is steel grey, he's a sucker for Hershey Hugs, and if he misplaces his pen, you'll find it on your desk.

Sam dashed away the tear that had slipped down her cheek as she set the card aside.  She had grown to love Linda as a second mom and already missed her.  She smiled as she reached for the gift bag and nearly cried when she pulled out a black resin cat paper weight.

She set it next to the phone on the left side of the desk before turning to the computer to log in.

 Sam settled into a routine.  Up at five, out the door by six-thirty, stop by the bakery for breakfast and for that yummy hot chocolate, arrive at the office by seven-thirty, have coffee ready by seven-forty-five, lunch anywhere between eleven and one-thirty (depending on Vincent's schedule), out the door whenever Vincent finished up for the day, home within half an hour, in her pajamas and eating a quick supper, in bed by ten-thirty.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  By her third day Vincent tried telling her she could leave at four-thirty if she wished, there was no need to stay passed office hours.  She declined.  "I was hired as your administrative assistant, Mr. Stevens.  I leave when you leave."

She found an old-fashioned candy bowl at a flea market one weekend and brought it in to place on her desk with Hershey Hugs.  She had also found a few other things she wanted to bring in, but hesitated on personalizing the office.  She worried Vincent would not appreciate finding a framed blueprint of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 or a replica of the Death Star plans data chip.

She feared they would clash with that hideous knock-off Jackson Pollock painting that hung on the wall behind her desk, above the shelves.  She hated that painting.  Why it hung in an architect's office she had no idea.  It was the only thing out of place in the office suite.  Vincent's office proudly displayed his degrees, certificates and licenses, a few framed blueprints and a framed crudely-drawn blueprint of the Castle Grayskull.  "I grew up on Masters of the Universe, had all the action figures and the castle.  I was home sick for a week with chicken pox, miserable as hell, bored out of my mind and missing my friends.  Dad came home early from work one afternoon with a bag full of crayons, coloring books and a sketchpad, gave Mom some cash and told her to go shopping, go eat, get out of the house and enjoy herself for a while.  I sat down on the floor after Dad cleared off the coffee table and we colored for a while.  Then I started drawing.  I'd always been fascinated by the design of Castle Grayskull and wanted to build one of my own.  I was seven years old when I drew that.  That's when I knew I wanted to design and build things."

She had been shocked that he had so willingly shared that childhood memory with her.  And his smile.  She'd seen ghosts of smiles before, but a full-blown smile displaying dimples had left her weak in the knees.  He looked ten years younger with that smile, and she couldn't help but smile back.

But ever since that rare moment of camaraderie he'd thrown up a wall once again, bringing their working relationship back to strictly professional, and borderline cold.  She knew he could be an easy-going man to work for, she'd witnessed the banter between him and Linda multiple times during her trial week.  She just wished he wasn't so cold toward her.

 Vincent had a meeting across town and would likely be gone all afternoon.  As he set his briefcase and suit jacket on one of her guest chairs and tossed his steel grey tie around his neck, he leveled his patented stern look on her.  The Look (TM) was supposed to be intimidating, and it used to scare the hell out of her the first few times she'd seen it (usually directed at someone else, but she'd been caught in the crosshairs a couple of times).  Unfortunately she (for some weird reason she couldn't explain) had begun to find that frowny glare to be sexy as hell.  "Ms. Monroe, if I'm not back by four-thirty, lock up shop for the day and go home," he turned toward the bathroom.  "You don't need to be pulling ten hour days because of me."

She smiled despite the blush staining her cheeks from The Look (TM).  "As I've said before, Mr. Stevens, I'm your administrative assistant, and it is my job to be here for you should you need me."

"I don't recall contracting you to work ten hours a day, Monroe," he turned away from the mirror as he finished his impeccable Windsor knot.

"Technically I'm only working nine," she pointed out as she leaned back in her chair.

"You eat at your desk half the time, Monroe," he walked out of the bathroom.  "I've seen you working through lunch."

"Only when I have a deadline to meet for your meetings," she shrugged.  "I need to finish putting together the portfolios for Thursday's meeting."

"Today's Tuesday, you have all day tomorrow."

"I'll be setting up the conference room and inventorying supplies so I know what you need."

He snorted.  "Remind me again why I hired such a stubborn assistant?"  He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it.

She scooped a small handful of Hugs from the candy bowl and held them out when Vincent approached her desk.  "At first I thought you were very impressed with my resume, then I suspected for my looks... but now I honestly believe Linda probably threatened you into hiring me."

"Your resume certainly clinched it, Monroe.  And Linda did hound me."  His face darkened a little as he carefully took the offered chocolate from her hand.  "You're going to spoil my lunch, Monroe."

"No, I'm not," she denied, watching him slip the Hugs into the pocket of his jacket.  "I know you would have snuck a handful on your way out, to go along with the handful that's likely already stashed in your briefcase."

His head snapped up.

"I had to refill the bowl, Mr. Stevens," she leaned back in her chair.  "I'll definitely need to work longer hours to afford the chocolates and the breakfast sweets."

"Use the company card, I'll figure it into the expenses," he narrowed his eyes at her.  "Refreshments for clientele."

She nodded.  She didn't mind buying the chocolate or the morning sweets, but she knew better than to argue with him on it.  Arguing had always gotten her into serious trouble when she was a teenager.  Do not go there, Sam.

"All right, I will," she agreed softly. 

"If you still have receipts, bring 'em in, I'll make sure to cut you a check to reimburse you."

"That's not necessary, Mr. Stevens," she shook her head. 

He shot her a glare.  "Yes, it is.  I can't keep allowing you to pay out of pocket for pastries and candy that my clients and associates are eating." 

I can't keep allowing you...  Sam stiffened at his words.  She quickly tore her eyes from his.  "I...  I didn't think it was that big of a deal, I'm...  I will find those receipts and bring them in," she flinched when Vincent moved toward the door.

That flinch was not lost on the architect.  He turned to look at her.  "Monroe, are you all right?"

Sam drew in a breath before nodding.  "I'm fine," she kept her eyes glued to the cat paper weight in front of her.

"Monroe, look at me."

The sudden and uncharacteristic softness in her boss' tone drew her eyes to him.  The look on his face told her he didn't believe her.  He took a step toward her and it was all she could do to not flinch away.

His frown morphed into one of worry.  "Monroe, don't worry about it," he took a step back.  "I just don't want you spending your money on things benefiting the company's clientele and associates."  He turned toward the door.  "Why don't you take your lunch, lock up the office and get some fresh air somewhere.  You don't have to stay in here when I'm out, let the calls go to voicemail.  They can wait."

She nodded.  "Okay."

"I mean it, Monroe.  Leave the office for an hour."

With that, he was gone.

Sam's eyes slid shut and she drew in a slow, shaky breath.  She exhaled heavily, shaking off the fear that had gripped her for a moment.  He won't hurt me.  He's not a predator.  He's not Terrance.   

But those words echoed in her head, words her stepfather had used quite often when she had disobeyed him.  Words he had whispered so smoothly, so silkily, as he forced her to her knees or forced her over his desk.

"Don't go there, Sam," she ground out.  "He won't hurt you anymore."

She shifted in her seat, angling her chair to face her computer more comfortably, saving the proposal she was drafting for Vincent before closing out open programs and putting the device to sleep.  She reached for her phone and dialed her cousin's desk extension.  "Hey, I'm getting ready to head to lunch, wanna join me?"

[breg21]

My Baby, Your Baby...Our Baby?

This is for @buginetta  

A couple months back she had posted a little snippet where Adrien and Marinette have to take home a baby from school for a project, which leads to a reveal. I asked if I could make a one shot out of it, and here we are!

Sorry, that it took so long! It’s been collecting dust in my google drive for a while.

This takes place shortly after Gladiator. I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 Fanfiction

Being on time for class was a rare oddity that Marinette was hardly blessed with. So she understood Alya's shocked gaze as she took her seat next to her best friend, ten minutes before class.

Alya's eyes were glued to her best friend. "Girl, what happened? How are you actually on time for once?"

Marinette's mind combed through for excuse to give. "Uh... my manman woke me up super early. She really wants me to start coming to school on time, you know?"

The truth was that there had been an early akunma at 6:45 in the morning. By the time she and Chat were finished, she figured it was too late to fall back into bed. The akuma had been a particularly nasty one and took a while to defeat. She was lucky she had made it to school at all. She was so exhausted.

But hey, she'd be able to see Adrien at least. That right there brightened her mood for the day entirely. Slouching back into her seat to relax for a couple minutes before class started, Marinette couldn't help the love sick gaze that crossed over her eyes at the sight of Adrien's head— well, the back of it, but still.

"Alright, class." Ms. Bustier clapped her hands together to draw their attention to her. "Today, we're starting a new project, and I need everyone's undivided attention. We have a lot to cover and it'd be best to jump right in."

Everyone reluctantly turned their eyes to their teachers, causing her to smile wide. "Great. Today, or rather, for this full weekend, you'll be taking home an electric baby to take care of. And yes, before you ask, you will be partnered. I already have everyone paired up."

Everyone groaned in annoyance.

But as her classmates seemed upset by the thought of bringing home a baby, Marinette couldn't help but bounce with joy in her seat at the thought that maybe, just maybe she could be paired with Adrien.

The teacher grabbed her grading tablet, finding the names easily and began to list them off.

"Sabrina and Chloe."

Please.

"Ivan and Mylene."

Oh, please let her have this.

"Alix and Kim."

If she had any of Tikki's luck rubbed off on her, please let it be this.

"Rose and Juleka."

Just, please.

"Nino and Alya."

She only wanted this one thing to go right.

"Adrien and Marinette."

Just as she was about to bolt up out of her seat to shout out in excitement, Alya— being the good friend that she was— wrapped her hands around her waist and mouth, keeping Marinette from embarrassing herself from shouting out in joy.

The rest of Ms. Bustiers words were drowned out by Marinette's imagination running wild. They were gonna have a baby together! Albite— not a real one, but still! This was a step, then maybe they'd start dating and fall in love and get married and have three kids, a dog, maybe a cat and a hamster named-

"Girl!"

Marinette bolted up straight at her nickname. Turning to face Alya, she glared at her best friend's sly smirk. "The teacher said to go move next to your partner." She emphasized the word as her eyes landed on Adrien, who was staring at her with a soft smile.

She blushed at the word partner. They'd be together for an entire weekend. Just her, him, and the baby.

But wait. What would she do if an Akuma attacked? How would she get away? And it wouldn't be fair to Adrien if she just disappeared out of nowhere to be left with the baby.

Oh, no. This was going to be a disaster, disaster, disaster…..

She was suddenly pushed halfway out of the chair by her friend, telling her to "move it, already."

Scowling at Alya, Marinette gathered her bag and bolted from her seat moving to sit next Adrien, excitement flooding her entire being as she tried to contain any quivering her legs wanted to do at that particular moment.

"Hey, Marinette. How're you?" The soft smile he gave her was so adorable and easy. "You excited for the project?"

I'm excited to be by you.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she tried to prevent the stumbling of her words, but her tongue wouldn't corporate. "Yesh-yea….yes. I mean, yes. I'm definitely ready for the project."

Oh, this weekend was gonna be hard.

The grin he threw her made the thumping in her heart escalate. "Great. If you don't mind, maybe we should do Friday until Saturday at my place, and then Sunday until Monday at yours? If that works with you, of course."

What was her name again? "Few fure? I-I mean, you s-sure? That me good with...I uh.. Uh." She breathed through her stutter. "Tha-that sounds good to m-me."

That smile was gonna be the death of her. She swore it. "Awesome. I'll make sure that my bodyguard knows." He quickly shot off a text to whom she assumed, was said bodyguard.

Oh, if this was a dream, she didn't ever want to wake up.

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

The babies were handed out within minutes. Electrical dolls that look creepily similar to a baby when seen from afar, but up close just looked wrong.

"So, what should we name her?"

She looked up at Adrien, who was holding out the fake birth certificate, ready to write down the name of the unborn child. Would it be weird if she used the name that she planned for their actual child? Worth the risk. "Um… Emma?"

If she hadn't been so close, she would've missed the jolt that ran through his spine at the mention of the name, and she immediately knew why.

It was his mother's name.

In all honesty, that was why she had chosen the name in the first place. She knew how much his mother meant to him, and she thought the name was beautiful all on its own, so why not?

He cleared his throat as he began scribbling the name down. "That's… a nice name. It was my mother's, well, Emilie, actually. But, yeah."

Warning bells started ringing in her head as she realized what a mistake it might've been to go for that name. "I'm sorry! I didn't think.. We d-don't ha-"

He chuckled softly. "Marinette, it's okay. I like it. You're all good."

She sighed internally. "O-okay. Sorry."

He took Emma and started to buckle her up in the car seat. "No worries. Now, let's figure out how to snap her into this. I've actually never used a car seat before."

It was easy enough, thankfully, and soon they were ready to go just as the limo pulled up. Marinette had to remind herself to breathe. That she could do this. When her uncle visited the one time for the competition, she talked to him normally the whole day right before he got akumatized, she could do it now, too.

She could.

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

Maybe she couldn't.

But she was still trying as she left the limo with the baby carrier in hand. Adrien had opened her door— how was he so sweet— and then guided her into his overly large house.

They were soon the in the foyer, meeting his father who stood at the top of the staircase, hands clasped behind his back; Eyes stone cold as he just stared at the two teens. "Nahitle has informed me of your assignment with this pretend baby. I've had her clear your schedule for the duration. But understand that this is a one-time thing, and your schedule will return to normal once this is over."

He left without another word. Marinette felt absolute hallow at the man's presence, but looking to Adrien, she could tell that he was used to his stand-offish behavior and had grown accustomed to such.

That honestly broke a little part of her heart inside. No one deserved that kind of coldness from a parent.

But the smile he forced for his father turned real when he went to look at her. "Sorry about my father. He can be… brash at times."

She offered a sweet grin of her own, wanting to give him reassurance that she wasn't brought down by his father. "I-it's okay, Adrien. I don't scare too easily."

He laughed, and reached for the baby carrier to take into his own hands. "Just around me, right?" He teased and before she could even blink, let alone defend the statement, he shook whatever thoughts had clouded his head and apologized as he realized what he had said. "I mean, uh, actually-"

She blushed, but was quick to wave him off, letting him know that she knew it was all in play and that she didn't mind him one bit teasing her a little. "You're good. Now, come on, we should probably settle Emma down in your room and wait for her to need something."

She felt so alive as she saw the sparks of joy light up and grew into a tame fire within the emeralds of his eyes.

She also felt alive when he grabbed her hand— their hands were touching, actual skin to skin contact, and oh it felt so unbelievably nice— and pulled up the staircase and to his room. His hand was soft and warm, and calmed her heart and made it race at the exact same time with sparks that ignited on her skin at his touch.

She was never gonna wash this hand again.

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

The first hour went by pretty smoothly actually. Emma had only wanted to be fed once, which Adrien had insisted he took the first duty. It took some convincing, but she agreed eventually. The baby was quiet within minutes of being fed and having a bottle to its mouth.

Everything went haywire in her mind at how caring he was holding Emma.

Now, hours later, Marinette had changed Emma once, Adrien once, and they both took turns with rocking her every other time when she cried for attention. With night falling over the city, and the baby making soft cooing noises, Adrien and Marinette had put in a movie at random and were sprawled out on the couch as the characters on the screen were mutually pinning over each other while the other didn't have any idea.

"Hey, Marinette?"

She was jolted out of her movie consumed mind to see Adrien watching her with blatant curiosity and weary.

She moved to reach for the remote, pausing the movie and sat upright to give him her full attention, blue locked on green, as she tried to keep herself steady and grounded in her thoughts. Because she just couldn't get lost in those beautiful green eyes when he seemed to need to ask her a serious question.

She just couldn't. Did he know what he did to her?

She'd be lost for hours, with very little way to get back.

Clearing the back of her throat, she asked, "Yeah?"

Adrien seemed to be double thinking his question, as if he was wondering if he should really be asking what he obviously really wanted to. He took a few deep breathes, trying to stay firm in whatever decision he had made. "Why are you so nervous around me?"

Oh.

Oh, her mind breathed, and her heart did a little tight squeeze along with it. Her face burned with heat that started to spread right underneath her skin and colored it fiery red.

But, instead of answering— and in the case that she was wrong as to why he was questioning her— she could only get out, "What?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his face was anything but. "I'dunno. I just noticed that you sometimes are nervous around me and stutter and everything. I mean, I know we're friends, I don't think you hate me or anything. It's just I worry sometimes that I make you uncomfortable at times, maybe it's because of my dad? I just, I just wanna know if there's anything I could do to make you feel more at ease around me."

Of course, he would think about her like that, because that was just who he was. Her brain started up and running with the thought that this amazing, sweet, caring boy noticed her stutter and nervousness around him and was wondering just what happened that made her be like that around him.

This innocent boy was gonna be the death of her. She was sure of it.

She forced her courage forward as she took her bottom lip between her teeth. "That's not it, Adrien. You're right in the fact that you're my friend, but not for the reason I'm so nervous around you."

He looked confused, and she wanted to run her thumb out the wrinkle that had started to form between his brows to smooth it out. He scootched closer to her, their knees brushing lightly against each other. He took her hands into his and her brain almost exploded. "Then… then what is it? I really wanna know. Maybe I can help in some way?"

Her air decided to leave her then and there. Her body must've thought oxygen and breathing was irrelevant, because it was becoming harder and harder to breathe. What was she supposed to even say to that? How would she even start? Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire and she didn't know how to stop it or how to just-

"I have a crush on you."

Oh,

Oh no,

That was out loud.

Oh, dang. She definitely had not meant to say that out loud.

He jumped back as if he had been slapped by her sudden outburst— not by her actual words, she knew. Adrien would never be that cruel— as shock filled his face, face now turned to look out on the floor in front of him, but not actually looking at anything. "Oh."

She quickly backpedaled, "I'm so`sorry, Adrien. I hadn't meant for that to come out."

He gulped a few times before steadying himself. "It's...it's okay, Marnette. I just didn't know."

She gave a dry laugh. "Trust me, I know." He grimaced and she shot him an apologetic stare. "Sorry, everyone makes fun of how I'm so obvious with it."

He moved closer to her once more, patting her knee. "It's alright. I'm sorry I didn't know." He inhaled, and exhaled. "I should be completely open and honest with you. There's a.. ..girl that I work with that I really have strong feelings for." He swallowed. "And..and I've liked her for a long time now-"

Her smile was sad, but she tried. "Adrien, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

He stopped her, fierceness settled heavily in his tone. "No, I want you to understand, she's beautiful, and strong, and smart, so creative." She felt her heart drop, "But, Marinette, so are you. You're not any less than that. She rejected me recently. And a part of me still wants to try to win her over, but I don't know anymore."

She wanted him to know that she wasn't upset by his words. '"Adrien, I promise-"

"Marinette, please," His eyes were pleading, "Just let me finish what I need to say, okay?"

She nodded.

He seemed to be able to breathe again. "I care about her, I love her, but she's not interested, there's someone else that she likes. I don't think I could really do a relationship right at the moment, especially when my heads up in the air as to if I wanna try one last time, I also wouldn't want you to think you're the rebound girl or second choice. Because you deserve better than that. I need time. And I gotta be honest, even with that, I'll always love her, she'll always have a piece of my heart, I can't stop it, no matter how much I want.

But, I promise you, I'd never cheat on you. If we get together, one day, I'd give you my all, and, I-I'm honestly not sure wha-what that may all be, but you have to understand that a part of my heart does belong to someone else, and might always. And hopefully with time..."

She was the one to take his hands this time with a sincere smile, cutting off his babbling. "Adrien, sometimes honesty and a chance is enough. I'll give you space, well, after this weekend," She looked to the doll in the carrier. "And I'll let you figure out whatever you need to. I just appreciate you being open with me."

He began to rub little circles in the back of her hand. "Thanks, Marinette. It might be a while, and I hope no matter what, that we can remain friends. And for what it's worth, I'm really flattered that you like me. You really are amazing."

She smiled. "Of course we'd remain friends. And thank you."

She was pulled into a hug, and boy did she feel bliss being wrapped in a warm embrace with Adrien Agreste. It was more than any of her dreams could come up with, because it was actually real.

But, of course, as her luck would have it, that was when the baby decided to cry.

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

The weekend went by pretty fast after that.

Emma had her fussy times, that was for sure, but from what she heard with Nino and Alya, they didn't have it nearly as bad. Thank goodness. The other blessing was no Akuma attacks. That was the biggest relief.

They were now in her room, she at her desk as she held Emma in her arms and swiveled side to side in her chair to try to keep boredom at bay, while Adrien lounged on the chaise, swiping through his phone at whatever social media platform he was on.

She didn't know a project like this could get so boring.

The first night at his house, she woke them a total of only three times— each taking turns— and it wasn't too hard crawling out of bed to take care of her, she was pretty sure it had been harder on Adrien than her, seeing as she was the night owl between the two.

Speaking of beds, the thought brought a blush to cheeks, Adrien had insisted she take the bed while he took the couch. After several minutes of arguing like a married couple— shut up brain— he relented, and had suggested that they should both just take the bed.

One could only imagine what that did to her. How her heart had pounded in her ears, and her stuttering had gone from fifty to a hundred real fast. It took everything in her just to agree.

And when they woke up cuddling each other, well, that was a whole other situation for later. But what she would say, is that it consisted of two, blushing teens, and trying to apologize a million times to the other.

"Marinette, are you okay?"

She was brought out of her thoughts at the model's voice. She blinked a few times. "Huh, uh, yeah. Sorry, lost in thought."

A warm smile slipped on his lips and melted away the worry that had been wavering in his eyes. "Okay. Do you need me to take Emma?"

She nodded. "Sure." that would give her the time to be able to take a shower, something she hadn't been able to do since getting Emma, seeing as she was too afraid to leave the baby's side. Even though she trusted Adrien with her life, it was still a scary thought. "I really need to take a shower anyways."

Was this how motherhood was always like? If so, she was in for a long haul.

Leaving her chair, she walked the short distance and placed the baby in Adrien's arms, making sure the head was secure before all else.

Once tucked safely into her daddy's arms, Emma continued to make little cooing sounds as if she was the most content baby to ever be. "Thanks, Adrien."

"No problem, she's my responsibility, too."

Marinette quickly ran to grab a towel before going to the bathroom and locking the door behind her as she always did.

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

He had Emma lying on his chest when he heard it.

The boom and screams of an akuma.

Of course, just when Adrien had thought they were gonna get a break from the stupid butterflies.

Grabbing Emma, he went to her carseat, and buckled her in, making sure she was secured before going downstairs to the bathroom door and knocking. "Marinette, there's an akuma on the loose, and my father is demanding that I come home."

He heard a soft sigh before she answered, "Okay. Make sure you get there safe."

He breathed in relief. "Thanks, Marinette. I'll make it up to you by covering the whole night shift."

He scurried away before she could say anything else.

He found an alleyway close by to transform, and quickly went into the heat of the battle, hoping that Ladybug would get there soon so he could get back to Marinette and the baby.

It was a weird thought, but definitely not an unpleasant one.

Marinette realized her mistake the moment she stepped out.

She was left alone with the baby. A baby that only she and Adrien could calm with the bracelets that were wrapped around their wrists.

This… this was not good.

"Tikki!"

The little creature fluttered out from her hiding spot, worry etched onto her face. "This isn't good, Marinette."

She moaned as she buried her face in her hands. "I know." She huffed. "I didn't even think. I know how strict his dad can be, so I didn't want to make him wait any longer than he had to. But now what do I do!?"

Tikki sighed. "This isn't an ideal situation, but we have to make do with what we have, Marinette. You're gonna have to suit up and I'll make some modifications and add a baby carrier to the front of your suit. The straps will be connected to the suit, so all you'll have to do is get her tucked in and she'll be safe."

Marinette stared to rub her temples. This was not good, not good at all. "Okay, okay. We gotta do this." Grabbing the baby, she held the doll to her chest. "Spots on."

Once she made sure the baby was secured, she held the yo yo over her head, tossing it to wrap around a nearby building and swung off, in pursuit to find the akuma, and her partner.

She could only hope Chat would understand when she showed up with a fake baby strapped to her chest.

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

Chat had been through a lot in his life, from a cold-hearted father, to his mother disappearing, to having a strange creature show up in his room randomly one day and announce that he was gonna be a superhero.

He thought he had seen it all, and was prepared for whatever life was going throw at him next.

But life liked to prove him wrong.

Because not even five minutes after he had begun to battle this akuma alone— heartbreak was its name apparently, his girlfriend had broken up with him for another guy and Chat was pretty sure his akuma was in the necklace he had wrapped around his wrist— Ladybug had come swinging in, but not alone.

Oh, definitely not alone.

Because on her chest, was a fake baby in a portable carrier. A baby from their class. All functions of his brain just ceased to work, nothing was working and everything came to a slow crawl before it completely stopped.

She was from his class. Ladybug was in his school, and she had the same project with him and she breathed the same air that he did, and oh gosh, what was he supposed to be doing?

Oh, right. The akuma.

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

He was gonna have to have a long talk with her later.

With the villain defeated, they landed on a nearby roof, catching their breaths after the tiring fight.

If Ladybug was in his class, he saw her every day, yet he didn't know it, and that gave a punch to his heart, because he wanted her so much, and if he could just finally be with her and with her so close…

But what about Marinette?

He hated his brain. Truly, hated it.

Ladybug doesn't like you. Marinette does. And you know that you could easily fall for the girl if you let yourself. You could.

But would that be really fair to Marinette? To not give her my full heart?

Honesty. That's what she cares about. She's said as much. Give her a chance. You don't have to let Ladybug go to let someone else into your heart. Give all that you can with Marinette. Put your all into her with what you can, it'll be enough, even when your heart is shared with someone else. Trust yourself.

Shoving the thoughts away, he focused on the situation at hand, he needed to talk to Ladybug about this. Feelings aside, they needed to discuss this above all else.

He wasn't sure exactly on how to start this conversation, so bluntly, he pointed to the baby and asked, "What's that?"

Ladybug was startled by his brash question. "W-what?" He watched as she cradled the head, making sure he couldn't see the face of the fake baby.

"That." He pointed more determined. "The baby. From Ms. Bustier's class."

Her mouth fell open as her eyes began to bludge out of her head, the underneath of her left eye twitching just slightly. "H..how do y-you know-"

"Because I was assigned the same project, too, bugaboo."

Her breath hitched at his confirmation at her thoughts. She moved the head closer to her chest, as if to protect it from the truth. From the possibility.

That didn't stop him from moving forward, eyes begging her to let him see. To let him know. The hope that bubbled in his chest was inflating with every step and he just wanted to know, to finally put them both out of this misery.

Her grip on the plastic head loosened as he drew near. He could tell that neither of them were really breathing, but really how could they in this situation?

When his claws were in reach of the doll, he moved the baby just enough to where he could see her face. Where he could see Emma's face.

"Em-ma." He choked out.

Ladybug— Marinette's— ocean blue eyes were glossed over with a fine shean of tears. "How do you know.."

He chuckled with water in his throat. "I think I'd recognized my own fake daughter, Marinette."

Her breath hitched even further. "Guess you would, huh? I feel so stupid."

He blinked as confusion took hold now. Was she… disappointed? "What-what do you mean?"

Emma decided to take that moment to cry, but it was her attention cry, so Marinette began to bounce in her place. "I've been rejecting you for you. I feel….I feel so dumb."

Oh, that was right. Marinette had a crush on Adrien, who was also Chat, and Chat had a crush on Ladybug, who was also Marinette, which meant by default that he had a crush on Marinette.

He had a crush. On Marinette. In love, to be more like, and she returned his feelings in the end. He was the boy she rejected him for. That was irony.

Everything came crashing down around him at once as he realized just what was in front of him, or who was in front of him, and he didn't waste another second before he was cupping her jaw and running his finger along her cheek bone. "Please, Marinette….can I….?"

She nodded at his nonverbal question.

Without hesitation, his lips were on hers and all he could taste, feel and understand, was warmth. Warmth, baked goods, sweet, and just a touch of something that was undoubtedly Marinette. Something that he would image was what home felt like.

And as she tilted her head just a little, he was a goner. Forget the world. Forget the villains. This was just them. Everything else paled in comparison.

It wasn't perfect, but he was quickly getting addicted to it, to her. He didn't want to stop being addicted either.

You could love her.

Oh brain, you've never been more right.

She pulled away, only to rest her forehead against his. "Wow."

He smiled. "Yeah."

That was when she pulled away, grin spread wide on her face. "Can you detransform? I need to do something."

He nodded as he saw her grip Emma tighter and whispered, spots off as he breathed, claws in.

In a flash of light, there stood Marinette, his shy, beautiful classmate, Marinette, and he could never want anyone else.

Her hand went to outstretched in front of her, out for him to take, eyes sparkling with mischief and her smile turning cattish. His heart seemed to like that. "Hi, I'm Marinette Dupain- Cheng. I've been in love with you since you gave me your umbrella. Sorry about stuttering around you all the time. My words just turn to mush with you."

He chuckled and took her hand. "Nice to meet you, Marinette. I'm Adrien Agreste. I've been in love with you since we defeated Stoneheart the second time. Perfect timing, huh?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Yeah. Guess we're just lucky like that. For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you."

His laugh vibrated in his chest. "Me too."

She paused, but didn't drop his hand. "Maybe we could make up for lost time and go get an ice cream together later?"

With her hand still in his, he pulled her to him and pressed his lips soundly to hers.

"Yes."

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

The weekend finished out in a blink of an eye and they were back in Ms. Bistiers class, with all the other students sitting at their desks with their project partners.

Marinette and Adrien seemed to be the only ones awake, besides Rose and Juleka, and actually alive. Even Nino and Alya were slumped down on their desk, dead in their seats.

After the babies were given back to the teacher, and they were given their grade, the two teens looked on in excitement at their report, seeing an A- in bold red.

They passed with a high grade. Marinette couldn't help but feel some sort of accomplishment at that.

"Well, class." The teacher began as she stood in front of the room, "While you all seem pretty out of it, I'm proud to say that this was one of the best classes that I've had so far with this assignment. I'm very proud of you. Give your partner a congratulations. I think you've all earned it."

Adrien raised his fist, waiting for her to do the same. She did so, happily knocking her knuckles against his.

"Pound it."

Husband's bonus thoughts:

Ladybug arrives on the scene, baby in tow.

Hawkmoth looks through the eyes of the Akuma victim.

"Is that a baby?"

*Akuma victim slaps Chat*

"An actual baby? My gosh you are an irresponsible parent."

*Akuma victim punches Chat repeatedly into the ground*

"You should be ashamed of yourself."

*Tosses Chat over a building.*

"So shameful."

Husbands thoughts part II:

The two teens look to .

"A Minus! Why Minus, this thing is in perfect condition?!"

A knowing smile coming from their teacher.

"You don't take a baby to fight an Akuma."

In unison.

"How did you?!"

"Even the bad students are never as late as you two, Also you two don't even change your hair in costume."

Adrien and Marinette look at each other

"A MINUS IT IS."

[fairyscribbles]

I don’t care. (What the hell happened? Vampire!Xiumin)

Hi guys! I saw that Witness was well received, and now I’m happy to give you another part to read, this time from the side of Minseok! I hope you enjoy this, darlings! <3

-

Everything was a painful blur from when the pair of hands shook you awake and took you from your haven with the promise of safety. Too groggy to fight them, you went willingly, letting yourself be wrapped in blankets and ushered into a car, into a building, into a small, white room with one table and three chairs.

You were offered coffee, comforting smiles from two burly men and a cooing of "You are safe ma'am, we just need to ask you a few questions."

You were not safe. You were not okay, not in the least, as you felt the brand new wound on your neck throb in pain. Agony surged from the two puncture wounds into your entire body, solidifying into little anchors at the end of your nerves, holding you down in the sludge of pain from which only one person could rescue you.

And the two police officers were talking about him as if he were a criminal.

"Do you know the whereabouts of Kim Minseok?" the questions at first were gentle, and they talked to you as if they were dealing with a wounded doe. But your everlasting confusion and dizziness became tiring for one of them really quickly.

"You know who he is, do you not, miss?" the at first honeyed voice slowly turned rough, and the soft gaze hardened. You shivered, wrapping the coarse blanket around yourself tighter, trying to ward yourself from the cold that was coming from within you.

"I-I do. And...and there is nothing wrong with being a vampire, sir, just like there is nothing wrong with being human." you resolutely stated, trying to hold your ground. The supernatural beings were hunted centuries ago, and it seems that it was hard to let go of stereotyping. Nevertheless, you were ready to fight for your brand new mate.

"And I'm not saying there is, Ms.___." The cooing tone was replaced by one of an exasperated teacher losing patience over a less-than-bright child.

"But there is most definitely something wrong with being a mafia leader." you shook your head at his statement.

"Absolutely not. Minseok is not a gangster. He is a businessman."

"A businessman with blood, miss. We just raided one of his establishments and have taken more than 50 blood donors from the estate."

"You must be mistaken, I believe. Minseok would never do anything like-"

"Are you in business with him, miss?" the less patient policeman cut you off, and you stared at him, shivering, slowly more and more agitated.

"I am in no business with him. I am his mate. Need I remind you that it is against the law to keep a newly bonded couple separated?" it was general knowledge that a couple that has just bonded needed to be in close vicinity while the mating process has been established. You began to feel it yourself, the low burning slowly growing, kindling in your body and leaving you in a strange combination of feeling in an almost hypothermic state while being feverish as well.  

What you thought would be a triumphant way to make the two rough men let you go proved futile. The meaner one grinned, flashing his yellowed teeth at you.

"You don't need to remind us of the laws, miss ___, we know very well what we can and cannot do. And while making sure newly bonded mates are kept in close contact is protected by the law, the capture of a dangerous criminal on the loose is above assuring your comfort during this first week. Especially..." he leaned against the table, entwining his fingers and resting his chin on top of it, "when we can lure your mate over here and capture him."

-

"What the hell happened?" Minseok seethed, flipping over the table. The wood cracked under the force of his fingertips, splinters flying from the furniture. His expression of anger did not phase his right hand, who didn't even flinch as his boss ranged through his luxurious house.

"There was a raid in the main estate, sir. The police somehow found out about your house as well."

"Someone ratted?"

"I'm already working on finding the person, sir."

"Where is ___?" he knew immediately that you were not in the vicinity. He would've felt the constant anxiousness that was plaguing him since he left your side decrease, but at the moment, it just rocketed sky high. What the fuck was this day about.

"They took her, sir." Luhan's words made him stop the rampage, his whole body frozen in disbelief.

"What did you say?" Minseok's voice was no longer filled with fury - that was hiding inside of him, bubbling and boiling and seeping.

"She was taken into custody by the police force, under the belief she was a blood whore."

"Give me the address." Luhan was barely able to finish his sentence when Minseok turned to him, eyes blood red and determined. Knowing that it was his neck on the line this time, Luhan immediately told his boss about the whereabouts of his mate.

Minseok disappeared with the fog, slipping underneath the door and into the darkness.

-

The flimsy blanket that accompanied you into your jail cell wasn’t enough. You tried your best to cocoon yourself into the fabric on the hard mattress, but it still didn’t stop you from shivering. Were you shivering because you were cold? Because you were afraid? Was it both of these reasons at once?

Where was Minseok? Why did they claim he is mafia? Were you that blinded by love that you did not see the snake behind the roses?

Your head ached and your eyes strained against the dimmed lights, making it even worse. The jail was quiet, save for the occasional snort coming from the other occupants, taken into custody because of drunk and disorderly behavior or other offences. Minutes trickled by like they were hours, and you thought that if something, somebody didn’t come and take you from there, you will die in that dinky, small cell.

Suddenly, there anchoring agony faded.

And in front of you stood Minseok, eyes filled with a mess of anger, relief and pain.

You felt like this was all just an illusion, but nevertheless you reached out to your mate, just a tiny flicker of hope in you rooting for him actually being there. And when you heard your name in his chocked voice, his hand grasping yours, the flame spread throughout your body, rushing the tears into your eyes.

“M-Minseok,” you stuttered in a watery voice as you tried to untangle yourself from the blanket as quickly as possible to get to him, but Minseok was quicker; he was on the bed in a flash, arms enveloping your body and hoisting you into his lap. His nose immediately buried into the crook of your neck, lips gently brushing over the mark on your shoulder, the source of immense happiness but also indescribable pain.

“My love,” Minseok rumbled as he held you tight, as if there was someone who could take you away from him. And in the past hours, that someone really came. The realization of where you are and what happened came crashing back down to you and a whine ripped from your throat as you leaned back from his embrace to look into his eyes.

“Minseok, what’s all…what’s all this? Why am I here…” he kept quiet, just staring at you as his hands stroked your hair, thumbed at your tear-stained cheeks, squeezed at your shoulders in reassurance.

“The police… they keep telling me…that…that you’re a gangster…that…that you have blood whores… Minseok, they’re lying, right?” your voice grew desperate, because you felt that his silence only served to prove that the pudgy, sweaty, mean police officer back in that interrogation room was right.

“I will explain everything to you, ___. I promise. When I get you out of here, I’ll tell you everything.”

“You just have to pay them and they will let me go, Minseok. You could just…just walk up to the desk and give them money and I will be free.” Something in his eyes told you he couldn’t do that. In your pained mind, it all started to click into place. His long, unnatural hours. His partners, all thick-necked and tattoo-ridden, eyes as hard as their punches most probably were.

“They were telling the truth.” You finally said after a pause, your hands falling from their perch on Minseok’s shoulders. The retreat of touch made your mate whine, eyebrows pinched and a flurry of emotions in his eyes.

“You’re a gangster.”

“___,”

“You’re…you do run brothels…”

“I can explain everything, I promise. The second I get you out of here I-“

“No.”

It was barely whispered, but the word had the same reaction as a roar would have. Minseok stopped trying to explain, his hands frozen on your cheeks as he tried to make you look at him. Your gaze was still on the floor, away from your partner. From someone you loved.

From a criminal.

“Just go, Minseok. Before I call the guards.”

“Let me stay here for a little more, baby. The mark-“

“I don’t care. Leave me.”

“But you will hurt-“

“It’s nothing compared to the fact that I just mated for life to someone I apparently didn’t know at all.” The chuckle was self-depreciating.

There was commotion down the hall. Your conversation must have alerted somebody.

“___,” his voice was full of pain, pain that the two of you apparently shared. He should’ve been honest with you from the start, and maybe you would’ve prepared better for the possibility of a raid. Of the possibility that somebody would try to use your love to make Minseok pay for his crimes.

“I can’t bare the thought of you being executed, Minseok…just…please just go. I can’t look at you right now.”

“I’ll come back to you.” Minseok swore as he made sure that you looked into his blood-soaked eyes filled with fiery determination.

“I don’t care.” You told him, voice dead. The presence that was calming just a few minutes ago now felt like a burden.

“I’ll be back, baby, I promise. And I’ll explain everything.”

“What’s going on down there?” a new voice barged into your conversation. After the minute glance sent to the cell bars, Minseok turned back to you and pressed a long kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, ___. I’m sorry this had to happen. I’m coming back for you.”

“I don’t care.”

But as you watched your mate disappear in the ventilation, grey fog slipping through the blades, your heart clenched tight at the confusion it felt.

You did care. And it might kill you in the end.

[lotustories]

Lie To Me

Chapter Navigation

Summary: Years of friendship with 7 boys, yet you were madly in love with 1. It wasn’t a secret to anyone, except him. He never saw you that way and until he got a girlfriend, you thought he did.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader, Yoongi x reader

Type: angst, fluffy, maybe smut

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of sex, and vulgar language, typos  

“how long has it been?” Namjoon sat at the table as he watched you cut vegetables. “since what?” Your focus never leaving the food, his hand reaching over to grab a sliced carrot. “since that night at the house, cmon y/n.” He said sternly. You hadn’t spoken to Yoongi since that night. “A month.” You stopped cutting, your eyes meeting his. “he isn’t okay, I really wish he wouldn’t have acted like that and I wish you would swallow your pride and speak to him.” He stared back, waiting for your expression to change. “I shouldn’t be the one to crawl back to him, Namjoon. I already made a fool of myself following him here that night.” You turned your attention back to cutting and he only sighed. “He’s coming today,” “of course he is, he lives here joon.” You retorted and he only rolled his eyes, Namjoon paused before continuing cautiously. “You know he does miss you.” He swallowed his words, careful not to overstep his place to speak on it. “He doesn’t eat as much, he barely comes out of the room.” Namjoon poked you softly, “Please just,” he poked again so your eyes met his, “speak to him.” You gave Namjoon a soft smile and nodded. “Fine, But if he acts like an asshole, I am done.” The last words coming out softly.

The boys started coming home one by one, all in time for dinner. “Smells amazing, what’s the occasion.” Seokjin walked into their kitchen, his work uniform still on as he sat next to Namjoon. “I can throw it away.” You joked and seokjin looked at you with such a horrified expression. “I was just asking,” he face softened turning into a smirk, “You never cook here.” He finished. You felt at peace. For a slight moment, everything had disappeared. Including that horrible pain in your heart that seemed to never leave. “jk come set the table.” Seokjin yelled to jungkook just as he entered the kitchen, jungkook freezing in his tracks to groan at him. “Fine, only because I’m hungry.” He said while walking to the cabinets. “Well someone go get yoongi,” Seokjin yelled as you all walked toward the dining table. “I will,” You said softly, Seokjin turning to you in shock. “I’ll get you some water for the table, good luck.” He whispered as he left you in the hallway. You made your way to his door, your legs growing weak as you edged closer. it was as if you had ran a marathon and your lungs were becoming unable to work. You reached your hand up slowly, leaving it to hover over the door as you tapped softly, closing your eyes to calm yourself down. “what?” He groaned through the door. You reached your hand down and twisted the knob, allowing yourself to enter. Yoongi shocked at you being the one who was knocking at his door. Your mind going blank for a moment as you met his eyes, “oh, uhm,” You stuttered. “The food is ready, if you wanna eat with us.” You tore your eyes away, looking at the ground. “yeah, sure” he walked past you, giving you a cold response to your attempts to speak to him. During dinner everyone was quiet, you could feel the tension. Namjoon glaring at you from across the table to speak to yoongi. You mouthing no to him as he kept pushing you to speak. “Who’s phone keeps ringing!” Seokjin snapped, his form slamming again the table at the frustration of the constant ringing. “Sorry,” Yoongi grabbed his phone and replied to the text. “Who keeps calling you?” Jungkook asked, his mouth full of food. “Um,” Yoongi faced his phone down and looked up. “Sierra” His eyes diverting down as he picked his fork up again. “Your ex Sierra?” Your voice came out small and out loud unintentionally. “Yeah,” Yoongi refused to meet your eyes and the pain you felt slowly turned into anger. “Why are you texting her?” You asked, your eyes not leaving him. “y/n we aren’t together anymore.” The tone of his voice changed as he put food into his mouth. “So, I have decided not to move back home.” Hoseok changed the subject, his voice trying to divert the tension away. “Why?” Jimin seemed excited but also concerned as the hoseoks change of mind. “Everything I love is here, my friends, my job.” He paused while looking at you all. “I don’t want to start over.” Your eyes were still on Yoongi and it would’ve stayed that way if you didn’t get a phone call snapping you out of it. “Hello?” You answered, The rest of the boys carrying the conversations out as you listened. “Tokyo is far.” You laughed at the man over the phone. “It’s actually perfect.” You sighed, his excitement blaring through the phone as you replied. “Of course, can you just email me everything I will get back to you? I’m at dinner with family right now.” You smiled, taehyung watching you curiously. “Thank you.” You hung the phone up, shocked at what had just happened. “What was it?” Jimin asked while laughing. “Kim signed me up for this contest a while back, my art was picked.” You sighed relieved, “they want me to go to Tokyo to discuss a contract.” Jimin smiling as he congratulated you. “Your art was picked up?” Hoseok smiled, you can see how proud he was of you. “Tokyo is far, is that something you want?” Seokjin questioned, your eyes darting to him. “I already accepted it.” You voice was a whisper. “what?” Yoongi glared at you, his expression was firm. As if he was mad. “he is sending me the information later, it’ll tell me when I leave.” His face softened and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. “what about us?” Yoongi’s voice was shaky, you could see seokjin motioning for the boys to leave you two alone. “you don’t want me remember? Told me so when I crying at your door.” Your voice remained inexpressive. “besides,” you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “You always wanted her back.” You faked a soft smile and he nodded. You walked away from the table leaving Yoongi to sit alone with his feelings.

Namjoon plopped next to you on the couch, his bowl full of popcorn and m&ms. “Why do you ruin the snacks.” You laughed at him, you fingers picking up a few pieces of popcorn. “I made it better, what do you mean ruin?” He scoffed. “So when do you leave?” His voice became lower and you sighed, “two months from now.” He dropped the popcorn lower as he sighed at your response. “It’s gonna suck without you.” He admitted, his eyes staring at yours as you faked a small smile. “I’m gonna miss you and your weird snacks.” You motioned to his bowl, he only smiled widely at you. “are you sure you want to leave it with yoongi this way?” He voice barely audible. “If i was still with him, i would’ve have accepted it.” You answered, your mood going to bitterness. “I really loved him and I don’t know what went wrong,” the tears wanted to form. “but this past month, he started acting differently about me and now he’s in contact with his ex.” You blew your hair away from your face, your eyes watery. “so I guess that tells me where I stand.” Someone clearing their throat interrupted your conversation with namjoon, you turned to find Yoongi standing there with this look of concern on his face. “Can we talk?” He asked, his attention fully on you. “sure,” you lifted yourself off the couch and Namjoon have you a small nod of encouragement. Following yoongi to his room you could feel nothing but your stomach twirling and the ringing in your ears from your heart beating. “what’s up?” You asked as he sat on his bed and you near the door. “Are you gonna stand over there?” He looked up at you confused, but you only nodded back. “I want to explain myself, I know it won’t change your mind about anything, but I feel like you at least deserve clarity as to what happened with us.” His words caused you to move closer and sit beside him, waiting for him to continue. “okay.” You waited for him to finish, but he furrowed his brows and sighed. Struggling to find the perfect place to start. “Hoseok told you he loved you, and this isn’t your fault but I took it out on you.” He stopped, “I had this constant fear that you would leave me for him, your first love loves you back.” He looked up at the ceiling and laughed at himself. “I thought if I made you hate me you’d leave and my heart wouldn’t hurt as much knowing you picked him over me.” He brought his head back down and turned to you. “Truth is I love you like I’ve never loved anyone, my heart pounds like crazy and I can barely think straight when I hear you laugh.” Your mind listening before you react. “The way you sleep with one of your legs over my body as you cuddle me, the way you kiss me,” he rambled. “Everything about you drives me insane and the thought of losing it all instantly when hoseok confessed, I went and hurt you before you could hurt me.” You stared at him while he turned his attention back to his hands. “You’re an idiot.” Your voice came out in a sigh. “i did love hoseok, for a very long time.” You explained and his facial expression tightened. “And i will always love him,” he nodded, a slight roll in his eyes. “but i am no longer in love with him.” You finished and he stared up at you confused. “What is the difference?” He scoffed lightly. “the difference is when I think of my life and having that person I grow old with, have children with, that person that I marry.” His eyes softening a little bit “I don’t picture myself with hoseok, i see myself with you.” His mouth falling slightly open, not expecting you to say this. “you thought about marrying me?” he asked, the tiniest smirk on his face. “the day you told me you loved me.” he snorted “you mean the day I fucked you repeatedly saying I’m in love with you.” your smile widened and your eyes darted to his lips, you leaned in slowly. “Something like that.”

——-

I got yelled at by my friends because they were not getting back together 🤡🤡  I was ready to break everybody’s heart, but in the end hoseok was left alone so 

[stevie-steven-stevington]

Febuwhump Day 9: coma

Fandom: MCU Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones Category: Gen Rating: T Warnings: injury description? idk Words: 1.7k

read on ao3

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When Peter calls him, Tony figures it’s just to say he’s going to be late.

It’s 1:47 on a Saturday. Peter’s supposed to be here at 4:00, with Happy picking him up at 3:00, but every once in a while Peter will end up late because he wants to finish an essay first or something.

It’s not unusual for either Tony to receive a call from Peter in the middle of the school day. It is unusual for no one to respond when he picks up.

“Pete?” Tony’s immediately concerned, sitting stick-straight in his lab chair as he hears nothing but faltering breathing. “Peter.”

A strangled noise comes from the other end of the line. Tony’s out of his seat and running to the room where he keeps all his suits in less than a second. Peter’s voice finally comes through the phone. “T-Tony, I - I’m at the hospital. We - there was an accident. M-May is -”

The chill that runs through Tony’s bones might be the coldest thing he’s ever felt.

Please don’t say dead. Please don’t say dead.

Peter’s so young. Way too young to have dealt with as much loss as he always has, and way too young to have more loss added on. He’s just fifteen and he’s already more acquainted with grief than most adults are.

May can’t be dead. She’s one of the liveliest people Tony’s ever met and she would sooner look God in the face and tell him to go to hell than leave her nephew behind.

“She’s hurt, Tony. She’s - I can’t - Tony, I need you.”

Not dead. Okay.

He can work with that.

“What hospital, kid?”

It takes him twenty-five minutes to fly to the hospital Peter’s in, which is precisely twenty-five minutes too long.

He draws weird looks from just about everyone in the hospital as he hurries toward the waiting room - he had his suit fly back to the compound on its own, of course, but it’s still Tony Stark, wearing an old, worn-out AC/DC shirt and jeans and running through a local Queens hospital like his life depends on it.

In his rush to get to Peter, he hadn’t even thought to grab his hat and sunglasses. A fact he’ll come to regret later, perhaps, but couldn’t give less of a shit about now.

He finds Peter sitting in the back corner of the waiting room, Ned and MJ on either side of him with their hands clasped around his. Peter’s head rests on MJ’s shoulder, while Ned keeps glancing between Peter and the text he seems to be typing out with his one free hand. The kid’s eyes are vacant and there’s a gash on his forehead that’s covered with butterfly stitches, but he’s here.

In three long strides, Tony is standing in front of Peter. The kid’s gaze shifts slowly upward, head rising and eyes clearing just slightly when they land on him.

Peter doesn’t speak, but his shoulders visibly relax and he releases MJ’s hand to reach out for Tony. Kneeling in front of the kid’s chair, Tony takes Peter’s hand in one of his own and brushes the hair that’s sticky with sweat off Peter’s forehead with the other.

“Hey, Underoos,” Tony says softly. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

No response. Tony frowns, glances between Peter’s friends with a look that he hopes says, Explain?

Ned obliges, rubbing his thumb up and down Peter’s knuckle. “They, uh - Peter and May were in a car crash. Peter came out okay, but May is...she’s in surgery right now.”

Jesus Christ.

First his parents, then his uncle, and now this.

Apparently, that’s not all. Ned nods to Peter. “He hasn’t spoken since he called you.”

Some people shut down during highly stressful situations. He’s not surprised that Peter is one of them.

Well. Tony didn’t have any plans today. And anyway, he’d cancel a meeting with every single world leader on the planet for Peter.

An hour passes.

Peter remains silent and out of it. Tony takes MJ’s chair and holds tight to Peter’s fingers, while MJ slides down a seat and rests her hand on Peter’s knee.

People come and go through the waiting room.

The world keeps turning.

Two hours.

Still nothing from Peter or the doctors. The waiting room clock ticks on and on and on, much too loud in the quiet of the waiting room.

The world keep turning.

Five hours pass before a nurse steps into the waiting room and says, “Is there a Peter Parker in here?”

Peter jerks out of his seat, fingers slipping out of Tony and Ned’s grips. The whole rest of their group stands to join him as the nurse walks over to Peter, clipboard in his hand and a sympathetic look on his face. He does a bit of a double take when he sees Tony Stark standing next to a teenage kid in a hospital waiting room, but he recovers quickly.

“Mr. Parker, your aunt made it through surgery with no hiccups.” The nameplate on his shirt pocket says Christopher Baker and he pronounces aunt like ant. Peter’s entire demeanor brightens, but only marginally, as if he’s still afraid to hope. “However, Ms. Parker remains in a coma. The doctors are confident that she will wake up and be able to make a full recovery, but it may be a while before that happens.”

Tony lets out a sigh of relief and hears all three of the kids do the same.

She’s not dead. She’s almost definitely going to be okay.

For the first time in five hours, Peter speaks. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, but, uh - only family, for now.”

Peter’s fingers find Tony’s sleeve. “Can - can Mr. Stark come with me? Please?”

“Um…”

Tony shoots the nurse a look - not the do it because I’m Tony fucking Stark look. More of a come on, man, cut the kid a break look. “I know it’s not protocol because we’re not related by - by blood or adoption or whatever. But May’s family to both of us, alright? And the kid’s fifteen, don’t make him see his comatose aunt alone.”

A moment of hesitation, then a nod.

Tony follows Peter out of the waiting room.

“I feel like it’s my fault.”

Tony looks at him, brow furrowed. Peter doesn’t turn, eyes fixed on his aunt, and doesn’t elaborate either.

May is hooked up to fewer wires and machines than Tony had expected. There’s just an IV line running from her left arm and a heart rate monitor beeping in the corner of the room. Her right leg is in a cast and there’s bandages wrapped around her left wrist, but the hardest thing to look at is her face. Cuts and scrapes and bruises criss-cross along her skin, one of her eyes is completely swollen shut, and her cheeks are missing their usual rosy glow.

All in all, she looks terrible.

God, Tony hates hospitals.

He hates that Peter has to see the only blood-family he has left like this.

Peter has May’s good hand clasped gently in his. His face is carefully blank, almost like he’s deliberately trying not to show any emotion.

Trying not to cry, Tony’s sure.

He almost wishes Peter would cry, at least it’d be less disturbing than this. But on the other hand, Tony’s never exactly thought his comforting skills were up to par.

“How would it be your fault, Pete?” he asks, even though he knows the real answer is that it wouldn’t. There’s literally no way it could be Peter’s fault, but if this is something the kid needs to say, then fine.

“I should’ve -” Peter sniffs, blinking quickly in what’s definitely an attempt to hold back tears. The kid’s practically as emotionally constipated as Tony, it’s terrifying. “I should’ve stopped it. I - I knew the car was coming, I felt it -”

For a second, Tony’s confusion grows, until he remembers. Spider-sense. Right.

“I could’ve warned May, if I’d just - if I’d just been a little faster -”

Yeah, no. Nope, nope, definitely not. He’s not letting Peter beat himself up for a car crash where he wasn’t even fucking driving.

Even if he had been driving, it still wouldn’t be his damn fault. Accidents happen. They’re no one’s fault, or else they wouldn’t be called accidents.

“Kid.” Tony places a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The kid’s head turns and Tony can see his eyes glistening. In the softest voice Tony can possibly muster, he says, “Pete, it’s not your fault. You had, what, a two second warning? You can’t blame yourself for not reacting at the fucking speed of light.”

A tear slips down Peter’s cheek. Tony keeps going.

“And besides, what would’ve happened if you had said something? Your aunt would’ve freaked, jerked the steering wheel, probably crashed into another car. Possibly caused an even worse accident.”

He squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “You did nothing wrong, kiddo. And May’ll tell you the same thing when she wakes up. Because she will wake up. Your aunt’s way too badass to go out this early.”

Peter snorts out something between a laugh and a sob. Tony wants nothing more than to pull the kid into a hug, but he refrains. Waits for Peter to initiate, if he’s going to.

He does. Peter pitches forward in his chair - he would’ve fallen in Tony wasn’t as prepared to catch him as he was - and buries his face in Tony’s shoulder. Muffled by both fabric and his tears, Peter says, “You’re right. May would never let one stupid car be the end of her, anyway.”

Wrapping his arms around Peter, Tony smiles into his hair. “Your aunt’s way too powerful for a damn car, Pete.”

This gets a real laugh.

Which turns into sobbing. Harsh, shaky, broken-hearted sobbing.

So Tony holds him. In the middle of a hospital room, with the beeping of a heart monitor in the background, Tony holds him and lets him cry.

Peter stays at the compound while May is in the hospital.

May wakes up five days later and almost immediately proceeds to tell Peter exactly what Tony told him, while Tony grins at the two of them from the doorway.

When he says I told you so, Peter wordlessly flips him off, making him laugh so hard he spills drops of his coffee all over the tiled floor.

And yeah. Everything he said to the nurse that first day was true.

[thecreativeangel]

aut neca aut necare: V

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: Peter outright refuses to talk to you at the moment. His girlfriend, on the other hand, won’t leave you alone. 

Warnings: Abuse? Idk man everything’s going to shit

Words: 1.7k

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“No Michelle, I can’t have her drive me to the conference!” you argued, mashing the phone into your ear. “‘Cause she’s busy, alright? I’ll have to miss this one.”

“Absolutely not,” MJ clipped back. “You already missed the last two and morale is low. Liz specifically told us morale was important before she left, I know she’s right and so do you. It’s my responsibility to-”

“To keep the team busy and happy,” you repeated for the millionth time, getting up to dump a small mountain of candy wrappers into the trash. “Yeah, yeah I know. Can you keep your voice down please? Please?”

She clicked her tongue. “Finally got yourself in detention?”

“Of course not!” you snapped, plopping back down. “Like I’d ever let myself get detention. I’ve gotta stay after to do some extra credit work for English, since my last essay was ‘bad’. ”

You could almost hear her squint through the phone. “What do you mean by...bad?”

“I don’t know,” you said miserably, staring at the folders of homework that were beginning to pile up on your desk. You rubbed the bridge of your nose before speaking. “I’m usually good at this shit, now I’m not. Fuckin’ go figure, I guess.”

“So that’s a definite no for decathlon?” MJ asked.

You hummed in response, ducking when an iPhone was thrown across the room like a football. A group of guys in the corner guffawed, but one of them had the decency to mouth “sorry”. You rolled your eyes. “I wish I could but...”

“But your mom’s too busy to drive you,” she finished dejectedly, then sighed. “Why’s she been so damn stubborn lately? Is she giving you a hard time again? My parents could talk to her if that would help.”

“No,” you said quickly. “No, no it’s fine. I can go to the next one, she promised.”

MJ was skeptical, you could tell. “Mhmm, why don’t you ride the bus with the team? It only costs a few bucks.”

“I’m busy MJ,” you deflected. Which wasn’t a total lie. The stack of due-tomorrow papers and “small” projects was growing higher with each class. And then there was the ever looming threat posed by some group of arms dealers talking to an alien (a fucking alien! Like Thor!) So yeah, you were busy. “If I get all this done by the end of the month I promise I’ll go to the next meeting.”

Michelle was quiet for a bit. “Okay. But if you leave me like Parker did last year-”

“By all means, you can kill me yourself,” two sets of footsteps entered Ms. Baker’s crowded room. You glanced up out of boredom in time to see a brunette boy whirl around, march back out of the classroom and slam the door behind him. Your heartbeat spiked sharply, blocking out what MJ was saying over the phone. Oh no…

“MJ I’ve got to be very quiet now,” you whispered urgently.

"What? Why? (YN) - "

You hung up.

Kimberly shrugged at Peter’s antics and strode the the empty teacher’s desk as if she hadn’t seen you. You kept your eyes glued to the desk as she rummaged through Ms. Baker’s files. Reaching with shaky hands for a pencil, you slid a random paper in front of you and read it all the way through, not retaining a word. Then you read it again. And again, until the soft clink of her flats on the floor started again. She was leaving.

“Hey.”

You hadn’t realized how strong your grip was on the pencil…

Until it snapped in half.

“Wuh-” you said stupidly. “Heeey. Hello.”

Kimberly cocked her head at the desk next to you. “Can I sit down?”

“Uh…” you dropped the snapped mechanical pencil into your backpack, fully aware of the giant voice crack you just experienced. Like, a “Ned talking to cute girl” level voice crack. And dammit, you cursed at yourself. That pencil was expensive. “S-sure.”

“I was going to study here with Peter, but he pretty much refused to come inside,” your gaze darted away from her, only making her eyebrows rise farther up her forehead. “Seemed kind of mad. You guys have a fight?”

You made the mistake of looking her in the face. “No.”

“Really?” she flicked a decorative cactus pin on her bag. “So why’s he so mad at you?”

You opened your mouth and closed it, repeated this at least three times. Her eyes shone with the same repressed anger as they had when she identified you while on patrol with Spidey. That time she shot at you? Remember that fun night? Anyway, she managed to give you a deadpan stare all while adjusting the straps on her bag. “Reasons,” you answered simply.

“Okay, don’t lie,” she leaned in with a knowing look. “Something happened, and he’s been hanging out with me a ton more than you lately. Did you hurt him?”

You couldn’t look at her without imagining a loaded gun pointed at your skull so how was she talking so casually? “I...don’t have to tell you. I’m not required to tell you. Does that answer the question?”

“Nope,” she said calmly. “It makes you look like an asshole, though.”

“No offense, really, but it’s none of your business-and I don’t know what he’s told you and-”

“A lot,” Kim said. Your eye twitched.

“Well t-then you know what I d-did,” you’d begun to stutter. Badly. “So how m-much was he snitched about?”

She shrugged her shoulders and gave her (Korean? You couldn’t see from your angle) flag pin one final flick. “Well, not that much. You’re sarcastic, or so I’m told. Nice enough, but you got very violent when that one guy bullied Michelle,” she looked up from her bag. “Oh! You’re nosy.”

Your leg bounced up and down as if it were spasming. So your best friend was talking ‘bout you behind your back. Well, part of your brain blamed him, and the other part still replayed the “dead parent” exchange every night before bed. And yes, you didn’t get much sleep these days. “Peter said I’m nosy?”

“No, but you can’t seem to get off my family’s ass,” Kim scoffed. “So I just assumed. What- am I wrong?”

“Y-yes,” you cleared your throat. “Yes. Very wrong. Sorry, but I’m not the one who’s smuggling weapons.”

She glanced around her to make sure no one heard and looked back at you with stony brown eyes. The group of idiots in the corner were still loud enough to mask the conversation, a herd of girls gathered around their friend were giggling. Ms. Baker still wasn’t back.

“I don’t think you understand my circumstances, hon,” she hissed, a tense smile stretching over her features. You saw a single boy in the corner, peering at the two of you from behind a small book but he’d looked away when Kim smiled. “You think Midtown is cheap? Think my dad wants to endanger our family for the freaks who buy his shit?”

You shook you head frantically. Her story sounded all to familiar. “I wouldn’t have known if it weren’t dangerous. The guy you’re selling them to-”

“Pays well,” she clipped. “Doesn’t matter who he is or where he’s from- he pays us generously. In the long run it’s more than we could ever give back.”

“You have no idea what he’ll do with them,” you whispered fiercely. “He disappears after you talk to him and that’s just okay to you? That man-”

She laughed bitterly. “He’s not a man and you know that.”

“He- he’s…” your breathing was becoming laboured, an oncoming panic attack. “And you don’t see anything, I don’t know- wrong with that? What th-”

Kim latched onto your wrist, making the wind leave your lungs. “Did you think it was wrong to leave my mother in that building?” she asked quietly, scraping her nails down your skin. Hot tears brimmed your lower lashes and you clenched your teeth to stop the screech that bubbled in your throat. Thum-thump...thum-thump...

Still you nodded; yes.

“So you’re admitting it was a mistake on your part?” she smiled kindly. Her thumb delicately traced the protruding veins on your wrist (thum-thump!) Once again, you nodded hastily. What else were you to do, scream? And for who? The jackasses who threw someone’s phone? The bitches who were currently showing off their hickeys? The single, lonely, creepy guy and his copy of Animal Farm?

“But you still left her there,” she said sadly. The nail of her thumb pressed dangerously on your central vein, the heartbeat growing weaker and somehow louder in your head. A nauseating, throbbing pulse echoed in your ears. Thum-thump!

She dug her nail into the vein. Thum-thump! Thum-thump! Thum-thump!

“I wish it was different,” Kim murmured. You were startled by her suddenly glassy orbs. “If you’d saved her, maybe dad would’ve stopped selling those things. He used to only sell guns, y’know? But that was never enough money...”

Thum-thump! Thum-thu--

She threw your aching arm away. “Whoops- forgot about that.”

You cradled the wrist close to your chest, watching her with feral eyes and ragged breathing. Kim had the gall to pat your other arm sympathetically, ignoring the way your body flinched. “You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” she asked, blinking innocently.

“What if I d-do?”

You’d rather drown in the Hudson than hear her answer that.

Thankfully, she never does. Kimberly’s full lips curled up in a half smile, half snarl. You don’t get an reply, though you don’t really need one. Truth was, if this “buyer” was as powerful as he seemed, there was no limit to what he could do. Kim knew this all too well. She stood up, steadied her bag on one shoulder and practically bounced away.

Her flats clicked merrily with each step.

AN: Holy fucking shit it’s been 5 months god damn shit fuck fuck sorry?

Tags: @4-a-m, @miss-glitch, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @lubrielx, @kaitlynthehuman, @b-lyn-k, @hotsocke, @therealwatermelon, @shipping-the-unsinkable-ship, @vivideley, @rosieredcheeks, @everythingthatisrandom, @mcheung0314, @spiderdudeparker, @lou-la-lou

[missnighttigress]

The Masquerade: Chapter One

Characters: Tony Stark, Fem!Tony Stark, Toni Stark, Loki, Loki Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Pairing: Toni Stark x Loki (eventually)

Word Count: 2,527

Summary: After the New York incident, Natasha "Toni" Stark threw herself back into the worlds of science and business. She expected everything to go fine until the next attack. She didn't realize fate had something else in store: a visit from an old acquaintance who hurled her out of her penthouse window. She had expected the worst to happen, and was in for quite a shock. Maybe this was the greatest show of them all...

Warnings: mild angst, mild language, more warnings in the possible future

A/N: I started writing this way back in 2012. The original wasn’t as well-written as this, which is an updated version. This is the first chapter in this particular series. I’ve actually been kind of playing with the idea of revamping this so that it includes some turmoil in a love triangle between Toni and Loki and then Toni and Steve. Please let me know what you think!

AO3 Link

Natasha rolled in her satin sheets as her body twisted itself into comfortable sleeping positions. It was the first night she got any real sleep since the battle with Loki so many weeks ago, and JARVIS really didn’t want to disturb her. If he didn’t, she’d be late for her appointment.

“Miss Stark?”

His futile attempt was met with a snore as a response. So, he tried again.

“Miss Stark?”

A moan this time. That was better than a snore.

The steel door at the other end of the long modernly-decorated bedroom clanged open, and a tall tan woman stepped through. Her messy hair was a bright red, almost strawberry blonde color, a navy business suit covering her body. In her firm right hand was an Android tablet. Her eyes glanced up at the ceiling before she spoke in a decibel just above a whisper. “I’ll handle this, JARVIS.”

“As you wish, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper’s navy heels made indents on the plush carpet of Toni’s bedroom as she stepped toward the edge of the king-sized bed and gandered downward at the sleeping head of Stark Industries. She knew the inventor was up late inventing anymore, making modifications to the suit and new renovations to the tower Loki destroyed. However, that night was the Iron Stomach fundraiser, one of the biggest fundraisers Toni held. It wasn’t exactly going to host itself. “Wake up, Toni.”

The woman snarled and rolled over, her foot swinging out from underneath the covers and catching the back of Pepper’s knee as she grumbled, “If I didn’t answer the first two times, what the hell makes you think I’m going to answer the third?”

“How many cocktails did you drink last night?”

Her fingers clenched at the edge of the black comforter as she pulled it over her head. “None.”

“Ms. Stark had six, followed by that many shots of tequila,” the AI answered.

Toni hissed at the ceiling. “I’m going to deprogram you and use you as scraps, you rat. I thought we had something special.”

“We do, Miss. I am merely concerned for your safety.”

“Concern a little less.”

Pepper rolled her eyes and managed to claw the comforter from Toni’s fists. Iron Woman groaned and shrunk into a ball as response. “Don’t yell at him. He’s doing what he was programmed by you to do. When you were out drinking, did you remember what today was?”

“It’s ‘Get the hell out of Toni’s room or so help me’ day, right?”

Pepper’s jaw locked. “No. Today is the Iron Stomach gala at the Ritz.”

Toni unraveled her body and slung an arm over her eyes. “I made you CEO. You handle it. I’m taking a day off.”

“Do you know the kind of preparations we’ve already gone through for this? I gave the title of CEO back to you anyway. This is all on you. Besides, it’ll do you some good to get out of the lab for a little bit.”

The arm peeled away as chocolate eyes opened to glare at the assistant. “But science,” she whined, sounding like a little kid. She didn’t care. Going to that damn fundraiser meant having to get all dolled up. She was perfectly fine being a grease monkey.

“Toni, we’ve already canceled a major event once in the last three months. If we do it again, people will begin to talk, especially the shareholders. You need to do some good press, especially now that you and the other Avengers have damaged a good chunk of the city.”

“At least it was only part of the city and not the whole damn thing. Ever see what happens when Superman tries to save the world? He does more damage than good, I tell ya.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged the blanket the rest of the way off the CEO. “You gonna get up?”

“You gonna get out?”

“Not until I see you up and moving.”

Toni hissed once more but unfurled her body, taking her time to stretch before physically rising from the bed onto her feet. “There. Satisfied?”

“Very. Now get changed. We have to go make the final preparations and make sure everything’s in order.”

Toni growled and stomped to her closet. “All right, all right! Get out. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Pepper grinned wide and nodded. “Very well, Toni. By the way?”

“What?”

“No suit. JARVIS is on lockdown so you can’t create another scene before tonight.”

“God dammit, Pepper!”

“See you downstairs, Toni.”

There wasn’t much that could keep a god imprisoned, not even Asgardian cells. Then again, Thor was the dolt who let the God of Mischief out to aid in battle, so it wasn’t so much a question of the cell’s safety as it was Thor’s sense of judgment. It didn’t matter to Loki, though. He was in Midgard now, and he made sure no one could see him.

Loki stepped from an alley and glanced around at the humans and the bizarre look they were giving him. “Peasants,” he spat as he walked into a crowd of men and women in business suits.

“Are you attending the Iron Stomach fundraiser tonight?” his ears heard one of the women say.

“I don’t know. Stark’s ego is going to be overwhelming thanks to the alien incident. It’s a masquerade anyway. What if I danced with a guy, wanted to go home with him, and I found out he had leprosy or something?”

“You’re so shallow, Maggie. You’re 36! It’s time to settle down.”

The god tuned them both out after that. He had gotten his crucial information from the women, and he was done. Instead, he focused on the large building that said “Stark” on it and grinned wickedly. “Looks like I’m invited to a ball. See you there, Woman of Iron.”

“No! These aren’t the flowers I ordered! I ordered red and gold tiger lilies with dyed roses. What the hell…the centerpieces are all wrong. Come on, people! You’ve had two days and several hours today to prepare this, and it isn’t done? Seriously?”

Toni immediately jumped in and started getting her hands dirty by rearranging the centerpieces when Pepper trotted over. “This is exactly why you should’ve been here instead of the lab the last few days. Everything would be exactly the way you want it.”

“Please tell me you’re on top of fixing this disaster.” Toni leaned toward Pepper’s frame and whined like a petulant child. “You always come through for me.”

“Which is why I did so this time, Toni,” the redhead chuckled, handing her boss a piece of paper. “I have everything arriving within the hour and everything will be exactly like you want it to be. Who’s the best?”

“You are,” the genius grinned. Chocolate eyes wandered around until they rested on a petite blonde girl in a business suit rushing toward them – no doubt, the concierge. “Need something, Tinkerbell?”

She blushed softly and panted. “M-Miss Stark? The florist has arrived, and the catering crew is around back.”

Iron Woman patted the girl on the shoulder. “Thank you, Tink. I appreciate it. Keep doing your job.” When she bounced away, Toni whistled for the decorating crew to gather. “All right, boys. I need you to go lift those flowers and come back in here and rearrange all of this. I promise, you will be supplied with pizza and booze for your efforts. I’ll go grab it right now. Thank you!”

The crew moaned and grumbled, which wasn’t shocking. Toni would’ve bitched herself if she wasn’t a billionaire and had to do this all herself. What was shocking was the one icy grin she was receiving from a man in the back. It was enough to catch her off her guard, she had to admit. There was something about him…

Pepper glanced over to her boss and rolled her eyes. “I know that look, and no, you can’t. You have to stay focused, Toni.”

Breaking out of her trance, dark mocha wavy locks shook with her head. “What? What look? What’s breaking my focus? What?”

“You’re staring at one of the workers. No. You can’t have him.”

“Who said I wanted him?”

“The look!”

“What look?!”

Pepper sighed in exasperation as her hip shot out to the side, her lips turning downward. “The look, Toni. The look you give all your bedded victims-”

“Victims?”

“-And then you screw something up by not calling them and that is how you’ve gained your ‘playgirl’ reputation.”

“Which I’m proud of. As I recall, you were almost victim to ‘the look’ a couple times. Are you bitching about it now?”

Pep blushed and turned on her heel. “You’re cheating.”

“I’m merely using all of the pieces at my disposal. I can’t be blamed for being strategic. I’m heading over to Palmiro’s. Want anything?”

“I’m in the mood for a couple pepperoni rolls, if you don’t mind.”

The brunette grinned. “I see what you did there. All right. I’ll be back!”

It was a beautiful day in Manhattan, really. The sun was shining and it was just the right temperature. It was the perfect day to go for a stroll to the pizza shop. Maybe getting out of the lab wasn’t so bad.

Toni kept her eyes glued to her phone as she walked, running schematics on new suits and getting updates from Pepper about the project. She only glanced up when she finally reached Palmiro’s. “Hey, Poppa P!”

An older gentleman behind the counter grinned and threw his hands in the air. “Ah! Miss-a Stark! Pleasure to ‘ave you! What can we-a do for you?”

Manicured nails took the aviator sunglasses from her eyes and pushed them into her hair. “I need six of your Party Poppas, half with extra cheese, and half with pepperoni. I also need two dozen pepperoni rolls. No one makes ‘em like you.”

Poppa beamed even wider and added the items together on the cash register. “That’s-a why you’re one of my-a favorites! Comin’ right-a up!”

“Thank you,” she sang, her eyes wandering to the walls to the old photographs hanging as proud decorations. Poppa Palmiro was just a boy when his parents had migrated over from the Tuscany province of Italy. His walls were adorned with photos of his old home and his new home, and Toni enjoyed looking at each one. She was thankful his business managed to stay safe after the incident with Loki.

As she continued looking around, she suddenly felt something strong around her. It felt like icy eyes were gazing into her soul. When she turned on her heel, she saw nothing. No one was gazing at her, inside the establishment or out. The only person in the place was a little old woman cutting her pizza with a plastic fork and a knife in a booth in the back. Her chest heaved in a heavy sigh, and she focused on Poppa P behind the counter.

“Greetings, Woman of Iron.”

The way the voice spoke to her made her hair on the back of her neck stand. Growling, she whipped around and saw the very one who threw her from her penthouse at Stark Tower sitting where the old woman had been. There Loki was, donning the familiar black, green, and gold leather and metal garb he was last seen in. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were imprisoned.”

Loki tipped his head and snarled. “I was, thanks to you and the other ‘heroes.’ More like misfits from where I’m sitting. I was stuck in that damned muzzle for weeks, until Thor came along.”

Toni’s arms snaked over her chest as she tossed the god a cocky grin. “So you managed to escape. Big deal. We caught you before and we’ll catch you again. Thor will be here any minute to cart your ass back.”

“Come now, Stark, really. Why allow him to cart me back to a place where it’s evident I will escape from?” He offered a vicious grin as the shoulders of his armor rolled. “I mean you no harm now that I’m free of the Tesseract’s wicked hold.”

“You’ve seen what I can construct, and yet you still think I’m dumb enough to buy that you were controlled by that thing? I’m a businesswoman. I can smell shit from a mile away and right now, you reek of it.”

He chuckled darkly and gestured to the booth opposite him with long fingers. “Join me, won’t you?”

She snorted. “You already tried that. Performance issues, remember?” Nonetheless, she walked over and took a seat. What was the worst that could happen, really? “So why are you here, really? If you don’t want to dominate the world, or at least have the tools to, then why are you here? What do you gain from this?”

“So many questions from the businesswoman. I thought business was like the game of Kriger Sjakkspill.”

“What the hell is that?”

“Loosely translated in Norwegian, it’s Warrior Chess. It’s like your pathetic edition, but with more violence and actual living pawns. Either way, it requires strategy. You should be able to tell my true purpose here if you were decent at your job.”

“I’m not a psychic. Why can’t you just answer my questions?”

He grinned and leaned forward, hands clasped together under his chin. “What fun would that be? You should know I enjoy torture, and seeing my very presence seems to dig right under your skin, exactly like I like it.”

Something about the way he purred out that last part made Toni’s skin crawl, in both a good and bad way. She was about to reply when Poppa P called her to take her order. “Here-a we go, Miss-a Stark!” he declared, holding six enormous rectangle boxes with two bags on top of the stack.

Her eyes left the god not even for two seconds, and when they fixated on him again, it was the little old lady. Her lips curled into a small snarl as she rose. “Knocking” her phone out of her own hand and onto the floor beside the woman, she growled, “If you put so much as a trash can lid out of place, I won’t hesitate to destroy you. Keep it clean, and you and I might just get along. Am I understood?”

The old woman offered Toni a small smile, but Toni could see the forest green eyes of the God of Mischief she was previously sitting in front of. “Crystal clear,” he muttered. “It was nice to see you, deary,” the little old lady said.

Toni growled again before rising completely and grabbing her order. “Thank you, Poppa P. See ya later! And hey, stay safe would you?”

“Bye-a bye, Miss-a Stark! Have a good-a party!”

Outside the pizza shop, Toni called JARVIS at the tower. “Jarv, I want the place on high alert. Don’t tell the team, but I just saw Loki.”

“Miss, are you-”

“I wasn’t hallucinating, and yes, I am sure. I don’t want another security breech like last time. I’ll be home shortly.”

“As you wish, Miss Stark.”

[oohashirei]

I have to get this out of my system or else i’m gonna regret some things that i might do.

if you’ve been following me for about 2 years you’d notice that i only really talked about two guys: M and my photographer tease. Both of those guys, I ultimately had a sad romantic ending with (and I can’t blame either parties). But… there’s this one guy I never talked about because I’ve been repressing my feelings about him, or the lack of the kilig factor thereof.

Let’s call him L. Like any other typical wattpad story written by a pre-pubescent Filipina (not degrading them though, they ARE adorable, just a bit cliché), it all starts during my first year in college, only I didn’t meet him during the first semester, or have any meet cutes with him on the first day. I met him through a mutual friend.

My friend and I were supposed to enroll in the last section for that semester but they didn’t open it for block students so we didn’t have a choice but to enroll at a random open section (where I met many of the friends I still have now). In the section we really wanted, there was our other friend who enrolled late. So now we have friend 1 (classmate) and friend 2 (not my classmate). Friend 1, 2, and I always went home together because of our long commutes and, because Friend 2 was bound to have other friends, she did, and there was this one guy we went home with because of the same route. It was L.

L wasn’t very shy since my Friend 1 was very talkative and accomodating while I was your typical shy girl who still had really bad social anxiety at the time (now it’s just bad). I didn’t even know what our Friend 2 thought of when, one day, she suddenly just said “Bagay kayong dalawa” (idek how to translate it without ruining the thought. It just basically means that we look compatible as a couple).

It all started with those three words (wow i wanna make a story outta this one. seems nice).

And since I was your typical shy protagonist and main love interest, I had a crush on him but I didn’t tell. It wasn’t that of a big deal for me though, it was just a crush afterall.

It was near the end of the semester when my Friend 1 and I successfully made him shift from English to Math (majors) so now we were all classmates for the following year!

And comes second year, the three of us were like peas in a pod. We didn’t know the other classmates yet so we just stuck to each other. Maybe it was at this point when I slowly got serious with my studies that my crush on him was, like, wiped out. But, like I said earlier, typical wattpad story, it was also by this time when he started developing a crush on me.

I forgot if it was the first or the second semester but my Friend 1 and, our newfound, Friend 3 (also our classmate) confronted him. Friend 3 said that she had a feeling so they talked to him about it and he admitted it. He liked me, but wouldn’t pursue because we were classmates. And I understand completely. It’s difficult to have a classmate who is also your partner (bc imagine the fights).

Word spread like crazy. We were just 21 in the class (major subjects) so it wasn’t a surprise. I talked to my other classmates about this and said “Please don’t let this get out. My friend (from that section that I didn’t want to be in during the past sem) likes L and I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” (I applaud 2015 me for being Ms. Congeniality but also I hate 2015 me bc she’s a martyr).

I knew. He knew that I knew. We didn’t talk about it. Worst decision to do, if you ask me.

This was about the time when I started liking M and my classmates asked me, not only once, when the guys weren’t around.

“So, -Name-, sinong pipiliin mo? Si M o si L?” (So, -Name-, who will you choose? M or L?)

I chose M.

Third year rolled around, he got closer to the guys instead of Friends 1 and 3 and I, which was bound to happen. We were all still friends though, don’t worry. We pretended like there wasn’t anything bothering the two of us. We pretended like there wasn’t this whole knowledge that, yes, there’s chemistry, yes we look compatible, yes, at some point, I liked him, and he liked me but at different times.

It was also by this time that he had a girlfriend.

I was shocked at first but it didn’t matter. He can get over crushes. I know I did with him, so it was possible, vice versa.

But he couldn’t, really.

Third year was the year when I got hospitalized for dengue. The doctor said that Wednesday would be my crucial date, when it would be possible to know if I need a transfusion or not if my platelet count dropped lower. It did, only it didn’t reach the minimum for me to need more platelets (I still thank God so much for this chance).

It was about a week or two after when I went back to school and the first thing my friends (1 & 3) told me about wasn’t schoolwork, it was the people who consistently asked. I can still remember my friends’ excited whispers when I got to school, before classes started (i’m actually a bit teary at this because i’ve missed them so much).

“-Name-, alam mo kung sino naka-miss sayo?” (Do you know who missed you?)

“-Name-, alam mo kung sino yung tanong ng tanong tungkol sayo?” (Do you know who keeps on asking about you?)

I didn’t.

They told me.

It was L.

Maybe it was at this point when I realized that his crush on me really dissipated. But it didn’t trun to zero. It turned to something more.

He greeted me when he came (late) to class like he wasn’t looking for me for the past week.

And somehow, he was the only person who has eyes I couldn’t quite read.

We thought it was going to end during this year. Controversy was silenced for the rest of junior year.

We confirmed it during senior year. It was the last chance to do something for us all. I joined council and club as the last legacy to leave.

I remember this was also around the time when my feelings for my photographer tease came to. It was September. I remember awarding our members with their medals. I remember L sitting, playing games on his phone. I remember the cheers of our club members as I gave my photograper tease his award and as we took a picture together. I remember how I felt my cheeks burn, and, if it had not been for the fact that I was dark skinned, I would’ve turned red.

I also remember one of my classmates yelling “Uy, teka, baka may nagseselos!” (Wait, someone might get jealous!).

I remember him shaking his head and telling them that he wasn’t.

That was a rocky time for us. It turned awkward. Maybe because we were slowly having our own separate lovelives instead of together? Maybe it was because it was unbelieveable?

But October rolled in, and we had our team building. By the end of the night, all of the club members were sitting around a table and I, of all people, proposed to play spin the bottle. I coincidentally sat exactly at the opposite seat with L’s close friend (who was also my close friend).

I volunteered to spin the bottle. It landed on me and his close friend. I can never forget that devious smile on his face and I can never forget the moment when I felt all eyes on me.

I was on the hot seat.

And every senior knew what question to ask.

But his close friend asked the wrong question.

“-Name-, who is your crush?”

I told them the truth. It was my photographer tease. They all knew the answer but weren’t satisfied. It wasn’t the question they all wanted.

Friend 3 wanted to ask me again, telling L’s close friend that the question was wrong, but we spun and let the others do it. More confessions were made, many things were said, many hot questions were asked.

By some stroke of bad luck again, it landed on Friend 3 and L. She turned to me, not wanting to ask L a question. Instead, she asked me, loud and clear as the skies that midnight, and all members could hear.

“-Name-, sinong mas pipiliin mo? Si photographer tease o si L?” (Who will you choose? Photographer tease or L?)

I didn’t want to break anyone’s heart. At least not again.

I chose my photographer tease.

They all turned to L who was the only one present.

“Oh, L, sinong pipiliin mo? Girlfriend mo o si -Name-?” (L who will you choose? Your girlfriend or -name-?)

“Well, kung mag-iisip kang logically, girlfriend ko.” (Well if you will think logically, my girlfriend.)

He stopped. He just… stopped. I wanted him to explain more, that he didn’t really like me like that, I’d accept it but… the way he said it. It was like he had no choice.

Later that night, I played with my other friends, including him, truth or dare. We weren’t planning to hide things so we always chose truth. It was the first time that he admitted that he had a crush on me, face to face.

But it didn’t bother us for the fact that we still had one last semester to go.

And on that semester, we interned in the same school, with the same schedule.

Whenever it was Monday, we’d go to class together. We’ll go from the school to the highway, to the university together. When we didn’t have classes, he’d insist on going grocery shopping with me or to go buy school supplies with me. When we were done, he’d bring me to where I would ride (about a 10 minute walk from the school). This was all despite the fact that we could part ways at the school’s gate and call it a day.

This was something I never told my friends. I knew that if I did, talks would arise again and I don’t want to bother their relationship. To hell if he wanted to make sure I was safe when I got home (we left school at 6 and it was dangerous to walk alone so I understand the sentiment).

But the fact is, it feels like we’ve progressed too far for being just friends.

At times my friends would tell me “mag bbreak din yan” (they will break up) and I just shrug. I don’t like breaking relationships, I cherish them. My students back then would ask me “Ma'am, kayo po ba?” (Are you together?) and when we say no they’d say “Sayang. Bagay pa naman po kayo” (It’s a shame, you are compatible together).

Maybe L would never by my the one that got away. Maybe L would just be the line I intersected with.

At some point I liked him, at some point, he liked me, but never at the same time.

To this day, when we’ve both grown professionally it’s nice to see that it’s not that obvious that there is this past talk about us. But there was this one faltering moment when we were walking down a street and a sound of an engine came from behind us and (I was walking nearer to the center and he was by the gutters) I pushed him to the side but not before he could make us switch places like, at that one moment, why did it have to happen?

Why did we have to happen?