#oh I know [insert minority] has it rough but they should still be polite about it

[cyngharris]

Reading asunder and I know this is a beleaguered point but it really is bonkers to me how much an oppressed class is criticized for not being patient or reasonable while their oppressors take away their only avenues of communication and assembling and have the right to kill and lobotomies them at will

[zhongliologist]

Surprises | Sub! Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x GN!Reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!

Words: 1.4k

A/N: A short one for now (bc im lazy and i just wrote this on my phone skskks) but I just needed to get this out of my system bc all week all i thought about was naked apron zhongli and politics,,, not a good combination

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

*

It was by the end of a long adventure when you decided to return home to Liyue—home to your ex-Archon husband who had been patiently waiting for you. 

The situation has always been like this, and perhaps someday it will change but you decided to cross that bridge when you get there. 

As for now, what's important was the fact that you were back at home, lugging around your heavy backpack as you open the door, yet only to be greeted by something you hadn't expected, not in a million years. 

"Z-Zhongli…? What—"

With eyes wide, your luggage fell to the floor along with your jaw. There in front of the kitchen counter was your beloved husband, still handsome and elegant though his attire has proven otherwise. Only covered by a flimsy plain-looking apron, you could see his whole package without much impediment.

"Oh, it seems you have returned, my love," he replied as if he wasn't naked except for an apron. 

You closed your eyes as you held on to the dining table for support. 

"Right, yes, yes I'm back," you replied, sighing. "But more importantly, could you please explain to me why you're wearing that?" 

Zhongli only raised his brows at you. 

"Oh this? Is it not to your liking, my love? Childe has informed me that this could improve our relationship."

Upon hearing the Snezhnayan troublemaker's name, you sighed again, this time much louder. 

"You really should stop taking advice from him, Zhongli." 

A long hum followed, his hands now on his chin as if thinking deeply—or as deeply as you could in a naked apron. 

"Then I suppose it is not to your liking then," he plainly replied and you groaned. 

It's not like you didn't like it—you really like the view of his buttcheeks for one—but this is just….it's just….

You pursed your lips. You're running out of reasons why this isn't good.

"That's not the point," you told him, walking towards his direction and placing a hand on his chest. "I...just—"

Looking up, you were met with amber orbs, gazing down on you and waiting patiently for you to continue. Yet there was no hope for your reply, you were utterly mesmerized by him at that moment—realizing that you had missed him so much and now he was right there in front of you. 

"YN?" Zhongli called your attention, concerned why you had stalled in the midst of your sentence. 

Biting your lip, you tried to hold off lustful thoughts before you could turn them into actions. But there was no escape. As he wrapped his solid arms around your waist and gently kissed your forehead, you knew you can't stop yourself from ravishing him. It has been too long afterall. 

Gazing into his eyes, you slowly inched yourself closer to him—face flushed as you bumped noses which made the both of you smile at each other. 

"You know what, I won't question the apron anymore." 

With those words, you captured his lips in a soft, gentle kiss as you poured all your love for Zhongli. You missed this, you missed his warmth and the gentle strength of his embrace. He must've felt the same way too, as you felt him grow stiffer underneath the apron. 

Gradually, the nips and bites became deeper, tongues exploring each other again after such a long time. It was quite obvious this wouldn't end with a simple make out session, and while you would rather have a shower first, you were far too horny to care. 

"Zhongli…" you whispered above his lips, exchanging pecks. "I want to take you here…" 

The man could only flush at your suggestion yet he nodded nonetheless. It has been a while since you were inside of him and the mere thought of it made his shaft twitch in anticipation. 

With one last long drawn kiss, you hurriedly went to the bedroom and got all the things you needed, including some lubricant. When you returned, your husband was already turned towards the counter, his ass bare and ready for what's to come. 

You grinned, spreading his asscheeks so you can take a good look of his hole. 

"Have you been playing with yourself while I was away?" You asked, lathering your hands good with lube as well as his hole. 

"I…mmn….y-yes…" Zhongli replied, bent against the counter with his ass on the air. It was such an erotic position, especially while you were teasing him, and it only fueled his arousal. 

You hummed, fingers grazing around the rim. "Tell me what you'd do." 

"Nghh….I would...t-touch myself…! A-aaahn! Y-YN…!" he struggled to reply, his words punctuated by moans while you inserted one digit.

"Oh? Touch yourself where, my love?" You continued, pumping in and out of him, preparing him for something much bigger. 

Zhongli was beginning to feel delirious. Your fingers thrusting inside his hole was already too much, but when you began teasing his hardened nipples, he couldn't help but loose all coherent thought. 

"Eughh….! Nnmm…! Y-YN….n-not so fast...I—!" 

"Not until you answer my question," you replied calmly though that was simply an act. You were just as aroused as him,watching as he arched his back, or when he makes such a debauched face everytime you hit a really good spot. 

"I-I…! Nnghh….rub...my cock...mmn!!" He groaned as you follow his words, hands pumping his now engorged length. 

"Like this?" 

With half-lidded eyes, he moaned in ecstasy as you stimulated both his cock and his hole. He had truly missed this sensation of almost passing out in pleasure. 

"Y-yes...yes!! F-fuck…love...nnghh!!" He whispered as if in a state of trance. "M-my...my hole...too…"

At this point, his words only served to arouse you more—wanting more than ever to fill him up. There was just something erotic with a submissive Zhongli that you jist can't help getting turned on with. 

"You...like it...in here, don't you?" You pushed three digits in roughly, making Zhongli arch his back against the counter as his dick leaked pre-cum. 

"O-oohhh….! Hhnghhh….! Y-YN…! P-please...please….I—" 

Grinning, you suddenly slapped his ass, making him tighten up around your fingers. You knew he was ready for you, and you couldn't take it anymore. He was just to sexy, too arousing, too erotic. You wanted to fuck him so badly right now. 

Without warning, you removed your fingers and began lathering your shaft with his juices alongside with a generous serving of lube. Pressing the tip against his now gaping hole, you were asking him permission one final time. 

"Please….Y-YN…! F-fill me up….!" 

With those words, you thrusted inside of him in an instant; knocking his breath away. Zhongli could feel you so deep inside him, making him so full and stretched. It felt so good he couldn't keep his eyes open. 

"Z-Zhongli…! Mmnhn….! I'll move now…." 

Thrusting sharply inside, he made a loud moan as you continued to pump in and out of him. You were rough but it felt so good and you were sure your husband was in the same boat as well, hearing him mutter your name repeatedly as if under a spell. 

"Y-YN….YN…! S-so big…nnghh….! F-feelsh...so….good...mmmnh…!!" 

"How...about this then…?"

You smirked and began playing with his nipple and his rather lonely cock. It will only be a matter of time before he cums as you felt his cock twitch everytime you hit his prostate. 

"F-fuck….nnmmn!!! Y-YN…! Nnghh!! I'm...I—" 

Pulling his ponytail, you bent over and kissed him on the lips; knowing full well that he was close to cumming. You were teetering at the edge as well, losing rhythm as you kept on thrusting inside his tight hole. 

"H-hey….mmn...let's cum together…" you whispered as you buried your face against his neck, as you buried yourself deep in him as well. 

"Y-YN….!! O-oohh….! I'm….! Aaaaghhh….aaaahhbn….! I-I….c-cumming….!"

In a few sharp thrusts, Zhongli released himself on the wooden counter as your hand continued to pump him—merciless until you followed him right after. 

Taking a few breathes, you slipped out of him as you supported his weight; worried he might fall to the floor. Gazing at each other, the both of you shared one simple kiss before continuing to embrace each other. 

"I...missed you…" you whispered to his ear, basking in the afterglow. 

"Me too….my love…" 

For a while, the two of you stayed like this until you broke the silence. 

"You know, why don't we skip breakfast and continue in the bedroom," you suggested as your husband grinned at you. "I'll let you top this time."

"Very well," he replied, and made a mental note to thank Childe with another pair of gilded chopsticks. 

[bjy-on-ao3]

Omg, i just read your dionysus fic, over indulgence, and holy shit, it was amazing! I really liked how you characterised him, and reader too, i just dont know what to say other than i absolutely loved it! I'd love to see more hades content! Maybe with Ares this time? He is always so smug, and somehow can be both very intimidating while staying super polite.... Im howwible with prompts, but maybe one where reader is a priestess of athena and somehow catches ares's attention?

I hope you don’t mind stuff rough.  I hope this satisfies your want for Ares, Anon!

In the game, Athena and Ares don’t seem to really like each other all that much, so I figured any priest/priestesses or disciples of her would have been warned about him. It also made sense for me that many of those people would double as great warriors/soldiers skilled at defense, but also in battle overall.If you’re looking for something warm and soft, please turn back. I really can’t see Ares in a gentle light, and this fic will contain blood/bloodplay, biting, bruising, and Ares getting a kick of out it all. Dubcon only because Reader agrees to the conditions of Ares being able to take what he wants if they lose. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Tags/Warnings Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Combat, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex

Summary Reader - priestess and champion of Athena and fresh off becoming victor of a tournament held in honor of the gods - has an encounter with the most bloodthirsty god of them all: Impressed, Ares offers them a boon should they best him in combat - though if they lose, Ares may take what he sees fit.

Fic Friday

Shieldmaiden (F! Reader/Ares)

The day had been a long and arduous one, filled to bursting with adrenaline and quick-thinking. Oft enough, your days were composed of training or ceremonies, or helping those who sought aid from the temple to Athena you served. But dawn that morning had heralded the start of a tournament lasting till Helios drove the sun beneath the horizon once more. In a way, those who fell quickly were rewarded with a reprieve from the constant bouts, as even though the humiliation of defeat burdened them.

Even on the heels of victory, by the time the battles had concluded, you were tired and sore, marred with minor bruises and a few nicks and scrapes. It was nothing that a good night’s sleep and some poultices wouldn’t solve, though. ‘All worth the honor of winning such a tournament’ you told yourself. Unlike some combatants, you hadn’t killed an opponent, seeking to shed the least blood possible. Your efficiency had no room for excess. But no amount of hard-won praise and self-satisfaction could change that you were looking forward to curling up and resting until the sun rose on a new day.

Traipsing back to the temple in the glowing purple and red twilight, however, a voice caught your attention. “I must say, your performance today was quite impressive.”

To your credit, you didn’t jump or flinch away, becoming stock still and turning slowly toward the source of the voice. “Who’s there? Whom do I have privilege of impressing?” You asked cautiously, unable to strip all the irritation from your tone. You had patience remaining, though you were loath to chat with someone over your victory when you would much rather be in your bed.

Your eyes landed on a tall figure you somehow hadn’t noticed before - a man - stance regal and straight. Something about the posture gave off a sense of nonchalance as well. Clad in armor of ivory and gold, accented with long shards of black and the eerie glaring face of a beast on the chest plate, he radiated an aura of menace, accompanied by a bloodlust so tangible you could almost taste it on your tongue, hot and bitter. Eyes like smoldering coals plucked from a roaring hearth stared at you intently.. Combined with the simper spread over his lips, you couldn’t suppress the chill that raced up your spine.

Something in your gut twisted uncomfortably, and you resisted the urge to put a few more paces between the two of you. Even if it hadn’t been for the myriad weapons crossed over his back, or the impressive armor, the man would have seemed someone to be cautious around, someone you shouldn’t trust. Everything put together set you on high alert instantly, the instinct of fight or flight rising in your chest like a bird taking wing. Something primal shrieked at you that, for once, flight might be the preferred choice.

“You fight rather viciously for one under my dear sister’s wing,” the man mused, his tone light, but formal.

“I asked before - who are you?” you pressed again, not interested in mincing words. You didn’t like how easily he spoke to you or offhandedly disparaged your goddess.

“Oh, no hesitation to be found. Perhaps Athena neglected to impart all of her wisdom to you after all.” you bristled at the insult, taking a deep breath and trying to relieve some of the tension coursing through you. “I am Ares, and I desired to see the prowess of my sister’s little owl before my own eyes.”

‘Little owl?’ the nickname distracted you at first, thinking to the tiny owls often depicted accompanying your Lady, but you shook your head and dismissed the thought. You hadn’t the time to concern yourself with foolish nicknames. “Lord Ares? Well, I have no desire to see you, my Lord,” you said. With the revelation of his identity, you felt even more uneasy. Ares, god of war and death, who was said to bask in the bloodshed and chaos of man. Athena had been certain her followers knew well of her violent half-brother. “I may not have all of my Lady’s knowledge, but I am wise enough to keep my distance from you and the needless death that follows in your wake.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, wary of each word and wondering if he might take offense from your rejection. From the tales told, the Olympians never took well to being ignored or spurned, but to indulge in the company of a god like Ares was no more appealing a choice. The look on Ares’ face remained pleasant, the corners of his lips set in a smug smile, and he let out a quick puff of laughter that would have been pleasant, had it not come from him.

“What a pity. Although I do not believe that choice is yours to make, little owl,” he began, closing some distance between you. You followed his movements intently, concerned he might draw one of the swords from his back and set upon you with every step closer. “Surely you do not think yourself beyond the bidding of one god solely because you serve another?”

Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously at your sides as you considered his words. Ares was right, of course. Being a priestess of Athena did not grant you any protection from other gods - not unless she interfered directly. And that kind of divine intervention was a rarity. You avoided his question and changed the subject, though you doubted he would be redirected so easily. The God of War was no fool.

“What do you really want? I’ve little time for games, my Lord.”

“I wish to see your technique for myself. Show me how that passion and diligence fares against a foe more than mortal,” he elaborated.

The blood in your veins ran cold upon his admission and your heart thudded so hard you wondered if it was audible from where he stood. Battling a god was firmly on the side of things you wished never to do. “If you think I’m dull enough that I would willingly engage the God of War, then you insult me, my Lord,” you said stiffly, trying to suppress your trepidation from worming into your voice and failing.

“What is it I hear beneath your bold tone? I trust one of my dear sister’s bold little priestesses, one of her champions, even, is not afraid of all things?” Ares taunted smoothly. From the way his self-assured smile twitched upward, barely, you knew he was enjoying your reaction.

“Fear and caution are not the same thing,” you denied fiercely.

“True enough, but it is not caution what gives you pause. If it puts you at ease, little owl, I will not take your life.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you scrutinized him intensely, finding no sign of whether he was lying or being genuine. All you found in those bloody eyes and stony face was cold calculation and an insatiable lust for violence. “Why should I believe you?” you asked, face twisting suspiciously.

“Because, beloved by my sister or not, if I so desired to kill you, I would have done so the instant you denied my invitation and spoke to me so disrespectfully.” He talked of ending you so casually it made you shudder, and you cursed yourself for it immediately.

It seemed you had little choice but to indulge Ares in whatever game he had in mind. “And if I agree - what is the benefit to me?” Ares had promised he wouldn’t kill you, but you saw no other purpose to fight him. You still weren’t sure he wouldn’t just kill you, despite his promise.

“Is serving one of the gods not benefit enough for you? What a greedy little owl my sister has found.” Again, Ares taunted you. You wondered if he was trying to make you angry enough to divest your caution and sabotage your battle prowess.

“That’s not an answer,” you spat back. God or not, you were tiring of whatever he was doing.

Fortunately, Ares cut to the chase. “Very well, best me and you shall have whatever boon of me you wish.”

“And if I lose?”

“Then, I shall take from you what I decide most fitting.:

“But not my life,” you added, still skeptical.

“You have my word,” Ares insisted. “Besides, would it not be such a waste to douse a promising ember when it could kindled and made to burn all around it?” he added in afterthought and once again the implications of his words unsettled you. “Now, I trust we are done with these tedious negotiations, hm?” he prompted.

Steeling yourself and willing away the stiffness and fear bubbling in your chest, you nodded. Ares had decided what the outcome of the discussion would be before he first spoke. There was nothing more to be said - at least not with words. Eyes trained on the intimidating figure of the God of War, you retrieved the shield and blade slung over your shoulders. You brandished them both, falling into the stance you were trained to use.

Across from you - hardly half a dozen feet off - Ares drew a weapon of his own. The sight of the curved blade incited your fear once more. The black blade was a ghastly thing, wickedly sharp and emanating a thick, billowing red haze the color of viscera. It was unmistakably a weapon befitting a god, and it made something deep inside you want to turn tail and run. But you knew running would be fruitless - all it would earn you was a head-sized loss of weight between your shoulders.

 At once, the both of you moved slowly, following a wide circle, two shadowy beasts in the fading dusk searching for weaknesses and flaws. All of your training and wisdom told you to wait, let Ares come to you and make the first move. But you weren’t sure your reactive way of fighting would hold up against someone of his calibre. As Ares had implied, he was no mortal, and you could only imagine the horrible strength and skill behind his blade.

Ares shattered the heavy stillness abruptly, darting forward and making a low arcing swing up toward you. There was no hesitation behind the blow and you had the feeling if you hadn’t stopped it with your blade, his falcata would have carved a clean line into your torso. Ares may have promised not to kill you, but he wasn’t above grievously injuring you. He gave you little time to think on his intentions, however, another strike quickly following when you knocked his sword aside.

You caught that swing as well, on your shield this time, and your arm stung from the force that rang through it. Blow after blow rained down on you, forcing you on the defensive almost constantly, and even then, many near misses made you tense and wide-eyed. Eventually, you found some rhythm to his assault, and Ares even paused, granting you a scant few seconds to breathe and think. Still, you needed to analyze what you learned quickly - your enduring method of fighting wouldn’t suit well against his relentless onslaught. You had fought aggressive attackers in the past, but their strength and ferocity paled compared to Ares.

Eyes flashing to and fro, following the tuck and arc of his weapon, at the same time searching for openings, you readied to strike. You would need to be swift, perfect in your timing, and hold back nothing if you wanted any hope of breaching his flurry of blows. You took your chance when his fuming blade glanced off your shield at just the right angle to slide away, instead of adding more to the numbness in your shield arm. Dipping down, you swept your own blade under his arm and up. The metal scraped past one of his pauldrons and up, and your eyes shot wider when the tip of the blade reached out towards Ares’ face.

A swift kick pushed you back, leaving you winded, and you looked back up quickly. Ares was standing in place, a small distance away, but close enough to observe small details. His blade upheld in one hand, smoking menacingly, he lifted his free hand to his cheek, brushing away the slick of blood oozing from a diagonal cut across his cheek.Your heart fell at the sight of how little damage you had done. After all that time, you had given him what was barely more than what a mortal mine might suffer from a shaving accident. It was an ill omen when you were so used to your blade striking true and dispatching opponents in only a few strokes.

“Oh, what a splendid surprise.” Your blood may as well have turned to ice. Not at Ares’ words, but his tone.

Beneath the refined and formal speech, something almost excited could be heard. You had the sudden dreadful feeling that indulging the God of War’s little game had been a terrible mistake - even if  there was no other choice. Excitement was a chilling thing to hear from a being who adored violence and death. You had expected anger, perhaps, or bitterness that a mortal had drawn blood against him. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a shock he liked to bleed as much as he liked to bleed others.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, little owl. Such skill seems wasted protecting others, do you not think so?” Ares asked, the hint of excitement vanished.

An indignation bubbled up beneath your dread, understanding Ares had meant your talents better suited to bloody slaughter and resenting that notion. You bristled, snapping back at him. “If I agreed, I would have served from the start, wouldn’t I?”

Ares ignored your response, as if he hadn’t heard. “I have seen more than enough, little owl. Our duel shall come to an end now,” he declared confidently. Again resentment and terror warred with one another within you.

When Ares bolted forward again, you barely thrust out your sword in time and turned his strike aside. The eerie cloud emanating from the blade seemed to have increased, tendrils of it whipping about, framing Ares ominously and obscuring your vision here and there.  He didn’t stop at a single blow, striking out again and again as before, but with much more strength behind the attacks. The thought that your weapon and shield or arms might shatter from the force if things kept up flitted through your mind, distracting you for the barest moment.

Ares’ blade flashed forward, and your shield was thrust away, spinning through the air before crashing down and clattering to the ground. In a lightning quick motion, before you could bring your blade in to force his falcata away, the edge was leveled to your throat. You fell deathly still, the icy blade faintly touching your skin. One false move or a twitch of Ares’ wrist and all would be done.

The war god moved closer, grabbing your sword hand cruelly and twisting your blade from your fist. The hand that had disarmed you snapped to your head, grabbing a fistful of hair at the root and making you hiss. He drew your head back and the painful pinch of his blade scarcely cutting your skin made your pulse quicken. A warm trickle crept down your skin. Held between Ares’ hand and his blade, you dared not even breathe too deeply, so close were you to both.

Burning crimson watched you keenly, blazing with triumph and thet still unquenchable lust for blood. The blood you seeping from the shallow cut on your throat encouraged that bloodlust to greater heights rather than sate it. The thought made the space between you and the god feel heavy, airless.

“You fought magnificently, little owl. A far greater challenge even than I had foreseen,” Ares praised, not bothering to draw his weapon back. The tension hanging in the air, in fact, seemed thoroughly amusing to him, alluring even. You gathered all the resolve you possessed, fighting to glare defiantly at him. There was no room to show weakness. “How lovely that look suits you. Fearful, yet masked in defiance, even in the very face of death,” he drawled. You wondered if the god enjoyed his own voice as much as he enjoyed bloodshedl. “Do you believe me a liar?” Ares asked coolly after a moment of unsettling silence.

“I-” you opened your mouth intending to disagree, to ensure him you believed him - even if you didn’t trust him in the slightest -, but something stopped you. “Yes.” As the word escaped, you cursed yourself.

To your surprise, Ares’ proud smile grew. “Such an unwise thing to say,” he mused, “Are you trying to provoke me, now, little owl?” he asked nonchalantly, applying the scantest amount more pressure to his haze billowing blade. You winced, but quickly corrected your expression until your focus was on Ares once more. “No matter, our duel is over. Now comes time to take what I deem ample compensation for my victory.” At last, Ares drew back and took his falcata with him, and you could breathe again.

The start of a cold sweat broke out on your skin, and you felt clammy, except for the hot, sticky trickle drying on your neck. You swallowed thickly, willing your tongue to obey you, and spoke again after a moment of recovery. “So, what do you want? Out with it.” you pressed, perhaps too demandingly for one whom had been in your previous position. Yet with the blade no longer threatening to carve your throat open, you couldn’t help the annoyance and unease that crept into you.

“Tread carefully, little owl. I spared you before,” Ares reminded you casually, though the sharp warning edge suffused his words. He would take your insolence only so far. “Continue to disrespect me and I shall take your words as invitation to grant you a most painful end.” He paused, slipping his dark blade back where it belonged, before turning to you. “As the spoils of my victory, this ought to suffice.”

In an instant, so quick you had no time to wonder what had come over him, Ares was upon you again. His hand, having previously disengaged when he took his weapon away, returned, entangling itself in your hair again and forcing you to remain still. Before you knew it, Ares stepped uncomfortably close, bowing his head and slashing his lips across yours in a kiss that was neither delicate nor considerate. It was a kiss fueled by strength, full of teeth and heat that left you in a stupor.

Ares didn’t bother with the tedious task of coaxing your lips open with his tongue, choosing to bite down viciously, and blood oozed out to meet him. It slicked his teeth and tongue and your mouth fell open in a gasp of pain, and Ares thrust his tongue into your mouth.  It swept along your teeth for a moment, before wrapping around your own and fighting it into submission. A heady metallic taste washed over you as you futilely tried to win the war of flesh. Blood. Your blood. Mixed with the coppery flavor was something more subtle, spicy and earthy at once.

When Ares relented and pulled away, you strove for breath, the taste of him and your blood lingering in your mouth. But he had only begun, giving you little time to recover. You had long enough to question why you had kissed him back - or had you been trying to fight him off? - before he jerked your head back and inclined his faced further. His lips, hot and the barest bit sticky, met the curve of your throat. He swept down your skin, leaving angry bite marks and blotches in his wake, until he was nestled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unprotected by armor and bared by your tunic.

He bit down again. Harder than before, and his teeth sank into you, another rush of blood welling up.You couldn’t control the pained cry that burst from your lips. You were used to injuries from training or battle, yet hardly in such sensitive places, and almost never from someone’s teeth. It burned when Ares lapped greedily at the wound and you hissed. His free hand had curled behind you at some time you hadn’t noticed, pressing you forward, the unyielding planes of his chest plate and pauldrons digging into you uncomfortable.

A new sensation was blossoming beneath the pain, one that should have been utterly foreign and unthinkable, given the brutality Ares was treating you with. Maybe it was the burning, hungry expression in Ares' eyes as he looked up from your skin, lips tinged red. Or maybe it was the crushing embrace he held you trapped in. Or maybe the way he held you utterly compliant and vulnerable in his grasp. Or maybe it was all of those things combined that made heat fill you from your core and pool between your legs. A dangerous, confused lust was rising - one it would have been wiser to reject.

“Such splendid sounds, little owl,” Ares said, his voice lower, a wild delight tinging it. “I desire to hear more. Do not disappoint me.”

With a rough push, your feet left the ground, and you tumbled backward away from Ares’ grip, too startled and dazed from the confounding feeling brewing in your belly and the painful throbbing in your lip and shoulder to catch yourself in time. You grimaced when you met the ground, making to prop yourself up. But Ares followed you, shoving you down completely and pinning you there. Again, his armor prodded uncomfortably at you. Past the pleated leather folds attached to the armor torso, something still distinctly hard, but much warmer prodded at you as well.

When large hands groped at your tunic -  somehow both callous and perfect - some degree of sense insisted you stop him. But others argued with it. They insisted there was no point, this was the spoils Ares chose to claim. You wouldn’t be able to stop him if you tried. One devilish voice even craved more. Your internal debate crashed to a halt when Ares jerked your tunic down, the faint sound of fabric ripping lost to you. His lips fell upon your skin again where the fabric fell away, biting and sucking like he was trying to devour you. Many of them stung, not all as harsh as the bite to your shoulder, but several more drawing blood or leaving the areas soon to bruise, painting your skin in garish colors.

More pained sounds left your lips, gasps and whimpers and groans, though mixing more steadily into them were noises that belied some twisted pleasure. A hiss that became a moan. A gasp that turned into something breathy and thick. Something was stirring more and more hotly within you, transforming pain into a muted pleasure and adding fuel to the embers smoldering between your legs and in your belly.

Ares’ hands were as greedy as his lips, groping and kneading unmarred skin, roughly grabbing at your chest, pinching your nipples and making you cry out pitifully. Before long, he had covered your torso, shoulders, and neck in darkening bruises and blood, teeth marks and scrapes. Pulling away until he was looming over you like an ominous shadow, you could still make out the satisfied look languidly spread across his lips. His eyes seemed even more fiery, near crazed, as if he were high on your blood and pain.

“Such a careful, focused beast in the heat of battle. Now look at you, little owl, stained and trembling,” he purred, and his tongue trailed over his lips, cleaning the crimson staining them. “How beautiful a sight. The color suits you well.” He grabbed at your tunic some more, gathering the bottom around your waist, meeting the neckline he had pushed down. “As fragile and easy to see through as glass. Ought I shatter you like it, then?” Ares asked, greedily taking in the even larger expanse of flesh revealed to him. You wondered if he meant to litter the rest of you in similar marks.

Your lips parted, and you didn’t speak for a second, waiting for the mental gears to  turn. Your only choice was the illusion of it, so you may as well as pretend your answer meant something. “Break me as you please, Lord Ares,” you told him, surprised to hear how your voice sounded. Strain and breathy, and the realization strengthened the heat and wetness at your center you couldn’t deny, likely plain to Ares’ eyes with your tunic no longer guarding it.

“How bold a choice of words, little owl.” Ares sounded pleased, possibly having expected you to retort defiantly, or have no words at all. Yet you had indulged his words instead. He trailed a thick finger gingerly over your throat, tracing over your racing pulse. “It would thrill me so to watch the life bleed from you.” You believed him completely. There was no denying in different circumstances Ares would revel in your death. “Alas, I shall have to make do sheathing a different blade within your supple flesh.”

A hint of excited impatience shone through as Ares sat back on his knees, leaving you to lie waiting in the dirt for what he would do next. With an iron grip, he grabbed your thighs, lifting them both off the ground and splaying them over his pauldrons, on either side of the crossed blades on his back. The cold touch of his armor on your overheated, abused skin made you shudder, and you watched as he lifted the lappets of the armor.  

Your eyes lingered on what had thrust against you from behind layers of leather before, and you swallowed nervously. Ares was endowed impressively and in the embrace of a gentle lover that might promise a minor discomfort, but pleasure overall. Ares had shown no intention to treat you gently though - the ache and throb from the aftermath of his attention reinforced that - and you were under no illusion he was going to change that.

The new hesitation must have shown in your expression, a dangerous thrill creeping onto Ares’ own face as he brought the head of his cock to your folds. You thanked the stars that his brutal attentions had somehow elicited a perverse hunger from you, soaking your core. Though you imagined he would have fucked you raw whether or not you were wet. In fact, he might have enjoyed it more that way. Fortunately, his dick slipped slickly between your lips, gathering some of your wetness and pushing against your slit.

Ares didn’t take his time entering you, nor savor the moment, bucking his hips forward and splitting your cunt wide. You arched your back stiffly and hissed, both at the awful burn from the way his cock stretched you and the surprising satisfaction from the overwhelming fullness. You drew deep breaths, trying to adjust to the thick intrusion, fighting the pathetic whines that threatened to spill out.

Ares didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, rutting harshly against you, calloused hands digging roughly into your thighs. He leaned forward, bending you nearly in half, far enough a tendril of his silvery white hair brushed against your stomach, making your skin jump. The stretch ached to be sure - it would have even if Ares had been more thoughtful - but caught up in whatever perverse mood electrified the moment, there was pleasure bleeding into the pain.

Pleasure from the way he filled you so completely, creating a delicious friction that made your gut heat and tense. Pleasure from the rough slant of his hips against yours and his balls slapping your ass. Pleasure from the renewed vigor and sting of his lips and teeth attacking your neglected skin once more. It was agonizing and mindnumbing and enjoyable in a way you couldn’t have had any hope of explaining, at least not in a right sense of mind.

Each hard rock of his hips and searing puff of breath against your skin wore away at what little pride you retained, if you could claim to have any scrap left, looking such a mess. You might regret the memory later, but in the heat of the moment, there was no time for regrets or second thoughts. There was only room to try and enjoy what Ares had claimed as his reward.

As your dignity shattered and disintegrated like dust, the heat of your body and between your thighs grew, until you cried out into the air, the pleasure finally rising high enough to meet the pain and break loose from your throat between whines and winces. One loud cry that twisted and broke from another especially vicious bite must have gotten to Ares, eliciting an answering sound that was deep and primal.

Continuing to pound into your cunt, Ares looked up from his savagery of your skin, eyes glittering with amsement and lust of multiple kinds. His hot breath rolled over your bruised chest and his silky words rumbled over you. “You ought to thank me for my mercy,” he growled, and amidst the pain and pleasure you laughed to yourself. Mercy for a war god amounted simply to not killing you it seemed, even if the alternative was marking your body viciously and claiming it for himself. “Go on, then, little owl,” he compelled you, puncutating his words with a harder buck of his hips that left made you shout.

You opened your mouth, at first only pants and huffs and whimpers broke away. You gathered the words on your tongue he demanded of you. “Th-thank...aah...thank you, Lord Ares!” you cried out, surprisingly yourself. “Thank you f-for sparing me.”

He seemed satisfied with you pitiful answer, shaky and broken as it was, though he remained close to your skin. His pace grew stronger, faster, and he drew his tongue over some of the more bloody marks he’d left behind, coating his tongue again in your essence. His eyes swept hotly over his handiwork, bordering on frenzied. “Is it not such a wondrous feeling, to break bleed so, little owl?”

The smooth, husky tone of his voice, though it spoke such sick words - words you would have rejected in another setting - drove your own fervor higher, the molten spring of tension in your abdomen coming to the edge of its breaking point. You responded without hesitation, mind bent only on the promised releasen. “Yes, yes, my Lord!”

No more words fell between the two of you then, only the primal symphony of moans, grunts, groans, and gasps, enough to be heard by any soul unfortunate enough to be passing nearby. You hadn’t thought Ares’ thrusts could become any crueler, but as he chased and neared his own release, they did, until each thrust stung, hurting almost more than they pleased. His hands still clenched around your thighs and you could only imagine the intensity of the bruises that would be left behind - perhaps even worse than the many peppering your neck and chest and torso.

Despite the pain, your cunt squeezed around him, fluttering erratically as you danced on that edge so, so close. Until at last, it burst. But not before Ares finished with a sound so dark and heavy and alluring it could be called inhuman. Your walls embraced him even tighter as his cum filled you to overflowing, hot and wet, and you screamed and cried into the darkness of evening that had taken over.

When all was still at last, youtruly began to feel the extent of the damage Ares had done. He didn’t remain atop you much longer, not seeming to need to catch his breath, and when he pulled out of you, you shuddered, feeling sore and empty. Already tired before Ares had sought you out, and even more so after your combat, you were completely and utterly exhausted. Lying there, each pound of your heart making the bites and bruises pound along with it, you wondered if passing out in the dirt was a viable option.

Ares didn’t concern himself with your thoughts, however, or whatever it was you intended to do now that he was finished with you - for now at least. He just looked down at you, tucking himself back beneath the lappets of his armor and looking no worse for the wear. “Farewell, little owl. Do take care. And consider what I have said,” he began. “Your talents ought be used for something far more satisfying.”

You didn’t answer, letting your eyelids slide closed for a minute. When you opened them again, you were alone and the air was still and silent. You begrudgingly sat up, preparing to tackle the ordeal of standing and making the rest of your way home and to your bed. You wondered how you were going to explain your state to your fellows the following day.

[rora-s]

The Derivative  Chapter 9: Wormholes

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 8 

“Apparently there’s large performance differentials between same caliber bullets from different manufacturers” Amita told Charlie walking over to him with a piece of paper with the information. 

“Based on what?” Uncle C questioned looking the paper over. 

“Lead composition, gunpowder packing” Amita shrugged, sitting back down in her seat. 

“Just what I need more variables” Charlie muttered. 

“I could help you run through the equations if you want” I offered leaning forward on the couch. 

“No you’re not helping” Charlie objected turning back to his chalkboard “if Don even found out you were in here we’d both be in trouble” 

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book. Just then there was a knock at the door to the solarium and Larry meandered in. “oh, some assistance in my brazen attack on the Lorenz invariance?” 

“No, drag coefficient models” Charlie informed. 

“Drag co- drag on what?” Larry questioned. Walking from Charlie to Amita.

“Bullets” the woman answered. 

“Bullets as in ballistic trajectories defined by the Einstein Equivalence Principle, related to the Lorenz frame?” Larry questioned over her shoulder pointedly. 

“As in, bullets that kill people” Amita replied. 

“Oh” Larry muttered with slight disgust in his voice as he turned to join me sitting on the couch. 

“There seems to be some disagreements over the sniper’s expertise” Amita explained looking to Charlie. 

“Well, I’d say the public’s decided on the question.” Larry explained “I have an aunt who lives two blocks from the first shooting. She’s afraid to go out on her front lawn now.” he gestured out the window. 

“Why don’t you tell your aunt that statistically she has a better chance of being mauled by a bear” Charlie explained exasperatedly. 

“Actually, statistics would favor the bear being mauled by my aunt but…” Larry joked and we all shared a small laugh. “This fear, this extends beyond the reach of statistics Charles.” Larry explained sinking into the couch. “No this is about arbitrary inescapable death. No, times like these, you just wind up speculating on paths not taken, jobs left undone.” 

“Larry I- I’m trying to get those equations done for you as soon as I can,” Charlie defended. 

“No, no, no.” Larry objected sitting up “at that moment, I was actually thinking of a far more prosaic legacy. Someone to carry on the Fleinhardt standard” 

We all looked at the physicist in surprise. “I didn’t know you wanted kids, Larry” Charlie voiced. 

“Well children are wormholes” Larry declared. 

“Wormholes?” Amita questioned. 

“As the only minor in the room can I protest that classification?” I asked the man who sat next to me fiddling with a small bowl “or at least get an explanation?” 

“Yeah. They’re portals into the unreachable future and unattainable past.” he somewhat clarified “No, as things stand now they exist only in the theoretical realm so..” 

“Well, I can see where you might have some trouble selling a woman on the idea of carrying you wormhole” Amita stated and we all chuckled again. 

____________

There’s isn’t anything quite as annoying as sitting at the kitchen table trying to get a look at the work your Uncle is doing for the FBI that you know you can help with but aren’t allowed to. This is where I was as I sat at the dining table Charlie working and Larry getting himself another cup of coffee. 

“You know,” the physicist spoke up from the kitchen, “I have had almost no attendance at my morning classes. It’s like everyone’s afraid to set foot outside” 

“Not everybody” Charlie objected as Larry came in and sat a cup of water down for the mathematician. 

“Just the general populous” I commented. 

“Yeah. In times like these, an empty house is not a home” Larry said taking a seat at the table. “Evaluating my immediate prospects for a conventional nuclear family, I’ve just now begun to consider adoption.” 

“How long have you been considering it?” Charlie inquired. 

“Three days,” Larry offered. 

“Give it a few more days.” Charlie advised. 

“Yeah” Larry agreed “but consider Don. He had no prior notion or plan for raising a young adult and yet here he is doing just fine.” 

“That would convey the notion that my father is doing more than just monitoring me and providing me sustenance” I muttered. 

“I suppose there is something to be said about a mentoring learning curve” Larry murmured. Then looked at Charlie’s work “so what? You found a pattern yet?” 

“More like a pattern of patternlessness.” Charlie informed. 

“Is patternlessness even a word?” I asked. 

“Well it is now” Charlie stated. 

“Hey, there’s an interesting metaphysical notion.” Larry voiced. 

“What, whether patternlessness is a word?” I asked. 

“No the interesting part it plays in this case.” Larry explained “perhaps a human element remains to be inserted” 

Charlie groaned in annoyance. “You sound like this, uh, Agent Edgerton guy. He’s a sniper instructor that Don brought in from Quantico he thinks I should be out shooting rifles.” 

“Well, why aren’t you?” Larry inquired. 

“That would be cool” I agreed. 

“It’s a poor allocation of my time” Charlie objected “in the time it takes to shoot X number of rifles, I can access ten or twenty or a hundred times that amount of data” 

“No, no, no, no. there’s data and there’s hands-on experience” Larry pointed out. “These are two different beasts. That’s why you’ve got blackboards and laboratories.” 

“Well you study the universe, and you’ve never been to outer space.” Charlie countered. 

“Yeah, but if I had the opportunity, do you think for a moment I’d hesitate?” Larry said. 

Charlie sighed. “I think it’d be cool to shoot a rifle,” I voiced. 

Charlie gave me a look “you know It’s those kinds of statements that make Don worried about you” 

___________

“Why’d I have to come along?” I muttered. 

“Because if you hung around Larry and Charlie any longer you’d end up helping them on this crazy case and we both know it” Alan stated as we got on the elevator in the FBI office. 

“So your solution is to bring me to the heart of where the case is being handled.” I pointed out. 

“Point made but this is the side of it you definitely can’t help on” Alan commented. I nodded in agreement getting the point. 

The elevator opened and Don greeted us. “Hey guys” he smiled. 

“Hey Donnie” Alan smiled as we headed out of the elevator and into the FBI office. I’d never been here before and it was a cool place. People were all over the place in cubicles. There were meeting rooms with glass walls and doors and on one side a tall stack of file boxes. 

“Thanks for bringing lunch all the way down here.” Don told us as he led us through the office “Come on, this way.” 

“Oh well, you know, the drive was a pleasure.” Gramps explained. “Traffic on the 10 has never been thinner since, uh, well, since it’s been the 10” 

“Yeah, it’s like all LA’s in lockdown, huh? Little eerie” Don commented. “Right in here” we were ushered into a little break room. Alan sat the bag of food on the table and started setting things out. “You guys want a water?” Don asked, leaning by a mini fridge. 

“Yes please” Alan said politely. 

“Sure” I shrugged watching the people through the glass. 

Don set out three waters before taking his seat at the table. Alan got up to grab some napkins. “Hey kid, why don’t you sit down?” Don suggested. 

“Yeah” I agreed, coming over and sitting across from him where Alan had put my sandwich. “Everyone’s really busy out there huh?” 

“Yeah sniper’s a big case and it’s not the only one we have open right now so a lot going on” Don explained as Alan came back over. 

“So, how, uh, how are you and Charlie managing this case?” the elderly man asked. 

“Well, I mean, he’s frustrated; I’m frustrated.” Don shook his head raising his sandwich up to his face “I mean, we’re having a rough time on this” 

“Is that why he’s been running out of the house late at night?” Alan inquired as we ate. 

Don nodded “we got an agent on him all the time” he assured. 

“I mean, I know he’s been helping you out and that he comes down to your office a lot, and I- I think that’s great. But, but now you got him going out on crime scenes.” Alan explained “I mean, there's this guy shooting people out there.”

Don made a face and I could see the argument coming. I quickly spoke up to leave the room “uh where’s the bathroom here?” 

Don look to me “uh out down the hall to the left and then take a right” he gestured. 

“Thanks” I replied, getting up and shuffling out of the room. Glancing back I could see the conversation continuing in my absence. Don and Alan had a strong relationship this I could tell from the beginning. However, Alan was always worried about his sons especially on the FBI side of things. It was a worry I never fully understood but then again this was my first time with male role models so maybe it was just a guy thing to constantly worry about what you can’t control. 

___________________

3rd POV. 

Once Abby had left the room Don turned back to his father “Dad. you really think I would put Charlie in danger?” 

“No,” Alan objected “you know what I really think?” 

“What?” 

“I think you have to understand that Charlie can never say no to you,” Alan explained. Don let out an exasperated breath putting down his sandwich “I mean, I mean. All you have to do is to ask him something and he’s there for you.” 

“Yeah, and I’m there for him.” Don insisted. 

Alan sighed “look, he’s not a cop. Now, come on, I mean, he’s better off with chalk in his hand than a gun.” 

“You know, you got to stop this; he is a grown man, and he’s capable of-” 

“Who still seeks the approval of his older brother” Alan cut Don off. “Whether his older brother likes it or not. And- and more than that Abby, Abby is just like him I had to bring her out here with me just to keep her from trying to help anymore on this sniper math of his.” 

“Abby’s fine alright” Don objected “she just needs to learn to leave that stuff alone” 

“Yeah, and who’s job is it to teach her?” Alan pointed out. 

Don sighed and was about to reply when his phone went off he pulled it out to answer, muttering an excuse me. Meanwhile Abby returned hesitantly but determined the argument was over as she saw her father on the phone. 

“Gotta go” the agent declared gathering his food and getting to his feet “another shooting” 

“Oh my god” Alan muttered. 

“Yeah, I promise I won’t call Charlie till we roll the tanks out.” Don stated stopping in the doorway. “And I want you two to stay here until I call you, okay?” Alan nodded in understanding “all right, thanks for the sandwich” 

With that Don was heading off into the bullpen. “I barely got to say two words to him” Abby muttered, sitting down with her food. 

“Well, I suppose when duty calls” Alan sighed, turning and watching his granddaughter eat. 

__________________

Abby POV.

I left off a loud sigh as Larry and my grandfather began their chess game. “Come on Abby, you like chess,” Alan said. 

“I like playing chess, not watching it,” I replied, turning the page of my book. 

“Well how about you play winner” Gramps suggested and I shrugged in reply. “And would you mind sitting like a normal person we are in public” I raised my hands in an annoyed gesture as I sat sideways in my chair, my legs dangling over the arms rest of one side. Alan gave me a stern look and I sighed shifting in my seat. “Thank you”

“Yeah, yeah” I sighed slouching in my chair and turning another page of my book. 

“Oh. The Ruy Lopez opening” Alan commented on Larry’s move. “I see I’m dealing with a classicist here.” 

“Look, I warned you I was a little rusty” Larry pointed out with a slight laugh to his voice. “My game is also a little undeveloped.” 

“You know I had to stop playing with Charlie when he was eight years old.” Alan explained. 

“Yeah, more precociousness in the biography of professor Charles Eppes.” Larry sighed ��yeah you know, among mathematicians, isn’t that just such a cliche, the playing chess?” 

“I didn’t mind losing” Alan explained leaning forward in his seat “it was that bored expression on his face, like he was playing out of courtesy. That’s what got to me” 

“That’s why I keep my poker face up when I challenge you” I muttered, not looking up from my book. “It’s just common courtesy” 

“Oh is that so?” Alan asked and I could hear the amusement in his tone as I smirked. “Perhaps you should remember who your ride home is then” we both chuckled lightly amused. 

“Oh yeah? Well, try Scrabble” Larry suggested ignoring my and my grandfather’s banter. “He’s a horrible speller” 

“Really?” Alan inquired. 

“Oh, he’s horrible,” Larry insisted. 

“I didn’t know that” Gramps sighed leaning back in his chair again. “You know quite a bit about my son.” 

“I don’t know” Larry murmured “I know he’s been a delight. You know, observing him all these years. You know, a star pupil’s ascension to such extraordinary heights I mean, yeah, that’s perhaps the most rewarding aspect of being a teacher.” 

“Come one, we both know you’ve been a lot more than just a teacher to Charlie” Alan pointed out. 

I glanced up to see a small smile grace Larry’s features “well, thank you for saying that.” 

I caught sight of the board and scoffed turning back to my book as Alan spoke again moving one of his bishop “oh, by the way, uh you’re now in check” 

“Oh you distracted me” Larry exclaimed, sitting up as Alan chuckled to himself. 

“Smooth Larry” I murmured. 

___________

“Here I found a tarp” I called tossing the bundled fabric at my uncle. 

“I just didn’t think that I was in immediate danger until I was” Uncle Charlie continued to explain the story I had coaxed out of him when he came back minorly distressed from the scene where the serial sniper was stopped. 

“Well yeah no one expects to die when their life has never been threatened before. Unless they’re paranoid” I muttered. 

“You seem far more calm with this then I would think” Charlie muttered as I climbed down the step ladder and we went to go outside. 

“Well I have experience around guns” I mumbled as we stepped back into the yard and was grateful to see my father there to draw away Charlie’s attention. 

“You told him?” Charlie asked. 

“Yeah about the gun range” Don muttered with a pointed look “that you shot a rifle. He shot a rifle, did a great job” Don rambled slightly. 

“I fired the rifle,” Charlie parroted. 

“Yeah, see i’m perfectly fine” Alan pointed out, wiping his hands with a rag “I didn’t fall off the ladder, I didn’t collapse. I certainly hope you got that out of your system now.” he muttered the last line at his youngest. 

“Definitely” Charlie agreed. 

I scoffed slightly and struggled to suppress my laughter at knowing the full knowledge of what happened as Gramps went to talk to Don about the stain they were putting on the house. Uncle C gave me a slight shove at my poorly suppressed amusement and I bent to help him spread the tarps. 

Chapter 10 ->

[choicesatnight]

Restart

Title:  Restart

Pairing: James Ashton x Vivian (MC)

Rating: NSFW and stuff...

Word count:  2,507 words

My disclaimer:  This character is owned by PB, I just enjoy some elaboration. I really love James Ashton and I love Choices fanfics, especially nasty ass stuff but there isn’t much featuring my original bae, James Ashton from The Freshman series

So, I decided to put my amateur ass talent to work and write with James being the *star of the story*

A/N:  * is a separator due to scene change, very very very minor use of Daddy. Super tame.

“Ohhhh…” James can't control his moaning. His dick between her breasts, he stops thrusting to focus on savoring the feel of her lips around the head of his member. She can't stop moaning either, his dick in her mouth as he runs his thumbs repeatedly over her erect nipples. Her moans are becoming louder and lasting longer each time his dick pops in and out of her mouth. Her appetite for him is as insatiable as his for her and she'd suck his dick all night if he never stopped her. Her lips around his dick is a sensation he’s addicted to feeling though his desire to taste her becomes overwhelming and he immediately moves off of her to lower his face between the thighs he loves so much. No words are spoken before his tongue meets the lips of her pussy, delving inside to find the treasure he seeks. “Daddy" she moans in a whisper, hands on the back of his head, resisting the urge to push his face until its smashed against her pussy. She can feel the vibrato of his baritone groans as he feasts on her center, her limbs writhing involuntarily responding to his tongue until he moves up to speak “This pussy is so damn perfect “ he licks her slit, “tastes amazing “ inserting a couple fingers to play a little before pushing himself up to lie on top of her, aligning his hips with hers releasing a loud grunt upon insertion “Its wetter, warmer than ever before" he starts to thrust “Faster Daddy, harder" and he increases the speed of his thrusts. She likes it rough and being pregnant hasn’t changed that. “Harder, baby I can take it.” James is devoted to giving her exactly what she wants. Bracing himself by gripping onto the couch they're lying on, he thrust powerfully into her pussy causing her to scream his name. He loves the sound of her pleasure scream, especially when she’s calling his name and he continues to thrust until her moan sounds like a balloon that's losing air, a decrescendo, a downward whistle.  Pleased knowing that he has satisfied Vivian, he quits thrusting though remains on top of her, inside of her.

Vivian only smiles before sitting up to kiss his cheek, letting him know to get up so she can get dressed. It has only been a couple of weeks since they’d agreed on a temporary separation that they didn’t seem to be adhering to considering they're still sleeping together. Once her dress is over her head, “James, tomorrow we have a prenatal appointment. I'll call you.”

“I wish you'd just stay. You're carrying our baby. You should be here with me.”

“It’s too hard to live with you and not be with you. Plus, I call you for every single thing. Appointment. Tomorrow. Okay?”

“Of course. Call me when you get home. Or at least text me that you're safe.”

“Okay James “

Without so much as a farewell kiss, she leaves the apartment that was once home to her and drives minutes away to her new place. James is fully aware that a friend helped her with her place though he is unaware that the friend in question is Shaun. He invites himself over all the time. He’s even got a key meant to be used professionally since he is the maintenance man for this complex as well, but he pops in to visit Vivian regardless of business nature. Shaun is walking the hall when Vivian arrives home.

As confident as ever. “Hey, sexy" he flashes his golden smile that usually flusters her thoughts completely.

“Just left James. We had sex.” Stating facts as coldly as she could, hoping to deter Shaun from any flirtation although she left the door open for him to follow after her. Of course, he does.

“I guess I can get why you wanna sleep with your baby's father that you're separated from. There’s still love there, right?” Surprised that he isn’t calling James “money bags” or making fun of him in any other way, she continues talking about James.

“I love him so much and I wish he'd drop this separation bs. I'm pregnant by him. What does he think I'm going to do?”

“This separation won't last long. He won't wanna be away from you or that baby for too long"

“Thanks for listening, Shaun. I didn’t realize I needed to complain."

“Anytime, sexy" that smile. This time Vivian notices his smile and finds herself stuttering when encouraging him to leave

“Um..se-se-see you tomorrow?”

“No question.” He walks out the door, she shuts it behind him and falls on the couch irritated thinking about calling James when she should be lying in bed beside him, she texts him at his request for safety assurance. He responds to the text by calling her.

“I’m glad you’re home safe. You could have been at home if you continued living here.”

He can’t see her roll her eyes at his words, but he can certainly hear the snarky attitude when she snaps back at him,

“End this dumb separation. Let’s just be together and I’ll come right now.”

Silence. She speaks again,

“Exactly. So, shut up about my living situation and I’ll see you tomorrow. “

“Don’t act so innocent Viv. I have trust issues, yes but I also WANT to be with you. Can you blame me for being scorn? Afraid? Cautious?”

“I’m not trying to act innocent. I just miss your kisses. I miss being wrapped in your arms. I miss lying beside you. I miss everything about us.”

“Let’s keep working on it; on being 'us' again. For starters, we can converse about the happenings in our lives."

She grabs a bag of Chex Mix to start snacking, munching by the handful. Even eating the bagel crisps she usually hates.

"Well, James, next week I'll officially be two months along. We have an appointment tomorrow.  There’s nothing else going on in my life.” she speaks in a monotone to accentuate her boredom with daily life sans James.

"Don’t underestimate how largely important that is. What I have to say fails to compare with pregnancy but, it's all I've got."

"I'm all ears"

"My parents are having a soiree honoring a partnership my father has made in business.  His business partner Jeff and his wife are relinquishing a good amount of control to my dad. I thought it'd be kind to give them a gift upon arrival. "

"Okay. What'd you have in my mind?"

"They love spending time at the spa. I was thinking of getting them a $1,000 gift card to a spa."

"For $1,000? James. Are you crazy? These people are not special to you.  No. That's stupid. "

"It’s polite. Everything costs so much these days. Spa treatments are expensive. A thousand dollars is like dimes and nickels "

"It’s too much. You wanna be polite? 80 bucks. 100 max. 1,000? James, what the hell? When did you become so dense? You’re the first to remind me that we have a baby on the way to take care of, but you're gonna drop a thousand bucks on a gift for your parents’ friends? Use your brain, James. I can't even deal with you right now. I gotta go " she hangs up the phone without waiting for James’ response. While changing into her pajamas she notices her a low on her phone. It's James calling. She can see his face as the phone vibrates, rolling her eyes while ignoring his call, she gets into bed; James calling again, as she drifts into a sweet slumber.

*

The night passes and Vivian awakens still feeling annoyed with James for being so careless with his money. The idea of talking to him gives her a headache and thinking about their appointment today makes the headache worse. Walking toward the bathroom she hears the clicking of her front door being unlocked and knows its Shaun. She turns directions back toward the living room to meet him,

"You can at least knock as a warning. What if I were naked?"

Shaun smiles. A smile the seems so golden. Like everything else should instantly be in glee after he smiles. "That's what I'm hoping for."

"Whatever perv." and they stand staring in one another's eyes in silence for seconds that feel like minutes. Usually, Vivian can shake this off but this time, she stumbles. Struggling to find words to change the conversation from this silent flirting. Fixing a piece of hair behind her ear she exclaims, "James!” successfully snapping out of her Shaun induced trance.  Shaun's expression of confusion is so pronounced, she would claim she could see the question marks floating around his head until she continues speaking “Um...James kinda irritated me last night."

"What'd he do?"

"He wants to gift his dads’ friend a thousand bucks. I know they’re financially set but doesn’t he know priorities? We’re having a baby and he’s just giving money away. To people he doesn't even know. For his dad!" Her chest bounces and ponytail come a little loose after her animated gesturing when explaining to Shaun

"Damn sexy, why you do your moneybags boyfriend like that?"

"He's supposed to be smart and he’s not my boyfriend. "

It was the first time she denied claim on James and Shaun notices.

"So can you take me to my appointment? I'm going without him. I'll make up an excuse. I don't wanna see him."

"Yes, I'll take you but I'm also staying.  You shouldn't be by yourself if you've got someone around during your pregnancy. Deal?"

"Deal. Let's go."

She begins walking out the door when Shaun puts his arm out to stop her

"You're forgetting something, sexy" he looks at her from head to feet.

"Oh yeah. I gotta shower. Come with?"

"Come on, sexy. Why you gotta tease me like that?" She giggles, appreciating his knowledge of her little joke before she walks into the bathroom.  

Her phone starts ringing, and she sighs seeing James face on-screen Here we go she thinks as she picks up the phone

"Vivian.  I finally got you. So we're on for today, right? I should head over there in about 20 minutes?"

Speaking softly, "No James. I didn't sleep well last night. I rescheduled. "

"Do you need anything?"

"No. I just wanna shower and lie down.”

"Okay, well I--" but she has already hung up

**

Meanwhile, at James apartment, he’s stuck constantly wondering if Vivian is telling the truth about needing more sleep. She seemed adamant about the appointment yesterday, she hurried off the phone and let’s be honest, she simply doesn’t have the greatest record of being forthcoming with James. In an effort to change his thoughts, he opens his laptop to purchase the $80 gift card that Vivian angrily suggested while still thinking of his distrust in her. It feels like an out-of-body experience when he looks up at the screen realizing he has searched private investigators. His distrust in Vivian controlling him as he reaches for his phone to dial the number. Feeling a little shy at first but more confident as the phone rings, James explains exactly what he’s looking for, and gives Vivian's address, they hang up so that James can text the investigator a few photos of Vivian as requested.  With only a smidge of guilt and much more satisfaction, James sets down the phone trusting the investigator much more than he trusts Vivian.

 After completing the transaction with the investigator, James takes the short walk to the library where he sits at his laptop working on his next play.

Beside him is a dark-haired woman on her laptop, reading reviews of Rosethorne Park.

He can't help but to speak to her,

"You saw Rosethorne Park? What did you think?"

He holds out his hand, “I'm James, by the way" she shakes his hand while turning back to her screen "Comfort. I saw the movie, but I’ve heard the movie was loosely based on the play. I also heard that the play is a million times better than the movie. The play is touring small venues in this city only so I'm reading reviews before I buy my ticket."

"I didn't get your name."

"Comfort. I said Comfort."

"Oh, I'm sorry I missed it before.  Nice to meet you, Comfort and I'd argue to agree, the play is better than the movie. The movie kinda sucks."

"In comparison, I can imagine that the movie sucks. Original work is usually better."

Comfort's enthusiasm for James work has an effect on James comparable to Cupids arrow. The magnetism between these two is more than James can comprehend. He wants to kiss Comfort and somehow, he knows she wants to be kissed by him. He and Vivian are separated so it's okay, right?

No, no she's having their baby and he wants to work things out. Guess there will be no kissing tonight.

"So, James, when do you plan on telling me that you are the accomplished James Ashton? The playwright?  The author? That Rosethorne Park was your first play, and this is your first-time touring?"

He sits shocked that she knows this stuff though his expression gradually becomes a grin showing that he is impressed by her knowledge.  And a little turned on. This girl just keeps getting better  

"What gave it away? Was I too interested in the play?"

"No, your interest level was perfect. I simply can't forget such a handsome face and I saw your picture in your author bio to your book, Prescribe to love."

"You recognized me from that? The girl I was dating at the time gave me a mini makeover for it. I don't look like that."

Why did he say that!? He just had to make it known that he's technically single right now.

"James, I'm looking at you. Yes, you do look like that. Anyway, are you teaching these days? I'd love to pick your brain."

“I don't teach, but I'd be willing to meet with you."

She closes her laptop,  

"Let's set that up."

"You closed your laptop. Are you leaving me already?"

James brand of flirting isn't so obvious, nor is it usual though he can't seem to refrain from flirting with this girl.

"Yes, I promised my grandmother I'd go to T.J Maxx with her. But I won't leave before we make our date." They share the same brand of flirting and she whips out her phone going directly to the calendar.  

"Let's not wait long. How about tomorrow?" Even her eagerness is come hither to James.

"Tomorrow is perfect.  Here's my phone number.  Text me your address. I'll come to get you"

He hands her one of the business cards he had previously printed but has never used.

"Okay, James.  What time?"

"Text me and I'll text you back." James smiles feeling suave and mysterious, Vivian not on his mind at all as he watches Comfort walk away.

Teeny tiny tag list:

@zigortega4life

@littlecrookedheart

[gascon-en-exil]

I Liked Fates Before It Was Cool!: Birthright Part 1

Prologue

Opening Chapters

Chapters 6-11, in which Hoshido’s military is extremely disorganized and only regroups because the mere idea of Ryoma is just that awesome.

Chapter 6

Not much to say here. Corrin tells Xander they’re siding with Hoshido against Garon and implores him to do the same, Xander accuses them of being brainwashed and, after repeated refusals, tries to kill Corrin. Following this is a chapter that will probably be finished during the first enemy phase unless Ryoma gets really unlucky. I suppose it makes sense that this is the shortest of the three versions of Chapter 6 as Corrin went to the border already with the Hoshidans. While it’s kind of neat that all the Hoshidan royals are playable on this map as a bit of a preview, note that this is the fourth of just seven chapters in which Ryoma has appeared as a unit prior to his formal recruitment. We get it already, the guy’s an OP powerhouse and a clear favorite of the writers.

This is also where I should probably bring up My Castle, but I don’t have much to say here as it was never a feature I particularly enjoyed. Other FEs have addressed the concept of a base for your army integrated into gameplay far better than this. Genealogy and the Tellius games and others may not let you perv on your units taking a bath or disgust them with your horrendous cooking, but what does that really add to the experience? I know, I know, a bunch of small and scattered stat boosts....

Chapter 7

Oh, silly banter in the middle of an attack while surrounded by wounded and dying soldiers. Never change, FE. But seriously, even if he’s just Cordelia with a dick whose semen produces more Cordelias let’s take the time to appreciate that Subaki is the series’s first playable male pegasus knight. Fates’s take on classes is actually very egalitarian, a fact that often gets lost in its sea of fanservice and subtle story-enforced misogyny and everything about <insert character whose gender/sexuality-related presentation offends you most>. Moving on.

I’m still not entirely clear what happens to the Hoshidan army between this chapter and the preceding one. They really appear to just break ranks and scatter: Corrin and co. go fool around in the astral plane with Lilith, Ryoma and Takumi lead some of their forces toward Izumo (why?), no one cares about Hinoka, and Sakura retreats here to Fort Jinya to tend to the wounded at a makeshift military hospital. It makes sense that the Hoshidan army wouldn’t have the strictest organization thanks to their years of protection under Mikoto’s barrier, but the problem is the game never tells us that and we’re left to infer these things based on the events of the next few chapters.

The Nohrians meanwhile are still on the offensive, but they screwed up by sending Silas’s unit to attack the fort. Silas has an unhealthy attachment to Corrin that frankly rivals Camilla’s, and his abrupt defection here because he wants to hang out with his partially amnesiac BFF undoubtedly bodes ill for anyone associated with him when news of it reaches Nohr. I guess it’s cute in my case that Silas’s obsession with Corrin knows no gender, but the guy probably steals underwear to sniff. Saizo is entirely justified in being suspicious of him.

Paralogue 1

Oh yeah, I forgot all about this chapter. Mozu’s just not as memorably meme-worthy as Donnel, and recruiting her is less frustrating since you’re not forced to make her poke things in her joining chapter. It does make the Faceless seem like more of a threat to Hoshido, although as a consequence playing through this paralogue in Conquest always feels a little weird. This plus the first Castle Invasion were mostly for EXP and support farming. For anyone wondering, I’m going to be keeping most of my characters in their default class sets since I don’t feel like grinding skills or anything elaborate like that. Also, I’m playing on Normal, so I’ve got a lot of latitude in how I play which is how I prefer FE anyway.

Chapter 8

Hinoka sums up my feelings on her and her retainers. Azama’s got some amusing lines and if I knew more about Buddhism his...interesting take on philosophy would probably be even funnier, but that’s about it. And yeah, Hinoka really just does pop onto the scene with no explanation except that she’s also trailing her brothers and I guess everyone really did forget about her. Sucks to be a late development addition.

Iago tosses the conflict ball to ensure the party’s trip to the Wind Tribe village is a rough one, though since Fuga was set on testing Corrin’s worth by sending a bunch of his tribesmen to get slaughtered by their army anyway I wonder why he even bothered. This is a rare case of a desert map that isn’t a frustrating pain in the ass, because it’s small and there are Dragon Veins to reduce the amount of sand. I also like how even on the lowest difficulty of the easiest route the game is already throwing a boss at you with some annoying skills. Fuga’s motivations may be silly, but at least he leaves us with the memory of a good chapter, some cryptic foreshadowing for the Yato, and a shota wind mage who unfortunately continues in the tradition of Ricken stepping away from their archetypical dynamic after Tellius made it just a little too close to explicitly gay.

Chapter 9

Izana, huh...Izana is...

Let’s talk about Zola!

Zola is one of the rare Fates villains who isn’t (always) exactly what he looks like. On first glance he’s just a typical simpering syncophant with a fitting talent for illusions, but he actually comes with a bit of a character arc in Birthright which I have to say I wasn’t expecting. It was almost as unexpected as Leo’s unexplained appearance at the end of this chapter to kick off said arc by leaving Zola exiled. One big problem I have with Fates is how characters have a tendency to teleport around off-screen as the plot demands it, distance between locations or basic geography be damned, but it’s marginally more forgivable here since Leo is shown later in this route to know how to perform literal teleportation.

I believe this is also one of the only times in Birthright where Hinoka gets to do something that affects the plot, so good on her for acting suspicious of fake!Izana. She’ll go right back to being overshadowed by her brothers - including being overshadowed at being overshadowed - soon enough.

Izumo’s role as the designated neutral nation is delved into more thoroughly in Conquest, weirdly enough. Here Corrin and co. get left only with a vague directive to head toward the Bottomless Canyon and some of Azura’s song lyrics. That’s kind of a good thing, because I’ve got nothing on Izana now. I get that he’s an amusing surprise the first time around, but...who wrote him like that?

Chapter 10

Allow me to divert for a moment from the Takumi angst to pick some very large nits with the geography of this game. In the previous chapter Corrin learned that Ryoma and Takumi had been pushed to the Bottomless Canyon, which is nowhere near their location - but hold onto that thought. The canyon is clearly northwest of Izumo, yet the party goes south to Mokushu allegedly in an effort to reach them there. Fates has a bad time in general with giving a good impression of where its events are taking place, partly because the scale of the map is odd and not helped by it being a topographic rather than a political map like in every other FE, partly because there are times like this where the information presented appears to be simply wrong. What’s worse, the major plot development surrounding Takumi’s possession in Birthright does not, at least so far as I recall, necessitate that he have been possessed by Anankos or anyone else connected to the Bottomless Canyon. I’ll certainly be revisiting this when the time comes.

But...whatever. In spite of everyone getting lost except Ryoma (because of course) this is actually a good chapter, with a cramped map filled with environmental hazards to add challenge. The treachery of Mokushu spans all three routes and is one of those set pieces that benefits from development in each of them. Kotaro’s connection to the, er, Christmas ninjas (and elsewhere, Shura) isn’t developed here unless you choose to have them engage him in combat, but that just saves stuff for the other routes. 

Chapter 11

Pictured: easily one of the most forgettable playable characters in this game. It’s a shame too, because she’s the only default kinshi knight and her bits of dialogue and few supports offer hints of an interesting backstory that would speak to gender roles in Hoshido. Alas, she’s merely a Corrinsexual.

This chapter itself is filler, but mechanically it’s good filler. Your new OP archer royal gets plenty of targets for his bow, there are some promoted generics to spice things up, and the Dragon Veins can either help or hinder you depending on how you use them. I don’t care for the antagonist fake-out between the opening and closing cutscenes and the chapter proper - where did possessed!Sumeragi the mysterious swordsman go while you were fighting the fliers? - but that’s a minor quibble. Corrin already beat that guy.

A larger problem is with Takumi’s development, or rather lack thereof. As I said last time the events of the opening chapters explain his initial hostility to Corrin (and Azura) quite well, and Mikoto’s death only reinforces that feeling. Why then does that hostility vanish so quickly in Birthright? Just one chapter after recruitment and he’s already turned his characteristic prickliness onto Zola instead, and I don’t recall it appearing much again except in the context of possession. It’s only the route the ends with Takumi as the final boss that allows him space for his feelings to develop organically (albeit in a negative direction), possibly because Conquest is the only one in which he’s not beholden to love Corrin like all playable characters in Avatar-centered games.

Next time: Birthright Chapter 12 - 18

[emmaswanchoosesyou]

CSBB: Part of the Narrative (4/17)

Emma Swan just wants to write the follow-up to her bestselling debut novel, that’s all. But when she gets off to a rough start with her new editor, Killian Jones, she knows it’s not going according to plan. Then, an unexpected figure from Emma’s past reappears and life begins to mirror the crime thriller she’s penning. Suspicion and secrets abound–but love might too. A writer/editor AU with a thriller twist.

Rated E. Story warnings: sexual content, kidnapping, some gore, violence, and minor character death–not to mention salty language! On Ao3 here.

Chapter warnings: more plotting and lying, and mentions of unpleasant time spent in foster care.

Happy birthday to me! Today I’m going to make like a hobbit and post this chapter (though I’ll let you decide how much of a gift that is, haha.) Just know that your comments and likes and kudos and reblogs have been cherished and squealed over. Thank you to @captainswanbigbang for all you’ve done to make this possible, and all the support you’ve given. Sophie @shady-swan-jones made the delightful banner and another photoset that I adore. Kayla @bleebug did some incredible art for the first chapter, which you can check out here. And all the love and thanks to Kris @sambethe for beta-ing this and making it a ton better.

[Ch. 1] [2] [3]

Chapter 4

Emma turns in some first drafts, and Killian sees another connection between them. His realization of how much her book means to her sparks a realization of his own.

Killian

Killian pressed his hand to his temple, willing the headache to stay away. He hadn’t seen Emma since his meeting with her at Granny’s a couple weeks before. They’d exchanged emails back and forth, terse on her end and exceedingly polite (he might be compensating for something, his brain whispered) on his.

But today was the day he’d asked for her prospectus and an outline. It was due at the end of the day, which was rapidly approaching. He glanced up at the clock, wincing when he saw that it was nearly three in the afternoon.

Then he heard a knock on his office door. “Come in.”

“Hey,” Emma said, poking her head around the door. You could have knocked him over with a feather, he was so surprised to see her.

She looked lovely as always in her simple plaid dress, leggings, and leather jacket. She was even wearing glasses, and he felt some of his frustration draining away at the sight of her. “Er, hello, Swan.”

“I brought you a present.” There was something cautious in her voice, softer than he was expecting given their previous interactions.

“Oh, whatever could it be? Flowers? Chocolates?” He grinned at her, hoping to play his eagerness off as light-hearted flirtation and teasing.

She rolled her eyes, but he saw the ghost of a smile at the corner of her mouth as she walked toward his desk. “No, Jones. A draft.”

“A draft?”

“Of the first chapter. I have the outline and abstract-y thing you wanted too.”

He glanced up at her sharply. “Well, that’s exciting. I was only expecting the latter two.”

“I got extra inspired,” she said, shrugging.

“Then I’m excited to read it, after I look over the outline and, er, ‘abstract-y thing’ as you say.”

Emma sat down, her hands falling to her lap. “I--listen, I figured you might want to take a look at a sample of an earlier draft of my writing, and we could see how to work with it together from there.”

Keep your face neutral, mate, he told himself, inwardly dancing for joy at the tentative olive branch she was offering. Outwardly, he said, “That’ll be excellent, lo-Emma.”

Her face broke into a full grin. “Lo-Emma, huh?”

“Just doing my best to abide by our new no-moniker rules, but old habits are hard to break.”

“No, it’s cool. I think it’s how I’ll introduce myself from now on.” She was smirking, so he took her gentle mockery as a good thing.

Shaking his head, Killian feigned a dramatic sigh. “I see how it’s to be.”

She looked like she was about to say more, but then she started. “Oh! Before I forget--” She placed a small thumb drive on the edge of his desk. “Here’s the drive that has everything on it.”

He leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Wouldn’t an email have been simpler?”

“Simpler, maybe. Certainly less secure.”

“Ah, you fear hacking?” He was intrigued. She didn’t seem like the paranoid type.

“Well, my website was hacked once a few months ago.” She shrugged. “And my work in bail bonds taught me that the less you keep online, the better.”

He picked up the thumb drive and inserted it into his laptop. “Hang on, I didn’t realize you actually worked in bail bonds. I thought you tailed had one for a while.”

“And here I’d have thought you’d have done your homework better,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “No, I worked in bail bonds for a few years. It helped me pay the bills and get a feel for the world of law enforcement, since that’s what I wanted to write about.”

“And you did a magnificent job. Your knowledge of the criminal underworld and the people involved with bringing them to justice certainly came through in the text,” he hurried to reassure her.

A wry look he couldn’t quite decipher crossed her face. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. I learned a lot over the years.”

“Your first book was excellent, Swan. It’s plain to see that a lot of research and knowledge went into it.”

That finally drew a genuine smile from her. “I’m glad you think so. Fruit of my labor and all that jazz.”

“Ah, yes.” He shook his head and carded his fingers through his hair. “Which explains why my initial approach went over like lead in water.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Yeah. But you’re right, there’s room for improvement.”

“Nonetheless, I apologize for my rudeness and the way I expressed myself. It was...ill-advised.”

Emma snorted but gave him a small smile. “No shit. But thanks for the apology. Besides, I could have handled the situation--and the criticism--better.”

He waved that aside. “You behaved as most people would when their child was attacked. And your book, as you put it, being the fruit of your labor…”

That same indefinable look from earlier came back to her face, but she pressed on. “Fair enough. So, should we, I dunno, let bygones be bygones?”

“Sounds excellent,” he said, clearing his throat. “Oh, one last thing--in light of said disagreements, I was hoping that we could be a bit more collaborative in our approach. If, perhaps, I was able to find a good, secure server for us to work on, would you be fine with putting the any future work there?”

She hesitated. “Um, if you can? But I want to okay it first, if that’s all right.”

“Certainly. I still have some military and and journalistic contacts who need higher degrees of security, so I’m sure they’ll have something to recommend.”

She bit her lip, mulling this over. “That should work.”

Killian told himself not to let his gaze drop to said lips. “Excellent. Would you like me to get in touch if I find something?”

“Sure. You can call or email.”

He relaxed back into his chair, some of the tension draining from him. “Wonderful. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

&&&

Killian worked at home the next day, having received permission to do so occasionally. After all, today was about doing his first read-through of Emma’s draft, and he wanted to be comfortable while doing so.

After she’d left his office the previous day, he had let Cleo, August, and Regina know that she’d met the deadline. He’d met with a variety of reactions, from Regina’s “Very well, keep on,” to August’s enthusiastic response and desire to be kept in the loop entirely, to Cleo’s subdued but measuring acceptance and comment that she was glad they’d found a way to work together. He’d been tasked with looking over some promising manuscripts, so had spent the rest of the afternoon doing just that.

And now his reward--getting to sit in his comfortable but spartan apartment, drinking coffee and rum while he edited from his favorite chair.

The blasted thing had finally arrived from the UK, one of the few items of furniture he refused to part with in the move. Honestly, it was a monstrosity, an old reclining wingback chair, but it had been Liam’s. For all its resistance to classification, it was comfortable. He’d spent many an hour in the ridiculous thing. On his own in a sullen, drunken fog. Sitting next to Milah in the daintier chair she’d selected, or his favorite of all--when she’d slipped onto his lap and they’d snuggled in the chair.

(The usual dull ache was still present when he thought of Milah, but its sharpness was starting to fade. Killian wondered what that meant.)

Pouring himself a small glass of rum and carrying that and his coffee with him over to the chair, he situated himself with a blanket and pulled up Emma’s summary and outline.

An hour later, he was immersed in her outline, writing notes and comments for parts he wanted to talk about and hear more about. He couldn’t wait.

As he continued to read, he came to a realization--only someone who had lived through the foster care system could write about it so knowledgeably and so passionately. This wasn’t just a plotline for Emma. This was more--this was her life.

Killian bit his lip, regretting some of his previous comments and assumptions about her and wondering how he should proceed. He wanted--no, needed--to make sure she knew he would support her. And that he understood, perhaps better than she knew.

He debated calling or texting her, but finally settled on an email, giving her space so that she didn’t feel obligated to acknowledge or respond to him.

He hesitated, unsure of how to begin.

Swan--

Right now, I just want to take the moment to tell you how thrilled, how in awe I am of your talent and skill with words.

I have comments, queries, and edits, but before I go over that, I needed to let you know how excited I am for this novel. (Oh, and as an aside, a friend showed me a server that I think will do nicely for us. I’ll be in my office tomorrow if you want to check it out, but you can always call if you’d like to make sure I’m there.)

Not only does your book promise to be well-written, but you’re handling this sensitive topic amazingly well.

Confession: I was in the system myself (albeit in the UK), along with my brother. My mum passed away when Liam and I were quite young, and my dad ran out on us a couple years after that. I was all of nine years old, and Liam was just fifteen.

We muddled along for the next few years. Some of the homes were pleasant enough, while others were...well, hell. Liam joined the military at eighteen to try to take care of us, and I was able to leave the system at sixteen. I can’t imagine the struggles that would come with being in for even longer.

Having shared all this personal information--and my apologies if this makes things awkward--I am beyond relieved to see how you plan on handling the topic of foster care and foster children.

If you ever want to have a chat about this, you know where to find me. My personal number is 555-687-9305, in case you ever need another perspective or to share stories (excuse my presumption if I’m wrong).

Killian hesitated, trying to decide on the best way to end the missive, as he was already toeing the line between professional and personal.

Best, Killian

P.S. I particularly like the depth of characterization for the main character and the sense of doom and offness that’s present even in the first chapter.

There. That should do it.

He clicked send and hoped Emma wouldn’t be too put off by his email.

&&&

Killian awoke feeling vaguely nervous and apprehensive about work. He hadn’t checked his email yet, but he hadn’t received a reply from Emma the previous day. He knew it was too soon and that she might need time to see his message, let alone respond. But still, it made him anxious.

To keep himself distracted, he’d responded to a text from Robin Locksley, taking him up on an invitation to meet him at a little pub that Robin swore was just like those at home. Hearing familiar accents had been a relief, a balm for his somewhat weary soul. And Robin seemed like a good sort, for a detective. He was a widower, his wife had been good friends with Milah in the early years of their careers. They’d grown apart, but the tenuous connection had provided some good bonding between him and Robin. They’d drunk just enough to do their country proud but not so much that either would be hungover today.

After greeting Ariel cheerfully (well, with as much as he could muster--no match for her levels, to be sure) and nodding politely to Cleo when he passed her in the hall, he slipped into his chair and took a deep breath as he turned on his computer. He opened his email, and…

Nothing.

Nary a short “okay” from Emma, not even a single, pointed word. Dammit.

He rubbed his hand over his face, not having realized how much he’d hoped she would recognize him as a kindred spirit, a fellow lost boy to her lost girl. He was so distracted by his thoughts, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a short knock on his door before. He looked over to find Emma poking her head into his office.

“Hey. Am I interrupting anything?” She frowned, her forehead wrinkling making her look uncertain and a little wary, and nothing short of perfect.

He nearly tripped, stumbling to his feet to greet her. “No! Not at all. Come in, come in.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. She handed him a coffee cup and lifted her own in acknowledgment. “Thank you. For the feedback and the email. And for telling me about the rest.”

“Oh, er, right…” he fought the urge to scratch behind his ear. What was it about this woman that made him feel like a teenager all over again?

She seemed to pick up on his awkwardness. “So yeah. Thank you.”

“I--it was really no trouble, Swan. I meant what I said la--”

“I’m here to ask you on a date.”

“--st ni--pardon?!”

Emma looked at him, the crease in her brow deepening at his lack of comprehension. He clearly had thrown her off with his stuttering response. She took a breath. “I’m asking you out?”

“Oh!” he said, scratching a finger at the lid of his coffee cup. “Er, as long as it’s not a question...er, yes.”

She smiled then, one of her brilliant, full smiles, and he felt as though he’d been blinded by the sun. “Awesome.”

He smiled back, unable to stop himself. “I have just one condition--let me plan the date.”

“Hey, I was going to show you the town,” she pouted.

He laughed and took a step toward her. “No offense, love, but while you are the one I’d turn to for a well-crafted paragraph, I think planning romantic outings might be more my area of expertise.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the corner of her mouth still twitched. “You still can’t call me ‘love’.”

“Fine, Emma,” he sighed dramatically, trying to fight off another grin.

She stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them. “Lo-Emma, though,” she said, tapping a finger against her mouth, “that’s cool.”

“Good to know.”

She took a step back. “Cool.”

“So...shall I let you know when I’ve made plans for our date?”

Emma nodded at him happily, smiling serenely as she bid him farewell for now.

&&&

By the time he was able to organize something that worked for both his and Emma’s schedules, it was nearly a week later. Killian hoped the evening would suit her. He just wanted a good way for them to get to know each other better.

And they had been. Getting to know each other, that is.

While they hadn’t had a chance to see each other again, the days had been filled with texts and emails between them. Most were light, casual things, but a few...well, Killian was reminded of his near-celibacy since Milah’s death (other than a brief, alcohol-fueled spell where he had gone home from the bar with a different woman every night, which had ended abruptly when one had stolen a vintage compass that had been a gift from Liam).

Now, as he buttoned his vest in preparation for their date, he felt his gut churning. It was mostly excitement, to be sure. Being around Emma--it was to know life, excitement, both things he’d forgotten about in his grief and anger.

But he couldn’t pretend that part of what was bothering him wasn’t guilt. It had been almost two years since Milah’s passing, and he knew it was time to move on. Milah would want this; he knew that on an intellectual level. He and Emma had something that he wanted to explore.

But was he betraying Milah’s memory? Was he ready?

And then there was the other part of this that left him uneasy...his obligations to August. Now, more than ever, he regretted agreeing to August’s schemes and subterfuge. It made him feel dirty, and however she’d feel about Emma, Milah would hate this.

So would Emma. Actually, hate probably wasn’t strong enough--she’d loathe it, and she’d be right to never speak to him again if she found out.

He had to find a way to end this foul partnership and distance himself from August, even if it would cost him his job and whatever was growing between him and Emma. Even if he had to return to his apartment in London, with the intimidating blokes watching it…

But he would do it, because it was the right thing, and it was time for him to make better choices.

&&&

“I’m done,” Killian said without preamble.

“What? What are you talking about?” replied the voice at the other end of the line.

“I’m done keeping tabs on Emma, done spying on her for you. From now on, you’ll get the same updates as Cleo and Regina.”

There was a long silence, and then August spoke. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Jones? My...partner...won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“I’m sure.”

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that you owe us. For getting you out of the mess you were in, and for getting you settled in here. We can make things very unpleasant for you.”

He gritted his teeth. “I’m sure you can, but I’m also confident that I’m the best choice for editor. I’ll continue doing my job,and I’ll repay my debt. Just not like that.”

August snorted. “Emma’s gotten to you, hasn’t she? Graham liked her too. If he’d lived, the two of them probably would have made a go of it. For all I know, they were going at it--”

“Enough. Emma’s past is her own, and her present is hers to decide. Do what you’d like with me, but leave her out of it.”

“You can’t afford the price to be paid, Jones. And you’re too much of a coward to try to pay it anyway. It’s part of what made you such a good choice.”

Killian hung up, the vein in his forehead throbbing. “We’ll see,” he said. “We shall see.”

He smiled grimly at his reflection in the mirror. It was time to meet Emma for their date, and he had to get himself in line. She didn’t need to know about his turmoil, about this mess of a situation. She couldn’t know.

[bbwoulfc]

Rough Housing Ch. 2

Tikki is just a sweet character I swear. And Adrien and Marinette are just adorable as fuck and way too innocent....well, maybe.

You can read more here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7297537/chapters/16574029

Chapter Two: Meet Your Residence Don

Walking through the electronic sliding doors of the dorm’s entrance, the four enter the large area of the lobby.  The lobby was nice in appearance.  The front desk on one side where students could check out rental equipment, movies, games, pay rent, and work orders for any issues that occur in residents’ rooms.  Across from the front desk in the other corner of the lobby stood two couches and two chairs, and a television to keep those waiting entertained.

Seeing the security guard situated near the entrance, the four take out their IDs and display them to the security guard to ensure that they were residents of the building.  Giving the young adults a nod, the four thank the officer and continue their way across the lobby towards the courtyard.

Exiting through one of the lobby doors, they enter into the nearest first floor hallway and make their way towards the elevator.  Stepping in the elevator, the four head up to the fourth floor, arriving on the south/east side of the building.

Hearing the ding of the elevator, everyone exits onto the fourth floor as Marinette and Alya lead the boys towards the south hallway where their apartment’s located.

“Where are your rooms located?”  Asked Marinette to the two boys, both her and Alya curious on how far their two other group members were situated.

Adrien was the first to respond to Marinette’s question.  “Our room is located on the north side of the fourth floor.  So not too far you ladies.”

“That’s good to know.  Now I don’t have to worry about traveling to far to get to Nino.”  Said Alya.

“I wonder why?”  Said Adrien, looking at Alya as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“I love you, Adrien, but I will slap that sunshine goodness out of you.”  Replies Alya playfully.  “I’m sure you’re smart enough to know why I’m glad yours and Nino’s apartment is close.”

A shiver and cringe of a feeling shoots through Adrien’s body.  If he’s speaking truthfully, he doesn’t even want to begin moving towards that area of conversation.

“Fair enough, Alya.  I just don’t want to go towards that area of discussion.”  Was all Adrien offers in return.

Chuckling, Alya and the others continue their way down the hallway, moving around other student residents and parents when all four hear a voice behind them greet them with a tone of sweetness to their voice.

“Hello!”

Turning around, the four friends look to see a young woman, just slightly taller than Marinette.  She was beautiful young lady with bright blue eyes, close to Marinette’s blue but a shade or two darker, a fair tan skin tone, and brownish red hair (mahogany red).  She looked like a sweet little thing.  A bright smile on her face.  She had to be no more than two years older from them.

“I hope you four have moved in nicely and made yourselves comfortable as well as getting acquainted with the dormitory.”

All four give the young woman a smile and nod.

“I’m glad.  Now, it’s probably best that I introduce myself.  My name is Tikki.  I’m the RA that watches over the south and east wing of the fourth floor.  May I ask your names?”

Taking the initiative to answer first, Adrien politely response, “My name is Adrien.”  Pointing to his friends in order, “And this is Marinette, Alya, and Nino.”

Giving a bright smile to the four, Tikki radiates in joy and excitement.  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you four.  What majors are we to expect you four going into?”

This form of discussion wasn’t new for Tikki.  It was part of the duties as an RA to get to know the residents of the dormitory.  Besides most of the RAs, Tikki found meeting new residents, a majority being incoming freshman, found it thrilling to learn about the new students and what kind of career paths they decide to travel on.

Then again, how could one not talk to a Tikki as she looks to always be a ray of sunshine.  Marinette, Alya, and Nino feel like Tikki outshines Adrien of his sweetness and purity.  Never thought anyone could beat the sunshine child.  Well, they found to be wrong.

Blinking away from their short mental block, Marinette takes her turn to respond for her friends.  “I’m majoring into fashion and interior design with a minor in business, Adrien is majoring in physics with a minor in teaching, Alya is majoring in journalism with a minor in business as well, and Nino is majoring in recording arts as well as minoring in business.”

Tikki claps her hands a few times in a joyous moment, her smile growing.  “Oh how exciting.  All those majors sound thrilling and fun.  As for me, I’m majoring in history and archeology with a minor in teaching since I’m not sure whether I want to teach but it never hurts to have it under your belt.  I look forward to learning more about your four.  Are all of you residents of the south and east floor?”

“No.”  Replied Marinette.  She points to herself and Alya, “Alya and I are” -pointing to Adrien and Nino- “but Adrien and Nino’s room is located in the north side of the fourth floor.”

Tikki’s smile turns to a grin when she hears the information of Adrien and Nino being located in the north side of the fourth floor.

“The north side, huh?  Well, you boys will definitely enjoy your RA.  He can be quite the interesting character but he’s an amazing friend once you take the opportunity to get to know him.  He’ll act grumpy but it’s really his mask to prevent with dealing with residents he finds annoying, but he can be serious if the moment calls for it.  He’s my best friend and boyfriend, my partner as we both look after the entire fourth floor.  Your RA’s name is Plagg.  Trust me when I say it won’t be hard to miss him.  He’s a tall young man” -Tikki points to Adrien- “similar to your height.  Fair skin, black cat color hair, and green eyes.  To make it easier for you, Plagg repetitively smells like Camembert.  It’s not the greatest smell but you learn to live with it.”

“Good to know.”  Chuckles Nino.

Looking at her watch wrapped around her wrist, Tikki looks to see the hallways still crowded with students and parents.

“Well then, I don’t want to take more of your time and I probably should get back to seeing if any students and parents are in need of help.  I’m sure you four have plans and I wouldn’t want to keep you from them.  It was a pleasure taking the moment to meet all of you and I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.  If any of you are in need of anything, you can find me at my room in S401.  You four have a great day.”

Turning around, Tikki walks down the hallway towards a family needing assistance as Marinette and the others continue to her and Alya’s room a few doors down.  Once they reach the door, Marinette inserts her key card, hearing the locks unlock, opening the door when they hear Tikki calling out a second time.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Everyone looks back at Tikki and wait for her to continue.

“There’s a floor meeting for the fourth floor tonight at six this evening.  We’ll be in the courtyard and going over the dorm rules and such.  See you guys later.”

With that said, Tikki continues her way towards the family and the four enter inside the apartment.

Once everyone enters inside, Marinette closes the door behind them as the other three head straight for the couches.

Walking into the living room herself, Marinette takes a seat next to Adrien while Alya sits beside Nino.  Sitting closest to the coffee table, Alya reaches for the tv remote and turns on the television.  Flipping through multiple channels until stumbling upon a popular series that everyone agreed upon.

The nice thing that came with ability to stay at this particular dormitory is that all the apartment rooms came fully furnished.  Along with utilities, a flat screen television set in the living room, and cable both in the living room and individual bedrooms.  Honestly, it was very well set up for a dormitory.  And it doesn’t hurt to have all of this while being a freshman.

With the television on in the background, Alya turns to the others and brings up a conversation about planning a get together party.

“I figured while we’re all sitting here, I want to try and use this time to plan a get together party for tonight.  You know with all our friends from collége and lycée.  I wasn’t thinking of anything big, just big enough for all of us, you know simple for now.  Don’t really want to take the chance to ruin our new apartment when we just moved in.”  

“That would be awesome.  It has been a whole summer since we’ve seen everyone.  Of course, we wouldn’t have everyone here.  Who is it; Alix, Kim, Nathanael, Max, Rose, Juleka, Ivan, and Mylene that all ended up here at the same university as us?”  Responded Nino.

“Yea.  Though, I think Sabrina is here too.”  Added Marinette.

“What?”  Asked Alya and Nino in surprised unison.

“I thought she was with Chloe at the University de Akuma?”  Continued Alya.

“Oh no.  She ditched Chloe once she had the chance and official took a stand calling out Chloe’s controlling and manipulative ways.”  Adrien, Nino, and Alya look at Marinette with startled expressions.  They had no idea that Sabrina would actually escape the clutches of the she-devil herself.  “From the last time I talked to her, which was during the summer actually, when she stopped by the bakery one morning in which we got into a small conversation.  But anyways, Sabrina told me that she was also going to attend here and is majoring in law or something related to justice where she’s aiming to be a lawyer.”

“Wow.  That’s some sick shit right there.”  Nino was the one to speak.  “I’m proud of her.  To be honest, I always felt like Sabrina could be a fun girl to hang out with, but being stuck with Chloe completely prevented her from spreading her wings to truly enjoy a good time.  If you all agree, I think we should expand the invite to Sabrina.  Give her the chance to catch up on what she missed with actual friends.”

“I think that would be a great idea.  I’m sure Sabrina would appreciate the thought of us extending our circle to include her.”  Agreed Marinette.  “Though I think it would be best that we plan the get together party for another night.  Since it is move in this whole week, people will be exhausted and probably busy with family.  Plus, we our floor meeting with Tikki and the other RA in a bit.  Probably best to plan another night.”

“I think Marinette has a good point.”  Said Adrien.  “Personally, I don’t think I have it in me to plan a party after moving in.  Besides, posted somewhere in one of the hallways, I saw a flyer about a party along with other activities for the entire week of move in.  If I remember correctly, I positive that the party is tonight for all the residents down in the courtyard tonight.”

“Oooohhh, now that sounds amazing!”  Glee Alya.  “Okay, we’ll move our own party for another night.  Which is a good decision since it’ll give us more time to prep and plan a trip to collect alcohol and snacks, and whatever else we decide later on.  This exciting.  I can’t wait.”

“Alright, calm down, Alya.  It’s not like we haven’t thrown a party to the same level before.”  Said Marinette.  Remembering the crazy and chaotic party they through at her house during their last semester of senior.  She was more glad that Alya’s parents were gone for a short vacation meeting family.

“Yea, yea.  Whatever you say, Mari.”  Was all Alya had to say in response as she stands up and walks her way towards their kitchen.  Thinking of food, Nino stands up from the couch and follows his girlfriend into the kitchen to retrieve a beverage to quench his thirst.

While those two search the kitchen, back on the couch, Marinette and Adrien readjust in comfort and turn their attention to the television, their full focus on the show playing in front of them.  Marinette sits back with her hands resting in her lap as Adrien spreads his arms along the top of the couch.

In the moment of relaxation and as if on reflex, Adrien slides his right arm from the location on top of the couch and drops down to rest around Marinette’s shoulders.

Feeling the pressure and weight around her shoulders; keeping her body and head facing forward, Marinette lowers her eyes to gaze that the added weight was indeed what she expected it to be.  Seeing Adrien’s arm around her shoulders brings a smile on her lips.  Trying her hardest to remain relaxed while internally freaking out.

Now, it’s not like Marinette and Adrien haven’t snuggled before.  During their years of lycée, Adrien would appear multiple times at the Dupain-Cheng’s house where Adrien would seek comfort from issues consisting with his father.  Being the sweet and kind person she is, Marinette always opened her home to Adrien where in consisted giving him a good hearty homemade dinner with her and her parents, and then usually resulted to snuggling and watching movies where Adrien could just relax and try to bypass everything that happened that upset or destressed him previously.

She’s had Adrien put his arms around her shoulders before, even with the memory of his arms around her waist at their graduation, but for some reason having his arm around her shoulder right now felt completely different.

‘Oh my god.  I can’t believe Adrien has his arm resting around my shoulder.  Is this really happening?  There’s no way he would purposely do this, right?’

Beside her, Adrien was reacting just as much like Marinette with the internal freak out.  ‘I can’t believe I did that.  I have my arm around Marinette’s shoulders.  Holy shit.  Okay, okay.  She hasn’t pushed me or my arm away yet.  Does this mean she’s okay with this?  Dammit!  I’m not sure what to do!’

Thinking of multiple possibilities of what this one action meant, Marinette begins to hear Alya’s voice in the back of her head about taking risks.  She remembers having that discussion with her during the summer about taking risks and not be afraid when it comes to your happiness.  And Alya was right, she always was.  And she did agree that she’d give it a go once they entered university.

Well, here it goes.  Calming herself down and taking a quiet deep breath, Marinette takes her bold move and slowly leans against Adrien, moving closer until their bodies were touching.  She pushes her luck further by resting her head on top of his shoulder.

‘I can’t believe I did it!’  Gazing her eyes up to sneak a peek at Adrien, Marinette notices Adrien’s attention remaining on the tv in front of them but what caught her attention most was the redness covering his cheeks…actually, look more like his entire face.  ‘Is – is Adrien blushing?  No way.  Maybe I can work with this.  Alright, from here on out, no more of the nervous Marinette from lycée.’

If it couldn’t get any better, once she leant closer to him, Marinette could feel Adrien reflex, tightening his hold around her.  ‘Holy shit!  I can’t believe Mari is leaning against me.  What does this mean?!  Does this mean she likes me?!  I wasn’t expecting this when I agreed to taking risks.  Nino!’

Keeping his focus on the television, Adrien’s eyes widen further when he felt Marinette move and press herself closer against him.  The blush on his face only to grow a little darker.  Marinette felt lucky at the moment that Adrien couldn’t see her own blush.

From the kitchen, Nino and Alya watch on at the two, their own grins taking place along their face.  Quiet snickering only occurring once they saw Adrien’s first reaction.

Nino quietly turns to Alya, “Babe, did you see Adrien’s face?  Poor dude looks like he doesn’t know what to do.”

“I know.  I didn’t think he’d actually ever make a move.  He never did in lycee.”

“You’d have to thank me for that, Al.  I told my bro he had to start taking risks if he didn’t want to lose Mari to someone else.  He said he’d do it, but I was afraid he was lying.”

“Well, I think he proved you wrong.  Plus, it appears our Mari is finally flirting back as well.  Interesting enough, I told her something similar about taking risks.”

“Now that those two have started taking the steps, does this mean we can finally start that betting pool?”

“Oh sweetie, you know it.  I’ll text the others now.”

“This is going to be so sweet.”  Nino takes a sip of his drink while Alya sends a group text about meeting up with the others.  Hopefully her and Nino will be able to ditch the two oblivious children to meet up with their other friends.

                                                            *****

When six rolled around that evening, all four exited Marinette and Alya’s apartment and began heading their way towards the courtyard where the floor meeting was to take place.

Taking the hallway down to the elevator and down to the first floor, all four of them exit the hallway that led to the outside and made their way to the courtyard.  Reaching the general area, everyone could see other student residents gathering around the selected area.  Everyone crowded and secluded in their own little groups talking or playing simple games with one another.

With the amount of students scattered around the area, they search for any available spot to sit.

Glancing around, all four notice some small space openings near the back corner of the courtyard where a section of a small cement wall houses a small area of bushes and flowers.

Moving along the maze of students, Nino finds an open spot on the grass in the corner and ushers Alya over to sit beside him.  Wrapping his arm around her waist once she sat beside him.  Looking to the small concrete bed housing the garden, Adrien moves and settles on the top of the cold cement wall.

Looking beside him, Adrien watches as Mari remains standing facing the courtyard overlooking the other students.  With as congested as the courtyard is, he could see there wasn’t much available seating which caused him to take action on the next best thing.

“Uh, Mari?”

Marinette looks behind over her shoulder to Adrien.  “Yes?”

Taking a deep breath, Adrien swallows his nerves as he stares into her addicting bluebell eyes.

“Since there’s not much available space to sit…you can s-sit on my lap…i-if you want.”  Says Adrien while trying his damn near hardest to refrain the blush that’s attempting to creep along his face.  Then again, how was he supposed to act when you just offered your crush to sit in your lap.

Marinette’s shoulders stiffen from the words that uttered from her crushes mouth.  She knows very well that there’s not much space to sit in the courtyard, but receiving that offer was un-expecting, and just the thought of sitting in Adrien’s lap sounded amazing.

Attempting to hide and force down the blush threatening to appear on her face, she looks at Adrien fully.  “A-are you sure?  I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to feel obligated because there’s now available seating.”  She had no idea what had gotten into her.  She just promised herself that she wouldn’t be nervous anymore.  Complete fail at her first sentence.

Adrien rubs the back of his neck with his hand as he looks at Marinette shyly.  “I assure you, Mari.  Out of anyone I know, you are the one that could never make me feel uncomfortable.”  He stated confidently.

Offering him a sweet, shy smile, Marinette gives him a nod and walks over to Adrien.  Sitting himself up and shifting into a comfortable, relaxing position, he reaches for Marinette’s hand, which she gladly gives him, and pulls her towards him.  Turning around, Marinette leans down and sits on Adrien’s lap until she rested against part of his chest, her body in a partial sideway position.

With the height of the cement wall, both their legs dangle freely as Adrien wraps his arms around Marinette’s waist to ensure she wouldn’t slip.  Not that she would or just because he really wanted to hold her close.  That would be just…what, awkward?

Marinette twists her head to look at Adrien still holding her sweet smile.  “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”  Adrien muttered softly, falling victim to her wondrous eyes again.

As if a dome surrounded them, silence fell between them as they stared at one another adoringly.  The force between them growing heavy, both unknowingly gaze at the other’s lips.  Adrien felt drawn at the soft, curved, and fully pink of Marinette’s lips.  He didn’t even feel himself glide his tongue along his lips, imagining what her lips could possibly taste like.

The force drawing stronger, both unknowingly begin leaning towards the other, lips coming closer in contact when a loud feminine voice rung out through the courtyard.

“HELLO EVERYONE!”

Marinette and Adrien jerk back in retreat, looking at one another, red faced as they turn their attention to the new presence as everyone look to see Tikki in the center with a man beside her of the same age.  To the main four, they were sure it must be the other RA, Plagg.

“Good evening everyone!  Thank you all for coming to our floor meeting.  I can assure you that we’ll make this as fast as possible as I’m sure a lot of you are still trying to move in and unpacking.  So to start off, I would like to introduce myself.  My name is Tikki.  I’m the resident assistant that looks over the south and east side of the halls.  So if you need anything you can find me in S401.”  Posing her hand towards her partner, “And beside me is my partner, Plagg.”

Taking that as his cue, Plagg introduces himself.

“Evening everyone.  Like my partner had mentioned, my name’s Plagg.  I’m the resident assistant of the fourth floor as well.  I look after the west and north side.  If any of you need anything you can find me in room N405.”

Not always the talker, Plagg looks at Tikki in which she takes in as her cue to lead again and explain what they had to.

“For this meeting, we wanted to go through some of the safety and rules here at the dormitory.  First off, these are non-smoking buildings.  If you must smoke or whatever, please do it off the premises of the property.  If at all you smoke in your apartment and we are called up, it will result in a write up, documenting everything we see and find as a result.  We can’t confirm what the consequences will be as it’s the decision of the managers of the dormitory and the school.  So keep that in mind.  As for alcohol, we know a majority of you are of age.  All that we ask in accordance of alcohol is that all of you drink responsibly.  It would also be in your best interest to ensure that if there is any alcohol in your room that there is no one underage with you.  If we are called and find anyone underage, it will result with everyone written up.  For whatever reason should there be an emergency to arise and you need medical help, please don’t hesitate to come to me and Plagg.  We are here to ensure all your safety.  Both Plagg and I know it’s university, it’s the time of your life to explore and have fun.  All that we ask is that you all are careful and take it safely and don’t hesitate to come to us for help.”

Plagg steps up and begins speaking.  “Basically in simpler terms, we both want you all to have fun, just don’t be stupid about it.”    

Tikki turns and looks at Plagg with a serious expression, a brow raised.  Plagg just mouths ‘what?’ to her with a shrug of his shoulders.

Giving off a huff, Tikki shakes her head and stares back at the students to continue her speech.

“We also expect you all to get along with one another.  If you have any issues with your roommates or neighbors, we expect you to act like the adults you are and attempt to solve the situation yourselves.  If the issue however doesn’t get resolved, then feel free to come to either Plagg and I, and we’ll help and try to solve the situation.  We’re basically a big family where this dorm is to be a friendly community.  As for a curfew, there is no curfew.  Just make sure you have your key cards and ID’s to get back into the building.  There are a lot more rules, but we know you all are busy.  So please, take the time to read all the information and rules from our bulletin board that can be located by my room or Plagg’s room.  So without further delay, Plagg and I are happy to have you as our residents.”

“Like wise.  And before you all leave, we would like to mention that this entire week before school starts up next week on Tuesday, we as in all the staff here are holding activities and events to have fun and meet others.  For tonight, we have our casino and dance night beginning at eight in the gym or auditorium…or whatever you want to call it, ballroom, whatever.  The dancing will be held in there while the casino games will be scattered throughout the courtyard with a bar serving non-alcohol version drinks.  For tomorrow, there will be a hike where we’ll take residents to the nearest countryside for the hiking trails.  In the evening we have a battle of the bands show where upper classmen will play it out for you.  For Wednesday, it’ll be a shopping spree.  Some of us will take students to the nearest mall and grocery stores to stock up on whatever it is you still need.  So make sure you make a list.  On Thursday, we got tickets for the whole dormitory to watch the France’s soccer game.”  All the students perked up.  Who would have thought they’d get all these awesome opportunities in events?  “As for Friday through Monday, that’s your free day to prepare for your classes.  We will hold a campus tour of the university on Saturday for any of you who want help finding your classes.  So I think that covers it for you guys.”  Added Plagg.

“Thank you all again for coming and enjoy the rest of your evening.  We hope to see all of you tonight to have fun.”  Tikki stated lastly as students began standing up and making their way back to either their rooms or other locations of the dorms.

Tikki and Plagg waved all the students off and turned around to head back towards the main office and lobby area to meet up with the other staff members to finish up the last remaining tasks for the casino and dance night.

                                                         *****

With all the students trickling from the courtyard, a good majority of the fourth floor residents were heading back towards their apartments.

Taking the stairs this time, all four enter the fourth floor through the south east staircase and watch as the entire hallways were congested with students.  Squeezing their way through, Marinette and Alya split Adrien and Nino when the two girls bump into a group of three girls.

“I’m so sorry.”  Apologized Marinette.

The girl turns around to look at Marinette and Alya, the girl’s friends turning around as well.  The girl that Marinette bumped into gave her a smile.  “It’s alright.  The hallways pretty crowded.  So no harm done.  We were just trying to make our way through.  I’m assuming you two are doing the same?”

“Yes, actually.  Our room is at the end.  Room S414.”  Responded Marinette.  A smile on her face as well, feeling grateful that the three girls weren’t upset.

“No kidding.  Our room is S413 across from you.  We can make our way down there together.”  The girl replied.

Giving a nod, Marinette and Alya follow the three other girls as they introduce each other and zigzag through the maze of students.

Back near the staircase, Adrien and Nino stood near a corner talking to a small group of girls and boys.  They figured might as well make some new friends and get to know your neighbors or fellow residents.  Surprisingly, Adrien and Nino found out that the group they were having a conversation with lived in the north side of the fourth floor, making it easier to continue conversations through different topics.

As the group were in the midst of their discussion, Adrien couldn’t help but gaze up from the group and glance over down the south hallway to check on Marinette and Alya.  They haven’t decided their plans yet, but wouldn’t doubt that the four of them would relax in one of their apartments until the event started.

When he caught sight of their figures, Adrien noticed that the two were speaking to another three girls, all looking like they were getting along fine.

Until Adrien noticed a group of five boys turning their glances at Marinette and the others.  Just seeing the way those guys were eyeing Marinette and the others made Adrien’s neck bristle.  ‘How dare they stare at Marinette like that!’  The thought growling through Adrien’s head.

Taking notice of Adrien’s behavior, Nino looks at his friend and then follows his gaze until they feel on Alya, Marinette, and some other girls.  Seeing the group of boys heading towards the girls.

In mid conversation, the group of boys gather beside the group of girls and cuts into their conversation.

“Hey, ladies.”  Greeted one of the boys.

All the girls cease their conversation and all turn to look at the group of boys.

“You ladies heading to the casino and dance night tonight?”  Asked one of the other boys.

“As a matter of fact we are.”  Responded Alay, and hint of annoyance on her tongue.

“Then how about you lovely ladies accompany us gents as our dates?”

Alya snorts and chuckles, “Sorry; but some of us are already taken.”

Giving a smirk, one of the boys turns their gaze towards Marinette.  He rests one of his arms against the wall and leans towards Marinette’s space.

From across the hall in the corner, a growl escapes through Adrien’s lips.  Which didn’t escape earshot from Nino.

“Dude, did you seriously just growl?”  Asked Nino.

“Yes.”  Grunted Adrien, his teeth clamping further together tightly.

“Are you jealous?”  Continued Nino.

“No.”  Drawled out Adrien.

“Bro, don’t deny it.”

“Fine.  Though I’m more agitated than anything.  No one gets in my girl’s space.”

“Yet, she’s not your girl.  This is exactly why I told you not to wait and why you should have done it years ago.  I warned you that others would start taking notice.”

The two boys watched at the one boy in front of Marinette rested his other hand on the other side of Marinette.  Leaning slightly closer.  Adrien could see the uncomfortable look on Marinette’s face.  The entire action only drew another growl from Adrien.  ‘Oh hell no!  No man gets into my lady’s personal space!’

“May I make a suggestion?”  Adrien’s attention snaps to the girl beside him, drawing Nino’s attention as well.

Everyone looks at the girl waiting for her to continue.

“If you love that girl so much, you better make your move and show those competitors that your girl is taken and how to treat a lady.”  

The girl gives Adrien a smirk and wink.

Confused at first, everything sinks in as a mischievous grin forms on Adrien’s lips and eyes.  If this was his chance to take risks, Adrien gladly took it.

Rushing off from Nino and the group, Adrien slips through the crowded hallway with ease.  Nino was impressed, it was like his friend was nothing but mist as he glided through the crowds.  He had to say, Nino felt like this was going to be a fascinating moment to witness.

Gaining distance towards Marinette’s location, Adrien calls out, “Marinette.”

Hearing her name and the familiar voice, Marinette shifts under the eyes of the man in from of her and slips pass him as she moves towards the center of the hallway waiting for Adrien to reach her.  Waiting, Marinette kept her gaze on her crush until he stops in front of her, his eyes piercing down to hers.

“A-adrien.”  Asked Marinette dazedly.

Emerald eyes bore on Bluebell as Adrien made his decision without hesitation.  This will demonstrate to those vultures of boys and any other boy that’s witnessing this as Adrien claim’s what’s his.

Raising his hands up, Adrien places his hands on Marinette’s cheeks, rubbing them soothingly while looking deeply into her eyes.  Nothing but love sparkling and glistening through his pupils that he prays she can see too.

Everything moved quickly.  Without any chance of backing out, Adrien raises Marinette’s head up and crashes his lips together with hers.  The warmth of her lips was gratifying as he pressed further and feeling her respond in return.  Feeling victorious, Adrien’s desired word is the only word flowing through his senses.  And it felt oh so good.

‘MINE.’