#tigress x you

[girlkisser13]

artemis crock masterlist

* indicates smut

headcanons

dating artemis crock would include

nsfw headcanons *

imagines

drabbles

[skipppppy]

I’m just throwing things at the wall to get rid of the hyperfixation at this point

[bxttxrflybxddie]

yandere! vile operatives after you've lost your memories

summary: your memories have been wiped after failing a mission. how do some yandere vile operatives handle that?

warnings: yandere, dark content, kidnapping, stalking, suggestive in crackle's, mentions of manipulation, pg-13 content

pairing(s): tigress, crackle, paperstar, mime bomb, carmen sandiego x reader

the cold of the metal chair stings your back. groggily opening your eyes, panic sets in as you feel the rope wrapped and tied around your wrists. you'd inspect where you currently are, but you can't, not with this blonde woman sitting in your lap. tigress' nails are gently caressing your cheek, a loving action but threatening nonetheless. your breath quickens as her lips raise into a smirk. "scream, and you'll regret it..."

"you're so beautiful like this," crackle whispers. "under me." your face flushes, hot with want. the man above you, holding himself up by grabbing fistfuls of sheet, seems completely different than the one you went on a date with today. however, you certainly aren't complaining. little do you know just how carefully the aussie has planned this. how many tiny details and perfect words went into making you his all over again.

her eyes drown you. so full, wide with eager anticipation. your hands tremble as you grab the neatly wrapped box in front of you, trying to ignore poisonous smell. you panic as you try to see if there's a correct way to open the box, hoping to not infuriate her and end up with the same end as your roommate. you open the package carefully, setting the ribbons to the side. dread clouds all of your senses as the human heart stares into your soul. paper star laughs, softly and cute, as if she played a harmless prank. "do you like it?"

"could you do 'trapped in a box'?" and he does, gloved hands staging himself as a pathetic victim who's stuck in nothing. you chuckle either out of genuine humor or pity, you're unsure. your housemate found you after losing everything, from memories to your home. you were so close to giving up but he showed you a kindness you weren't sure was real. the very least you can do is support his miming gig. you're still clueless to the fact that invisible strings are the easiest to pull.

carmen's body heat was perfect for a lullaby. however, your headaches kept you wide awake. you move your girlfriend's curled bangs away from her face and tucked them behind her ear. that action seemed to stir her sleep, which you immediately felt awful for. you whisper a quick sorry and for her to resume her rest. she peers up into your eyes before her own droop back into sleep. "you're too sweet...i'm so glad i didn't have to hurt you..." the shock of her statement lasts longer than it should've. she must be joking, or sleep talking, there's a reasonable explanation. right?

©️ BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[yarart4ever]

“It’s always been you.”

~~~~

I am SO NORMAL about them I PROMISE—

[jalicefanficblog]

saw on ya main blog you wrote for carmen sandiego. a dr. saira bellum x child reader scene please with mind experiments?

I am full into Carmen Sandiego Mood lately and love the Series and its complex Characters. So i wrote a little Oneshot about our beloved Dr. Bellum and a femal child reder (platonic of course!)

Little Lucky Charm

You were one of the few children on Vile Island.

Not created because someone found you, but rather brought into this world through a genetic experiment combined with dark science and the brain experiments of Dr. Saira Bellum.

A creation that should not have existed from an ethical point of view. But when you are born on Vile Island… or created like in your case, such a detail does not count.

The annoying baby phase was skipped and you saw the light of day at the age of 2, fully developed with the vocabulary of a toddler and the emotional ups and downs.

Some might say you are a little spitting image of Saira and Dash Haber. You inherited your 'mother's' bad eyesight and your father's gray hair, your eyes are blue-gray. You have a curious character but your parents taught you early on what behavior and following rules mean. At the age of 3, you are always very proud when you can help your mom with one of her experiments.

You don't understand that these are evil experiments that harm other people. For you, everything your mother does is exciting, much more exciting than the strange things that Aunt Cleo collects or the questions that Uncle Gunnar, asks you while grinning so strangely and writing something down on a pad of paper. Your mom also likes cat videos. Cats are soooo great!

That's why one of your favorite students at the Vile Academy is Tigress. She has a big cat costume and every time you run into her, you call out loudly and for everyone else to hear - big kitten - before you try to hug one of Tigress' legs. Most of the time, however, Tigress uses her acrobatic skills and her speed to get to safety from you. She's not really the person who likes children. But that doesn't bother you - you still like the big kitten. Even if she's not one of your mother's favorite students.

That would be Crackle - also known as Graham - but you don't find him half as nice as Paper Star. One of Uncle Gunnar's favorites. Which of course doesn't mean that you don't have a favorite among the male students at the academy. Even though he doesn't speak and speaks a completely different language, he understood exactly what you wanted to say with your toddler sounds and words, especially in the first few months after you were created. If you had to choose, your very best friend on the entire campus would definitely be Mime Bomb. You like him and he is currently trying to teach you his way of communicating.

You have a rather mixed relationship with your mom's other friends. After all, the last child on the island was Black Sheep - unfortunately, your paths never crossed.

You were created , after Black Sheep left the island. Countess Cleo was not good with children and once refused to look after you for a few hours at your mother's request, because Saira had to go to an international villain meeting in Seattle and the other Vile chairmen were busy and your father was on an outside mission in New Zealand. Luckily, Coach Brunt took on the task and gave you a cupcake. She is like the cool, strong aunt to you. Even if her outbursts of anger sometimes make you seek protection behind Uncle Gunnar. Similar to Cleo, Shadowsan also kept you at a distance and was always strict with you. Perhaps also because he didn't want an incident like the one with Black Sheep to happen again.

"Daddah back soon? Miss Daddah soooo much!" - you spread your arms to make it clear to Dash , in your video call via the tablet how much you miss him. It had been so many nights since you said goodnight to the moon and indirectly to Dash too, of course, and so many listening cd´s , that your mom put on for you to help you sleep while she was still working overtime in her lab and researching new inventions.

Sometimes your father didn't want you to call him that in front of the other Vile members, because it was actually just the DNA that Dash had thrown together with Saira's DNA. But you saw him as your father and didn't care if he would pull a dramatic face when Aunt Cleo made a nasty comment.

"I still have a lot to do. You will be a good girl for Dr. Bellum?" - Dash's answer sounded cold , but there was a spark of compassion in his eyes.

"Good girl, yes! Help Mommy! By by Daddah!”, you wave once into the camera as your father has to end the video call and then run out of your room with the tablet in your hand to your mother , to give the tablet back. Saira was careful not to give you too much screen time.

"There's my lucky charm! Come to Mommy, you can help me and Professor Maelstrom with an important experiment!" - with these words, your mom picked you up and you quickly dropped the tablet onto the sofa , before you automatically wrapped your arms around her neck and were curious about what kind of experiment it was.

You can help? How great! You're a good helper! A good girl to be proud of. Maybe there will be muffins or cupcakes for that later?

You were put down on a table in your mother's lab and Uncle Gunnar came into the room followed by Crackle. Crackle , was told to sit in the chair… it didn't look like a normal chair… not really like your high chair either, which you were less and less keen to get into. Was it a new chair?

“…..it won't happen again…I can get better!”, - said Crackle as the arm straps closed.

“Was Crackle naughty....bad?”, you asked curiously to Uncle Gunnar as your mom approached the now immobilized Crackle with a small device.

Gunnar stood next to you at the edge of the table, partly because you leaned forward curiously and threatened to fall down - he grabbed you and put you down on the floor….the cleaners, had enough to do, they don't have to remove blood stains from a toddler.

“Oh indeed. Crackle broke the rules and now has to face the consequences”, - said Gunnar with a devious undertone.

“Bad Crackle! Don't break rules! Time out,” - you said, making clicking noises with your tongue.

“Oh my little lucky charm, I don’t think our Crackle can make up for this rule breaking with a time out” - your mother laughed, almost in a delusional manner, and then turned to Crackle.

“It won’t hurt, you’ll just be a little dizzy… and then the happy days will follow!”

The next thing you saw was your mom putting the strange device on Crackle’s head, turning it on and then Crackle letting out a few panicked screams , before his body remained sitting on the chair, asleep and without the energy to defend itself. Apparently he had fainted.

Your mom starts to laugh evilly, Uncle Gunnar starts to laugh amusedly, so it must be something good… the evil Crackle has learned that you should follow rules… so you giggle childishly once and clap your hands several times, you adapt to the mood of the adults. Because they know what is right and what is wrong.

“That’s my girl! Just watch careful, then one day you'll be just as wonderful a scientist as your mommy!” - your mother said happily, first putting the strange device away and then picking you up again.

“Your thoughts and brain experiments are getting better . And Crackle won't remember anything?”, said Gunnar as the two were on their way to the meeting room, where the other chairmen of Vile were already waiting for them. You had now rested your head tiredly on your mother's right shoulder and your eyes half closed, you would soon be asleep.

“I guarantee that Crackle won't remember anything , that has to do with us, the island or Vile… but I will never forget my boy,” said your mom.

Half asleep, you pat your mom's left hand and the glove.

“My mommy! Me mommy's favorite”

Uncle Gunnar's amused laughter penetrates your ears like cotton wool as you get increasingly tired.

But you hear your mom's answer and loving words very clearly before you slip into a gentle sleep.

"Of course you are mommy's favorite, my favorite girl…my favorite lucky charm. Forever"

THE END

[paristheonewhoreads]

Cowboy and the Tigress

Chapter Four ☁️🌷8k words

Warnings: none beside that closeup of Ellie’s bite mark 🙅🏻‍♀️😭🙈 jk. Childbirth, but nothing detailed or specified. Cursing/foul language. That’s it? Enjoy 😋🤭

Previous Chapter Series master list Main master list

Spring, 2023, Boston QZ

Your legs burn from the running you’ve been forced to endure for sake of survival. Sweat has built up all along your forehead and nape of your neck as hairs clings to it. You try to keep your breathing steady as you spring and swerve past trees, leaves crunching bellow your hevey footsteps. As you reach a clearing you see an old, once white and probably beautiful two story home in the near distance.

Footsteps behind you, though not as fast but with just the much urgency of escaping what follows make their way towards you. You turn to face the woman who could as well be your mother. She’s clutching her swollen belly, heaving, panting. Hear yellow dress with flowers all over is dirty, the jacket she wears seeming to only add heat to her already sweltering body, sweat apparent all along her face and chest, face red from the warmth and adrenaline.

“I see a house, come on we’re close we can hide there.” You tell her, hurriedly making your way to her and grabbing the arm that isn’t clutching her belly and hoisting it over your shoulder in offered support as you try to help her walk faster towards the building.

She grunts in pain as she hunches over, hand slightly gripping at her stomach, trying to control her breathing. “God if this kid doesn’t have the worst timing-“ another grunt.

“You can scold her later when she’s here. Come on just a little further we have to hurry. I don’t know how far back it is.” Clutching the gun she’d given you in your other hand you start to walk forward, practically dragging the soon to be mother along with you.

Her fatigue is evident in her voice as she speaks, “you still think it’s a-“ her body shudders as she groans once more.

Contractions are getting closer together.

“A girl?” She exhales as she talks. You don’t answer her more worried about walking up the porch before bursting through the door. You lead her towards the stairs, “Okay just hold onto the railing.” you say as you look around the vacant house and spot a small cabinet and push it in front of the door.

A growl from a near distance makes you halt your actions as you look through the side window by the door. It’s charging at the house full speed, snarling and practically salivating as it get closer and closer.

“Shit.” You say breathlessly as you push the cabinet fully in front of the door. You don’t waste a second as you make your way over to Anna, once again hoisting her arm around you and quickly trying to make your way up the stairs.

Once you’ve made it up the stairs you quickly turn to an empty room, “in here come on, you’re going to be fine in here just a little more.” You try to comfort her as her body starts to push.

Taking her to the far end of the room you slowly set her down. Rushing over to the door to close that too. There’s silence for a moment, before Anna starts to grunt and groan in pain.

You look towards her and run back to her side, kneeling down beside her as you reach for her hand. She takes it and involuntarily squeezes hard as another contraction course through her.

Worried you ask, “What do I do? Is there anything I can do? I don’t know-“ she cuts you off “shhh it’s okay, I’m okay, she’s just here a little earlier than I would have hoped.” her voice is fragile and nearly above a whisper as she caresses your face with her clammy hand, smiling softly.

“The baby’s coming, I can’t protect you and her at the same time, so this what we’re going to do okay?” you nod frantically “Atta girl. Okay, your going to take the gun I gave you and whatever tries to get in here you shoot it okay? Just like I showed you.” she cries out as a hard contraction tells her it’s time. You cringe slightly at the sound of her pain.

“Okay I’m going to start pushing okay? You just keep your eyes on the door baby okay?” Her speech, labored. “Okay.” Is all you say as you grab the gun tightly, taking off the safety just as she’d taught you.

Anna starts to push, pained sounds leaving her as she tries to control her breathing. You both hear a pounding at the door downstairs. It doesn’t stop, not for a second, the screeching growing angrier and louder as it continuously tries to break down the door.

Anna can’t control the noise she makes as she starts to feel herself open up slightly. She reaches down, feels the babies head as she continues to heave breaths. There’s a huge crash downstairs as both door and cabinet hit the ground with a bang.

You flinch as you hear it, and turn to Anna with worry in your eyes. Your scared. You don’t say it. You doubt you need to. And Anna knows, but comfort isn’t something she can provide right now. “Just focus on the door.” Is all she can manage to say as she pushes again, a groan coming from her.

Heavy, manic stomping comes up the stairs, footsteps reaching the door within seconds. Anna’s anything but quiet as she grunts again, pushing.

You both hear the snarls from the monster only a door away. It starts to claw and screech at the door. You start to cry silently, tears streaming down your face, hands holding the gun beginning to shake.

Anna starts to giving you instructions, “don’t take your eyes of the door, you keep your eyes on the door. The second the door falls you press down on the trigger okay? You press down, and you shoot.” She says, on the brink of exhaustion, voice deprived of any energy.

The hinges on the door start to rattle with each forceful bang, one by on they start to detach from the wall. As the door falls you scream as the monster immediately dashes towards the both of you. Springing on all fours as it reaches Anna. She screams as she puts her arms up in order to keep it away.

You panick as it lunges at her, it tries its best to bite her. Snapping its mouth at her. There’s a struggle for only a second before she gives it a hash shove and as it hits the ground you aim the gun at it pull the trigger. A loud shot echoes through the desolate house. You can hear the gurgled sounds the monster makes as it twitches a couple of times before going completely still.

You let out a fast breath, relief filling your entire body. Suddenly there’s a cry. It’s not yours. It’s not Anna’s. You look away from the body of the monster and towards the loud cry.

A baby lies there, letting out the loudest cry you’ve ever heard. The cry of life.

You sit there in shock. Watching as they squirm around on the floor, crying their little heart out. Anna grunts in pain as she looks down at her baby.

You look from the child to her and smile, “you did it. You did it your a mom!” You begin to tell her. The feeling of relief is very short lived, as she grips onto her thigh.

“Oh shit.” She whispers. You furrow your brows at her and look at what she is. There, on her thigh, a bite mark.

Before you can say anything Anna is quick to grab her switch blade, flicking it open and hastily cutting the umbilical cord. The baby doesn’t stop crying as she picks her up. She smiles at her, she’s perfect.

Ten little toes. Ten little fingers. And all mighty scream. “You were right,” she laughs breathlessly, “she’s a girl.” Looking to you, smiling as best she can. You can see the pain behind her eyes, and you know it’s not just from the childbirth.

“What’s her name?” you ask softly, scooting closer to her. She smiles once more diverting her gaze from you to her baby girl, she assess her, looking at her eyes, pudgy nose, little feet kicking softly as she’s still crying.

She kisses her forehead, bringing her up to rest against her chest, safe.

“Ellie.” She looks to you again, “Her names Ellie.”

Ellie lets out a cry again as Anna tries to lul her to sleep. “Yeah. You fucking tell them Ellie.” Her smile never leaving her face as she rocked her slowly in her arms. For the first, and last time.

Marlene walks you down a couple of hallways till you reach one that has no other doors besides one at the end. “You had my kid here while you were running a fucking trade? What the hells wrong with you?” You snap at her, getting herself shot and on the verge of death is on her and by all means not as important as potentially getting Ellie hurt or worse, killed.

“Would you relax? Christ, you’re worst than Ann-“ “don’t.” You snap before she can finish the name, glaring at her. She clamps her mouth shut, sighs, and opens the door.

You look at the door and then her. Skeptically, the door opens with it’s eerie creek as she pushes it open all the way. She walks in first, and you instinctively place your hand over the gun in the waistband of your jeans. .

It’s dark inside, and seemingly empty. As you go to take a step back marline speaks up in infront of you.

“Cmon out kid. She’s here.” She calls out into the dark room

The fact that whoever could potentially be in this room could be Ellie sinks in faster. You’d been skeptical at first, when Marlene had told you she’d had her. Being here now is a different story. But before you can do anything else Ellie slowly emerges from the darkness, a sound rattling behind her as she steps closer to the both of you.

They have her in fucking chains.

She doesn’t look hurt, at least not physically. But her being chained to the wall has you practically seeing red. They have her- a child chained up like some fucking wild animal. Your hands tense into fists, and your jaw clenches so tight you can hear your teeth grind against one another.

You don’t think twice as the hand on your gun behind you, pulls it out immediately. Aiming it at Marline. She immediately puts her hands up.

“The hell is this some sort of fucking joke?” Your voice booms through the rest of the house, you clearly sounding furious. “Uncuff her.” you grit out.

“I can't do that.” she shakes her head

You're not asking.

“I said,” You remove the safety from your gun. “Uncuff her.” your tone dead serious.

“I can’t,” she persists, and looks over to Ellie, “show her.” She nods in encouragement. Your brows furrow at this.

Still pointing your gun at her you glance at Ellie, shifting your weight slightly. She’s nervous as she picks at the skin around her fingernails. “M-mom,” she starts, “Put the gun down. She hasn’t hurt me I swear,” another pause as she looks from you to Marlene, “she actually kind of saved me.”

With a perplexed look, you turn your attention back to the woman, gun still aimed at her. Ellie doesn’t look like she’s been mistreated, aside from needing a shower and some food, she seems okay. You contemplate it, seeing as you don’t want her to see more violence than she probably has already, and especially not from you. There’s a beat, and you lower the gun, but don’t put it back in your waistband.

At hearing Ellie address you as ‘mom’ Marlene is thrown off. She knew you’d raised her, hell maybe even thought of her as a little sister. But it still disorients her in a way to hear her say that. She’d referred to Ellie as ‘your kid’ when trying to convince you to come with her, yes. But she hadn’t known your relationship with her ran as deep as being given the title of mother, much less to a kid who wasn’t yours.

“Show me what?” You ask Ellie, “Are you hurt? Did she—“ but Ellie immediately starts to shake her head “No-no. She hasn’t don’t anything to me. The chains are a..um, a precaution, I guess” she shrugs her last sentence.

Still not understanding, you look back to Marlene “you cuff a kid to the wall for precaution? The hell is wrong with you?” anger still seething through your body.

“Trust me you’ll understand once you see the reason why.” turning to Ellie she gives her a nod, encouraging her to show you whatever the hell is such a good reason to have her chained up.

Ellie shifts in place, seemingly building up the courage to before she speaks, “don’t be mad. I know you’re going to want to be, just listen before anything.” She tells you, anxiousness lacing every word she utters.

And before you can say anything, before you can assure her that you won’t get mad, she pulls at the long sleeve shirt she’s wearing on her right arm.

You feel the floor give out beneath you as you stumble back slightly. As your heart stops for a millisecond before rapidly beating. A hand flying into your mouth as you gasp.

Right there, on her arm.

A bite mark .The skin around it is red and angry, her veins looking more blue and green than they normally would.

“Oh god- oh god no.” Your voice, brittle. You immediately stumble forwards, grabbing her arm and pulling it closer towards your face. You shake your head in disbelief. You run your fingers over the mark, lightly brushing the tips over it, but instantly yanking your hand back as you hear Ellie hiss in pain, flinching and tugging her hand back in response.

There are tears building in your eyes. You’d failed. You’d failed her. You’d failed her mother, broken the promise you’d sworn to keep as she lay dying. All for letting yourself care more about some stupid supplies getting stolen.

Pulling her into a hug, you squeeze her tight as you pet her hair with a shaky hand “I’m so sorry,” You sob out into her hair, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you baby.” This could be the last time you ever hold her, the last time you see her look up at you, the last time you feel her warmth. There was no fixing this. There was no going back.

Ellie’s crying too as she hugs you back, not for the same reason you are. She’s overwhelmed, the tears she’s refused to let out for the past 5 days all of a sudden making an appearance.

She sniffles, as she buries her head into your chest, her arms pulling you in just as tight as yours pull at her. Quiet, soft, sobs leaving you as you take in her not so little form.

“She was bit five days ago. I found her at the mall five miles north from here. I didn’t know who she was at first.” Marlene says from behind you.

Your eyes brows furrow as you slowly loosen your arms around Ellie, pulling back too see her face, “five days?” You ask, she would have turned within the first 24 hours of being bit. “Shouldn’t she have-“

“Turned?” Marlene finishes, “yeah, she should have. That’s why I’ve had her chained, just in case. But she’s been completely fine, I’ve been monitoring her for days and she hasn’t twitched once.” She states.

The lines on your forehead disappear as you realize that what Ellie has experienced isn’t just some miracle sent from the universe. And that of all people Marlene is the one to have witnessed it first hand.

Ellie nods, “it happened the day you left, me and Riley—we–we snuck out after Hank had gone to sleep. We didn’t know the mall would have any infected there. We just though—“

“You just thought that what–,” you raise your voice “that you could just go out there without there being any dangers?” Ellie’s gaze drops to the floor, silent tears trickling down her face and onto the floor by her feet.

Regretting snapping at her you hug her again, sighing, “it’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore. You're here and you're alive. That’s all that matters. You’re safe now okay?” You pull back, cupping her face with both hands and wiping her tears with your thumps.

She shakes her head, every tear you wipe away replaced with a new one, “Riley didn’t make it.” She cries out a sob as she speaks. Your heart sinks, she watched her best friend die.

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, hugging her again. She’s fully crying now, sobs, tears, and sniffles. Though their muffled by the fabrics of your shirt they don’t go unheard by neither you or Marlene.

“Shhhh shhhh it’s okay baby. You’re okay. Let it out. I’m so sorry,” you whisper trying to calm her down. You console her by whispering words of reassurance to her and she eventually calms down as she pulls back, wiping her runny nose and tear wet face.

You offer her a small, weak smile as you turn to Marlene. You need to get Ellie out of here. Dismiss whatever ideas Marlene has about the situation.

“Thank you,” are the first words you say, “I’ll take her home now.” Moving to uncuff her you see it’s locked “the key?” You ask her. Marlene has a look on her face that tells you she’s not willing to let this go so soon.

“Actually,” she starts “there’s something I’d like to talk to you about. Concerning Ellie,” she pauses “and you.” Your heart beats faster as she says this. The sooner you get this over with the better. You think to yourself.

You nod, “uncuff her, she would have turned by now there’s no need for them, then we can talk.” She asserts you for a second looking you up and down before nodding slowly.

She uncrosses her arms and limps her way towards Ellie pulling out a small set of keys from her back pocket before finding the right one and unlocking both cuffs. They fall to the floor with a clash and Ellie immediately rubs at her wrists, probably feeling much lighter.

“Here” she says getting what looks like Ellie’s backpack from across the room, and handing it to her. Ellie immediately starts to rummage through her pack as Marlene makes her way towards the door.

You hug Ellie again, though this time you whisper into her ear quietly “Did you bring your knife?” You ask, she nods “good. Get it and when I call your name, you open the door and run, do you understand me?” She furrows her brows and opens her mouth to speak before you’re interrupting her again, “Do as I say. No questions. We’ll talk after okay?” you lift your brows to ask for confirmation she understands, “okay” is all she says before continuing to rummage through her bag once more.

You follow Marlene out into the hallway, closing the door to the room behind you. You make your way to her, leaving a couple feet of space between you both and cross your arms. “What did you want to talk about?” You speak first, “Ellie.” Is all she says. Your brows furrow “Ellie’s fine isn’t she?” You give a small dismissive shrug, “I think we both know what in specific I want to talk about Ellie.”

Your palms are sweating against the material of your jacket, “Don’t know what for. She got bit. Didn’t turn, she got lucky.” you try to brush off, “lucky? I think what happened to her is damn near a miracle.” Marlene steps closer, this has you standing up taller, standing your ground.

“A miracle? Christ, what is she? The next baby Jesus?” You give a soft humorless laugh, shaking your head softly, “Listen I appreciate what you did for her I really do. But you saving her does not grant you entry into her life again.” Your tone is stern.

“I’m not asking to be let in her life again. I know that’s not my place anymore” She pauses “but, I also know, that what I’ve witnessed from Ellie is extraordinary. No human for the past two decades has ever been recorded to be able to last more than 24 hours after being exposed to the virus.” She states before she continues “I have people cross country, scientists–real scientists. They could try and figure out how it’s possible she hasn’t turned yet. How her body is able to fight off the virus,maybe even make a vaccine-.” She doesn’t finish her point

You interrupt, “You don’t know that. There are probably others just like her. Besides, Ellie’s not equipped to go out there, much less across country, and everyone knows vaccines don’t work against this thing.” You dismiss all her points with your own statement, “just let this go Marlene.” You try to reason.

Sighing, “You know, I remember you being stubborn. But now you’re just starting to be a pain in the ass.” she sounds almost like she’s missed that about you.

“Not like you stuck around long enough to get to know me. Either of us.” You bite.

Her face becomes stagnant, the light look she’d had vanishing as she straightens up at your jab as if what you’d said was a needle to her heart. “You're right. I didn't. I didn't stick around because I was a coward. I had a job to do that still isn’t finished. I also knew that letting you go would be me giving you your best chance.” The last part of what she says has your heart clenching.

Your best chance. A voice rings in your head.

“And now I'm asking you to give Ellie her best chance.”

You shake your head at that. She can't possibly believe you'd just hand Ellie to her for the sake of a better chance. “Like hell you’re taking her away from her life here to go out there and end up dead. She’s a kid, she has no business seeing what’s out there. The stories she’s heard about what’s outside the walls and what’s just happened to her are plenty.”

Impatiently now Marlene clenches her jaw and starts to raise her voice, “No what she is, is a cure. She could be the solution to everything. If my guys could just take some tests, they could find a way to make a cure. A cure dammit! She could save billions of lives. Bring back the world to what it used to be. Give humanity another shot.” She pauses “don’t you want that?” Her voice softens.

You don’t let up however, “She’s a fourteen year old girl. She’s not some damn lab rat for you to run god knows what kinds of fucking tests. And she sure as hell doesn’t owe the world a goddamn fucking thing. You’re not taking her away from her home no matter what excuse you give me. I’ve given up too much and sacrificed enough so that she has a safe and comfortable life here-“

“Comfortable?” She scoffs “Is that what you call it?”she steps closer to you, less than a five away. “Her getting into fights every other day of the week, going home bruised up? Home to where you leave for weeks on end just to be able and support yourself and her? Risking the chance of you getting killed and leaving her with nothing. No one.”

“And really? Safe? Huh?,” she moks “Safe living in that apartment you have that’s crawling with murders you’ve hired just to call it protection?”.

She wants to act so much better than you when her whole ‘hope for humanity’ posse is nothing but a group of delusional idiots with guns.

You’re the one raising your voice now, louder than hers “Hey I do what I have to to make sure she’s safe! To make sure she has at least a shrivel of fucking normality in this piece of shit world!” you don't care that your yelling, to hell with this fucking conversation.

She scoffs out a laugh “Yeah and you’re doing a great job at that.” Her sarcasm is enough to make your blood boil more.

“Yeah, you know I am. Everything she has is because of me.” You seethe, “She has a roof over her head because of me. She has a warm bed because of me.” taking a step forward towards her with each point you make. “She has food on the table every day because of me. She has an education because of me, clothes because of me. She’s alive because of me. No thanks to you, because you abandoned her! You made a promise that you couldn’t keep and if it weren’t for the one I made she’d be dead or god knows where.” now standing right in front of her, leaving no room for air.

Getting in her face, “So you don’t get to waltz in here and decide what you want to do with her now that the hard part is done and she’s all raised up for you. I have changed every diaper, soothed every fever, every scraped knee, and endured every tantrum. She’s nothing to you anymore.”

You shove past her and go to open the door, ready to get Ellie and get the hell out of here. You’ve had enough of Marlene in this one hour to last you another fourteen years without seeing her.

“You’re not her mother.” She calls out, back still turned to you

Your fingers brush the doorknob as you halt, tilting your head to look at her over your shoulder.

“You might have raised her. Sure. But you are not her mother and she is not your daughter. You-“

With your jaw clenched and fist balled up “No!.” Your voice booms “You don’t to speak. You don’t get to do anything. You gave up that right when you tossed her away.” You turn to face her again.

“You're right, Im not her mother. But I’m the closest damn thing she has to one. The only piece of fucking family she has left. I may not have birthed her but she’s nobody’s but mine. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone—especially you try and take her away from me.” Your voice is heavy with promise.

Marlene is, for the lack of better words, speechless. She’s taken aback by your hostility, treading carefully as she persists again.

“Say you decide not to take her. What then? Someone will see the scar, and when they do, they won’t think twice before killing her. That bite to the rest of the world marks her as good as dead.”

“Thats none of your concern” you bite back.

“No it isn't. It’s yours. I can accept that and the fact that what happens to her is your choice. She’s nothing to me, you’re right. She’s not my responsibility. Far from it. But I know you aren’t stupid enough to think you'll be able to keep this a secret forever.”

“I’ll deal with it.” you dismiss, turning back towards the door.

“Nothing you do is guaranteed to work.” She stresses., taking small steps to follow as she tries to persuade you. “Listen if you do this for me-if you do this for her, you can build a life outside of this QZ. You’d both be free, no need to be sucking up to some fedra assholes or needing to risk your life to smuggle whatever crap it is you sell for rations.”

That last part has you stoped dead in your tracks. You look back to her, trying to see if whether or not she’s just pulling things out of her ass to try and convince you. You call her bluff.

“The hell are you talking about? You know there isn’t a damn place out there that’s safe.”

“I’ve got a friend. He went out west to get away, started a small settlement. I’m not exactly sure where, I haven’t spoken with him in a couple of years, but if you go with that man and take Ellie with you we can use the radio to get you both there.”

“You’re offering me a deal that you aren’t even sure you can make?” You say pointly.

You look at her skeptically. If what she’s saying has even the slightest bit of truth to it, you can’t help but consider the possibility of Ellie having a genuinely healthy environment. One where she could go to a real school, make actual friends, not have to hear people getting shot on the street, just because they were out past dark.

As far as you’ve heard there have been attempts outside of QZ’s to re-establish communities in the name of the old world. You’ve also heard that they don’t tend to last very long. Often get overrun, sick, or starve to death.

“all they need is blood to run a few tests and figure out why her body doesn’t react to the cordeycepts. Once they have what they need, I can get you a ride to wherever the settlement is along with supplies to get both of you there.” Sounding confident in the fact she can actually make it happen.

There’s silence as you think this over long and hard. There are so many things that could go wrong, but there are so many things that could go right for both you and Ellie.

“we don’t have much time. I need an answer sooner rather than later. I still got to pull some strings to try and make this happen. If it does then we’d need to get you both out of the QZ tonight so that we can get to the capital by morning and from there head towards the lab.”

You breath in and sigh as you try to think clearly about the offer, “I’ll have to think it through. This decision isn’t just mine to make, I’ll have to talk to Ellie about it, make sure shes willing to go through with this.”

You pause, and walk close enough to her where only she can hear you, “If she says yes, I go with her every step of the way and we get whatever supplies Ellie and I need to get her there.”

She gives you a stiff nod “I can do that.”

You turn your head to her completely, volume in your voice returning “And then after all this bullshit is over. We go our separate ways and you don't contact me or her again. We clear?” brows raised in question.

She doesn't say anything for a moment, her gaze dancing from one of your eyes to the other, before she gives a single nod. “Crystal.”

Not another word is spoken between you as you make your way back into the room to get Ellie. There’s a long conversation waiting for her.

As you finally push the door open you see Ellie quickly sitting down looking at her shoes. Your demeanor with her is of stark contrast with the one you’d had with Marlene just seconds ago.

You sigh, closing the door behind you and leaning against it. “How much of that did you hear?” You ask voice calm. “Just the part where you too were arguing.” you let out a huff through your nose, “you heard the whole thing?” She nods.

Giving her a half smile you make your way towards her, sitting criss cross in front of her, “Then you heard the part where they want to run some, tests on you?” You tilt your head, trying to catch her gaze as she’s looking down at her shoes.

She grants you her line of sight, “you mean the experiments? Yeah, I heard.” Her words sounding bitter as she picks at a loose thread from her shoe. You frown at her tone, “You sound disappointed Ellie bean.” She looks up at hearing her nickname.

“I’m not,” you lean your head forward, nudging her to explain, she sighs “it’s just that-if I did do this, if we did go, we could safe so many people. If I’d found this out sooner there’s a chance Riley could have been-“ but you interrupt her, “hey hey hey,” you frown again reaching a hand out to cup her face, “you couldn’t have been able to save her Ellie. I know that hurts to hear, but it’s the truth. There’s nothing you could’ve done. Don’t blame yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

Her bottom lip quivers slightly as tears build in her eyes but she blinks them away and takes a deep breath. Sighing, “yeah, I know.”. Leaning back, you just stare at her for a moment, taking her in.

An hour ago you’d thought you’d lost her. You’d thought you’d failed. Not just her, but her mother. Anna had took you in after your parents died. And in exchange for her sacrifice you’d taken her daughter and raised her. It was something that you just couldn’t run the risk of failing.

Was this really a life? Her being in fedra school, getting an education that wouldn’t get her anywhere other than a battlefield to be a soldier. Her coming into your room at night because that was she wouldn’t be able to here someone getting beat to death outside her window.

“What else did you hear?” you ask softly “how apparently you too know each other, and how she knows me too.” nodding softly,”yeah we knew each other a long time ago,” a pause “she knew your mother too.” Her eyes dart up at you. You don’t talk about her birth mother a lot. Though that’s never stopped you from answering any questions she may have about her.

“Marlene had promised your mother that if anything were to happen to her she’d take care of you, and me. Obviously she didn’t keep it. I suppose I just…never forgave her for it.”

Ellie stares at you for a while taking in what you’ve said. She knows you’re past is a very sensitive topic and that’s lead her to not ask too much about it, but every time you give her something new, she’s always grasping at the fact that you’d truly given up so much.

“Is it true what she said? That I could be a cure? That after we could find somewhere else?” there’s hope in her voice as she asks you all her questions.

“I don’t know. There is a chance you could have something in that scrawny body of yours that has somehow made you a super mutant.” You tease

“Hey I’m serious.” She laughs and gives you a playful smack on the knee, you smile at her laugh

You both settle after a couple seconds. Biting your lip as you ask, “If I were to agree to her offer. How would you feel about it?” She looks at you and you can see the little wheels in her head turning as she thinks “If we do this you’d be with me the whole way. So I know I’d be safe. And then once we finish she can take us to a place where we can live way fucking better than here. I wouldn’t mind it. I know we could both use a change of scenery.”

Her answer has you cracking a smile, “it’s very dangerous out there. If we do this I need you to promise me you will listen to ever work I say. No sneaking away, no going too far that I can’t see you, and staying put when I tell you to.” Ellie nods “I promise.” She vows

“So we’re really doing this?”

“We are really doing this.”

Once Ellie is has packed up and ready, you both stand up and quietly make your way towards the door. You’re the first to hear muffled voices coming from the other side. Holding a hand out to stop Ellie, holding a finger to your lips to tell her to be quiet.

You press and ear to the door, trying to listen to what they’re saying. You hear four different voices, once of which is Marlene. The door however, does a pretty good job at muffling the sounds. So much so that you have to strain your hearing in order to make out parts of what they’re saying.

Seeing as you can’t hear or understand much, you look back to Ellie and notice a door at the far left corner of the room. You walk to it and realize it’s a door leading to the next room over. You quietly drag Ellie into it and crouch you both down, “okay, I’m going to go out there and I want you to stay here no matter what. Once I call for you we can go home. Okay?” you whisper to her hurriedly, but she relents “what?! No! I’m coming with you. You need someone to watch your back.” you hush her harshly at her raised tone of voice, “no what need, is for you to stay here until I call for you. I’ll be fine, Marlene is out there too. Just stay here okay?”

She sighs, “fine.” She agrees. “Atta girl, I’ll call you out and then we can go.” You smile softly before getting up and closing the door behind you. Now back at the main room you were in you once again lean up against the door in an attempt to hear what they’re saying.

With no luck you decide to wait a moment, before you’re yanking the door open and busting out into the hallway, gun drawn. You’ve managed to somehow end up behind the small crowd of people.

Marlene along with another woman stand side by side, a woman you assume to be a friend. Then there are two there’s, a woman, and a man. Though they don’t seem at all friendly. They both turn to you and the man points his gun at you, the woman perplexed on whether to point it at you or Marlene.

You point your gun at the woman, the man beside her burns holes into you with his gaze, his gun firmly on you. “Don’t shoot.” Marlene, ever the savior, comes to your rescue.

“You know this girl?” The woman asks “Tell her to put the gun down.” She says. Marlene calls your name, “lower the gun.” you don’t comply so easily, “them first.”

Marlene makes an annoyed sound “Jesus Christ,” she says you name again, “lower. The gun.” You clench your jaw, before slowly lowering your weapon. The woman does too, but the man hesitates. Before anyone can do anything, the door next to him swings open and Ellie jumps at him, knife in hand.

He counters her attack, grabbing the wrist holding the blade and all but throwing her at the wall opposite of them. The blade clatters on the ground as he points the gun at Ellie.

Instinctively you point the gun at him, the woman pointing it at you, and Marlene and her friend pointing it at both of them.

“Not at her. Point it at me.” She tells the man, but he doesn’t move. You clock your gun, “don’t.” The woman warns you, though you pay her no mind. “Joel.” Marlene calls out to him. So, that’s his name.

Joel looks to Marlene and then points his gun at her instead. At that your shoulder loose a bit of visible tension as you lower your gun again. Everyone else but Joel seem to do so.

“So this is who Robert screwed us over with. The Che Guevara of Boston? And her..what? Sidekick? I mean, war must be going pretty shitty if you’re buying from scumbags like him.” The woman notes.

“Seems that way.” You chime in.

“Yeah it kind of has been. The merch was bad, and he obviously didn’t take “fuck off” for an answer.” Marlene answers her.

Ellie looks at her knife on the floor, under the Joel’s boot, “give me my knife.” She demands from him, though he doesn’t so much as acknowledge her as he addresses Marlene. “What do you need a car battery for?” His voice is rough and low.

Ellie reaches for her knife, but Joel doesn’t take too lightly to it. He points his gun at her again. “Lower the gun or I blow your head off.” You threaten. The woman beside him scoffs out a sarcastic laugh, “don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the odds of you winning are low. It’s two to one.”

“I happen to like those odds.” You sass

“Christ,” Marlene groans “will everyone just calm down. Nobody is blowing any body’s head off.” she directs her last statement towards you. “That is yet to be determined.” You bite.

“Joel,” Marlene scolds “not at her.” She says. He hesitates for a second, before pointing it at the ground. The woman next to him glances over and she too lowers it.

Only then do you lower yours. “And to answer your question I need it for a better reason than you do. No offense but Tommy’s just one man. It’s our business to know things.” Marlene replies.

“To know things? You’re the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me.” This guy sounds like the fucking terminator. You think to yourself.

“Okay Joel,” Marlene sound exasperated. Her friend then speaks “that was a lot of gunfire, FEDRA will be on their way.”

“Yeah I know” she replies

There’s a short pause in the room before Marlene’s talking again, “We were going to move Ellie out of the zone tonight. But we won’t make it anywhere like this. At least not for a while. So now I’m thinking…you’re gonna do it.” She says to the two strangers.

“Absolutely not.”

“Like hell we are.”

“I’m not going with them!” Ellie, Joel and you all speak at once.

“Tess,” Joel calls the women beside him, “we don’t have time for this.”

“Oh you don’t have time?” Marlene argues

“Who is she?” Tess, asks.

“To you? She’s cargo. They both are.”

“We don’t smuggle people. Sorry.” Joel retorts.

“I can take her. I have my own crew.” You chime in but Marlene shakes her head, “No. We need this done on the low, and quickly. We don’t have time to wait for your people to come down here. It has to be tonight.”

Letting out a breath Marlene continues, “There’s a team of fireflies waiting for them at the old State House.” At that Joel scoffs.

“I know what’s out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason. But now I don’t have a truck. I don’t have a squadron. FEDRA is five minutes away. What I do have is you. And I know what you’re both capable of. For better or worse.”

There’s silence for a moment.

Ellie is the one to break it first, “what are they capable of.” Her voice sounds small. You give her a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and she looks up at you. You smile softly.

“You get them there safely, they’ll give you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole thing. Fueled-up truck, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear.” She promises.

You may not be running a group of assassins, but even you know that what she’s offering to these people is too good a deal.

She’s desperate, and she’s not exactly hiding it.

Joel and Tess both huddle in the corner and you move towards Marlene. “I don’t like this Marlene.” You warn “yeah neither do I. But they’re good at what they do.” “And what exactly do they do.” She sighs, “they’re smugglers. The best this side of boston. They can get in and out fast and they’ll have you at the state house by dawn.”

She looks past you to the couple behind you, “y’all talk it out but please remember that I’m bleeding out.” She groans. You glance at her wound, and it’s worst than it was a couple minutes ago.

“Okay. Here the deal.” Tess starts “Well get her to the State House. But before we hand her over, they give us everything that we want. If not, we kill them, then and there.”

you open your mouth to say a witty reply but Marlene beats you too it.

“Deal.”

“Are you serious?”

“Really? That easy?” You and Ellie say.

She looks to you, “You and Ellie are all that matter. My team will not jeopardize that. Remember what I told you?” you nod, “I plan to keep my promise this time. But I can’t do that if you don’t cooperate.”.

You breath in and out, nodding. Turning to Ellie, “Ellie, go get your pack.” She doesn’t move right away, “Now. Come on, go.” You tell her.

She huffs and walks into the room she lunged out of. While she’s gone you turn back to Marlene.

“When I see you again-“ “If you see me again.” She counters groaning softly as she applies pressure to her would. “When, I see you again,” you correct her “you and me are going to have a field day.”.

She laughs through her nose, and gives you a small smile before nodding, “can’t wait.”

Once Ellie returns Tess speaks up, “let’s go.” You nudge Ellie to move forward picking up her knife as she passes and you follow close behind the two. As you pass Joel this time it’s you who roughly shoves his shoulder with yours.

He looks back at you as you walk down the hall. “Joel.” Marlene calls out to him. He turns back, “don’t fuck this up. Please.” He doesn’t say a word as he turns, and walks the way you all went.

As you all make it out of the building it’s poising outside. You shrug off your leather jacket and use it as an umbrella as you all walk down the street. Once you’ve made it to an old shabby apartment building you follow them inside as Tess leads you down a couple of hallways, Joel in front of Ellie, and Ellie in front of you.

You make it to a door and Tess pulls out her keys to open it. She walks inside and hold the door open, Joel letting Ellie go first. You meet his gaze for a moment as it’s your turn to go inside, but break it once you head in.

“Give us a minute.” Tess says before closing the door behind her as she walks out.

“What the fuck?!” Ellie yells before the door slams shut.

“Ellie, just relax okay? They need us alive to get whatever it is their greedy hands want.” You say as you glance around the room.

You see a vacant armchair in the corner and decide to take a seat. You’d have to make a quick run in a little in order to get some extra supplies from your apartment.

Ellie begins to looks around, mindlessly touching things. “Don’t break anything.” You warn her.

She finds a book and starts looking through it. The two outside can be heard discussing on the other side of the door.

“Whoa look. Smuggle codes, but with music. That’s actually so smart.” She says, “yeah well, people are usually geniuses when it comes to finding ways to do things they shouldn’t.” you tell her.

Joel all of a sudden comes barging in, making you straighten up in the chair you’re sitting in. He drops his pack by the old couch they have and takes a seat.

“So, who’s Bill and Frank?” Ellie asks him. He looks from her to you then to her again, before noticing she has his book in her hands. “The radio’s a smuggling code, right? ‘60s song, they don’t anything new, ‘70s they got new stuff. What ‘80s?”

Joel’s clearly annoyed at the fact she’s reading through his stuff and gets up to snatch the book out of her hand and dump it on the table. He walks back to the couch and lays down, stretching his legs out.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asks. You smirk at the audible annoyance in Joel’s voice as he responds, “killing time.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“I am sure you will figure that out.”

You take his obvious request at being left alone as time to speak up, “Ellie, come on,” you pay the chair beside you, “try not to annoy the old man to death. I’m sure he holds his survival for this long in high regards. Wouldn’t want to smush his ego by taking him out so easily.” You joke with her.

From where Joel is laying down he shoots a glare at you, and the smug smile you have on your face only grows. You nod your head towards the chair you’d patted and Ellie obliges, not before picking the book she’d been looking at again, walking past him, “your watch is broken.” Is all she says as she plops down beside you.

Thirty minutes pass and eventually you head a snore coming from the man on the sofa. You take this as your chance to head out. “Ellie, I’m going to head back to the apartment here, get any extra supplies we might need. You want anything from your room?”

“What? Your leaving?” Her voice sounds anxious and worried, you immediately reassure her, “hey, hey, it’s alright. I’ll come back within the hour. Promise. I just need to get my pack and anything else we’ll need.”

That seems to calm her down slightly, “um..okay. Yeah, some extra clothes? And underwear. Oh! And socks. Mine are soaked.” She lists off, you nod before giving her a kiss on the forehead reminding her that you’ll be back soon, and to not annoy the man.

Once you make it to your apartment you hurry to collect everything you might need. Flashlights, clothes, undergarments, makeshift first aid kit, amo, another gun, a knife, some caned food, and change into something warmer once you’re there.

You take one final glance at the apartment, realizing this will be the last time you’ll ever be here. It saddens you a bit, knowing that you’ll be leaving everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve for the past fourteen years behind. You wish you would have said, bye to your other apartment back home.

You shut the door and on your way back to Joel and Ellie you drop off a letter you’d written at Amy’s home, slipping it under her door before leaving promptly.

Back to Ellie.

Next Chapter

Holy fucking shit. That took so long to write and upload I’m so sorry. 😔 I know I had said it would be uploaded like a week ago but my internet was down and still is. I’m currently at Starbucks using their public wifi which is scary considering I could get hacked but.. the fix must go on. 🫶🏼 Anywho I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and are enjoying the fic as a whole 😋 like I said it is a longer chapter than any other one I’ve written. And I honestly really like how it turned out.

Anyways okay, I’m going to stop rambling thank you so much for reading 💗💗💗

P.s message me or comment to be added to the tag list! 🤍

Tag list: @vee-bees-blog (they a real one fr) 🫶🏼

[aheckinmess]

Beneath a Starlit Sky [Mirio] (Fluff)

(One Shot 16/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Mirio x OC, Lemillion x OC, Mirio Togata, Lemillion, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Tigress, Mirio is a Ray of Sunshine, Would You Love Me if I Was a Worm?, Fluffy Antics, Fluff, Pool Day, OC is Mirio's Girlfriend, There's a Cat Sprinkled In, Overall a Lot of Horseplaying Around, Enjoying the Summer Heat, Camping at Night, Deep Conversations

Word Count: 1,437 words

Summary: After hanging out in Mirio's pool for the day when the summer heat gets brutal, Mirio and Ichijiku camp out later that night in his backyard tent and have a deep, late night conversation about being heroes, as well as what they'd like to do in their future.

Ichijiku (Tigress)

The gentle caress of water lapping at my skin never ceases to soak all of the anxious worries out of my body while I float about the surface tension of the pool. Even when Mirio jumps in and sends me swirling around, I only laugh and sweep my arm across the waves to soak him in retribution.

“Mirio!” I cackle, swimming over and wrapping my arms around his neck. “I was trying to enjoy the pool!”

“Well, I just helped you enjoy it a little quicker.” He winks, pecking my cheek.

“Is that what it was?” I shake my head and roll my eyes, earning me another kiss as he squeezes me close. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Hm, I don’t know that I’d go for much on Amazon.”

“Are you kidding? You’d go for Lemillion yen!” I giggle, screeching when he blows a raspberry against my neck. “Ah, that sounds so gross!”

“We’re both covered in water! What did you expect?” Mirio laughs.

“A warning at the very least!”

I pull back so that we both go sprawling in the water. Of course, Mirio uses his quirk to get the upper hand, and the next thing I know he’s body slamming me and a torrential flood showers upon us. When I surface again, I throw my legs around the back of his shoulders and ruffle his hair on purpose.

“You will cower before meee!” I cackle.

“Never! I will not bow to your goddess-like charms!” He dives in and water shoots up my nose as I’m dragged under.

We both come back up sputtering and coughing and laughing.

“I didn’t think to plug my nose.” I gag, huffing all the excess water out of my nostrils. “You traitor!”

“Well I got my just desserts because I didn’t think to plug mine, either!” Mirio snorts, shaking his head and wiping his nose. 

“You were the one that dove!”

“I didn’t think that far ahead into my plan.”

Laughter echoes across the pool as we both cough out the remaining water in our lungs. Then I glide over to the edge and heave myself out, standing and finding my towel. I wrap it around my shoulders and sit at the edge as Mirio continues floating.

“Aww, are you done already?” He pouts.

“Already? Mirio, we’ve been swimming for two hours!” I roll my eyes, sticking my feet back in and dousing at him with a kick. “If I stay in there any longer you’ll be dating a raisin!” 

“I’d still love you if you were a raisin!” 

“Aww, would you love me if I was a worm?”

“I just told you I’d love you as an inanimate raisin! You think I wouldn’t love you as a worm?” Mirio swims over and settles between my calves as he rests his head on my thigh. “Of course I’d still love you if you were a worm. Though, admittedly, I would miss this version of you.”

My fingers comb through his hair as I look down at his cheeky grin. I scoot aside so he can climb out and sit with me, and then lay my head on his shoulder. Both of us watch the rays of light hit the water and the neighbor’s cat sunbathing on their patio. A bird visits the birdfeeder standing nearby and hightails it the second he sees us.

That afternoon, I’m reminded of the simple joys of life as the summer sun burns it into my skin and I smile.

. . . . .

“Mirio, no. Mirio, don’t you dare!” I scream as he picks up a roach from inside the tent and holds it out to me. “You know I hate roaches!”

“He’s just a little guy. If you hold him, you won’t be as afraid.” His blue eyes gaze so innocently at me even though he’s holding the little demon in the palm of his hand. “Come on.”

“He is not little! And no!” I snap, hopping a few feet back. “I’m already tempted to tell you I’m sleeping in your room tonight and burning the tent. Just get it away from me!”

“If you insist.” Mirio smiles and disappears to the front yard for a few minutes.

Only after I’ve scoured the surface of the tent while he’s gone do I trust it enough to lay my sleeping bag down. I scream again when he sneaks up and attacks my sides.

“Mirio Togata, stop scaring me or I’m going home!” I whine.

“Nooooo!” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me down on top of him. “I didn’t mean it. I take it all back!”

With my back to his chest, he tucks his face in my neck and I squirm. It takes a moment for my body to relax after all the adrenaline his antics have caused. But eventually, I sigh deeply and lay against him, closing my eyes and reveling in his closeness.

“Do you still love me?” He murmurs against my ear.

“Of course I do.” I crane my neck and kiss his cheek. “But if you try to make me hold a roach again and it’s not a matter of life and death, I will murder you in your sleep.”

“Noted.”

Awkward limbs fumble around each other as we both get back to setting up our sleeping area. My eyes scan for more creepy crawlies while Mirio seems unbothered. When a bug flies into our tent, I panic before it lands and I recognize the large moth.

“Oh, so you’re fine with this huge moth, but the second you see a roach…” Mirio smirks.

“I can’t help it!” I grab my pillow and smack him with it. “Any bug that my brain thinks shouldn’t be bigger than a quarter freaks me out! I’m fine with tiny roaches and beetles. But the second they get too big, they’re fair game!”

“Haha! I love you so much.” He coos.

“I love you too, you permeating punk.” I stick my tongue out at him.

At long last, we both crawl into our sleeping bags and cuddle in close. I shut off the lantern when it’s time for sleep and steady my breathing. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but just as I’m starting to fade, Mirio’s voice calls out to me.

“Hey, Ichan?”

“Mm?”

“Why did you decide to become a hero?”

Silence blankets us as the crickets stall for me with a song. Childhood memories flash through my mind. Yelling pervades most of it, but there was laughter too. Playful running around the house gets sprinkled in with the consistent angry accusations my mother would always throw at my father and me.

“You know how I grew up,” I begin, glad for the darkness cloaking my expressions. “There might have been a lot of suffering, but there was some good in it too. I decided to be a hero so that I could offer a little bit of good into peoples’ lives when things go wrong. I want to be reliable, so no one else has to suffer the same way I did.”

The silky sound of skin sliding over sleeping bag stretches across until I feel his hand squeeze mine. Tears prick at my eyes and I swallow them down, turning to tuck my head into his chest, dragging my sleeping bag with me.

“I didn’t grow up in the same manner, but that’s how I feel too. I want everyone to be capable of smiling.” Mirio whispers, stroking my hair and planting a kiss on my forehead. “What would you have done if you hadn’t gone down the pro-hero path?”

“Something artsy.” I say. “I’ve thought about it before. I think I would have either started my own business as a baker or maybe sell some crochet goodies of mine.”

“I still have the stuffed bear you made me.”

“Really?”

“Sure do.” 

“What would you have done, Mi-kun?”

“Mom says I would make a good lawyer.” He chuckles. “But I think I might have become a comedian or motivational speaker.”

“I can see that.”

“Or maybe if you’d started a bakery, I would have owned a flower shop so our lives could have still intertwined.” He kisses my cheek. “I can’t imagine a life without you.” “Me either.” I agree, heart thrumming as I hesitantly add. “You’re like my family now, Mirio.”

“You’re my family, too.” He reassures, his hold on me tightening. “And one day, I’ll buy you a nice ring, and we’ll get married, find a house, and have a big family.” He sighs pleasantly as he trails off. “Just me and you against the world.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Want More Mirio? Try: Shelter in the Storm

[nerd-chocolate]

My Vesperia redesign and a bit rewrite of a queen banana:

I want to thank everyone that participated in the poll for this and the upcoming Kitty Noire redesign post I’ll be doing next. Just wanted to say this post is for pure fun and not for malicious intent just like my sole crusher redesign and sorry that wasn’t clear enough. Anyway on to this post.

My opinion about her original design:

Honestly, I like Vesperia’s design, it looks pretty great. And look, I know it has its drawbacks and may not be the best design but it is far from the worst design in the whole show. That goes to Aspik, Snake Noir, and Hawkmoth/Shadow moth/Monarch, huh like father like son. Okay back to the discussion beforehand, yeah Vesperia looks more like a wasp than a bee but I don’t find any issues with it since some of the heroes also don’t like their respective animals as well and some people weren’t complaining about them, to be honest. Also if I did have a problem with it then this post probably wouldn’t exist. Honestly, the things I don’t like about her design are her camouflage mode design, her hair, and the slider (what the wiki calls it) on her chest. Her camo mode hair comb is just a bee design but with her usual colors for her clothes, which doesn’t look that pleasing to me. Her braid isn’t just working for me and I’m kinda confused about how it looks when it is unbraid compared to Queen Bee's hair where that hairstyle makes sense. And why the slider on her chest, it feels very out of place, to be honest, and it doesn’t need to be there at all. So yeah this design is pretty solid in my book. I like the design even though there are problems with it that people have that are genuine criticisms of it.

So let's redesign Vesperia and see if the design could work for her as much as her original design.

Her Redesign:

Okay, so I ended up changing the design a lot more than expected so here we go. The things I’m keeping are her boots, her mask, her stripes, and her antennas since I like them and would fit here. First I would give her a short half-down and half-up hairstyle so the hair comb with the antennas can stay in place while her bangs and bottom layer are black hair color and then her mask being the same as before. Then I would give her a sleeveless swan-necked black shirt with warm yellow stripes and the collar is warm yellow as well. She has black fingerless biker gloves with spikes on them and warm yellow shorts with suspenders hanging down and chains belts which is where the spinning top is. She has bee wings as well because it would work for her. Lastly, having black ripped tights and boots from her original design. And as for the disguise mode for the miraculous, I would have two pink bougainvillea flowers one on the right and one on the left and they each have a skull head in the middle while having gold leaves and thorns as well for the rest of the hair comb. Here are some pictures for reference:

And yes, I know she isn’t a ginger but that stops me from pushing my Ginger Zoé agenda!!

Some notes and quotes:

Okay I know this is the part where I do a personality rewrite but honestly, it is the same as her canon self so let’s move on.

Before I do the quotes, here are some things that I would like to mention:

She can be very snarky whenever Chloé gets akumatized.

She is very close friends with Rooster Bold and Purple Tigress. And may or not ask them for love advice sometimes.

I think during Queen Banana, Zoé had a bag of honey chocolate chip cookies and gave Pollen to recharge, and ever since Pollen loved them.

She may not know Pollen that long but she and Pollen have a nice bond where Zoé was mostly scared of her at first but ends up thinking Pollen is one of the sweetest things in the world. While Pollen would help Zoé with her self-confidence and always be happy to see her (and lowkey shipping her with her crush).

And her antennas can emote as some anime ahoges can even without her noticing it.

Now here are some quotes for you guys to enjoy (and sorry these are a bit weaker than usual) also I'm did use @artzychic27 ocs in this I’m tagging them for that reason:

Reshma when Queen Banana appears: … I swear to god, the more she gets akumatized the more she looks tacky in each one.

Jean: Yep and the fact she got a gaudy car and gorilla as well is stupid.

Ismael: I’m starting to think ShadowMoth is getting worse in Akuma design as we speak that is even low for him since some of the early Akuma designs weren’t even that good.

Reshma: Yep, he is even worse than Gabriel fucking Agreste is.

Meanwhile

ShadowMoth: *crying* I’m not a bad designer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cosette: Okay, I think we’re safe here from that loony banana for now. *turn to face Zoé* Right now, we need to *sees that she upsets* Zoé?… What's wrong?

Zoé hugging her knees: …

Cosette: *sits next to her* You can tell me if you want, I just want to know if you’re okay.

Zoé: … It's my fault.

Cosette: Huh?

Zoé: It's my fault that she’s acting like this and terrorizing everyone! If I wasn’t in the movie, she wouldn’t be ruining it and got akumatized. She was probably right to want to send me back to New York. *starts tearing up* I’ll just keep messing up things for everyone else just like I did back in New York.

Cosette: Zoé, none of this is your fault.

Zoé: What?

Cosette: *gently holds her hand while blushing* You didn’t do anything wrong in this situation and Chloé is just trying to pin blame on someone else so she wouldn’t have to admit that it was her fault in the first place. There were many times when she got akumatized because she didn’t get what she wanted those were way before you came here. Even if you mess up, like I said, I and many others are going to be here to help you, no matter what. Overall, you did nothing wrong in this situation and I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it, okay?

Zoé: *blushing* … Okay, I believe you.

Cosette: *hugs her* Good.

Zoé: *hugs them back and then let's go when she hears chaos coming from outside* But, I need to face her alone. She’s my sister and I can’t sit by and let her hurt others because of me. So I want you to stay here so you can be safe because knowing that you aren’t hurt, makes me happy, Cosette.

Cosette: Okay, just be safe out there.

Zoé: I will. *hugs it real tight before leaving* I’ll be back!

Cosette: *blushes while smiling* Okay! ‘That’s my girl.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ladybug summons a motorcycle: … What the?!

Zoé: Hmm, if you don’t mind can I drive it?

Ladybug: Oh…Okay?

Zoé: Great! *puts on her helmet and gets on it* Hang on!

Ladybug: *holds on to her* Wha- *gets freaked by the fast driving* AHHHHHHH!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An alternative way to defeat Queen Banana (sorry this is too corny for you):

Queen Banana holding Ladybug while her banana gun is against her head: Give me your miraculous, or else I’ll turn her int- *gets pulled into the ground by a yellow string and drops her banana gun* What the?! Who dares to stop me?!?

Vesperia: I did, banana brain.

Queen Banana: Who are you supposed to be, my pathetic clone?! Because there is only one Queen Bee and that is me!!!

Vesperia: .. You're right, you are the only queen bee around here. You know the one who almost caused a train to crash for her selfish reasons, the one who decided to work with Shadowmoth because she didn’t get what she wanted, and put every other hero in danger by revealing their secret identity to him not realizing the consequences of what will happen next. No one wants to be Queen Bee because she is nothing but a pathetic person that expects things to go her way all the damn time. You are queen bee since no one wants to be anything like you, especially me. *grins a sly smile* I’m Vesperia by the way! *wields her spinning top back into her hand* VENOM! *stings Queen Banana and takes her hair clip* Here you go! *throws it to ladybug, who catches it*

Ladybug/Chat Noir: 😧

Chat Noir: … That was unexpected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vesperia while princess carrying Cosette: Are you okay, Co- I mean civilian?

Cosette: *blushing like crazy* Um-uh..um YEAH! Thank you for saving me!!

Vesperia: *also blushing while her antennas emote a heart shape* You're welcome! Let’s get you to safety, don’t want someone as cute as you to get hurt. *starts to fly up to the skies*

Cosette: ….*makes confused bisexual noises*

After a few minutes of searching for a safe place

Cosette: *blushing* Thank you for saving me Vesperia, you’re a very pretty- I mean pretty cool hero!

Vesperia: *blushing* Of course! I’m always here if you ever need saving umm…

Cosette: Cosette.

Vesperia: Right! You have such a lovely name.

Cosette: Thanks. *smiles softly and awkwardly*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pollen looking at a picture of the science kids: My Queen, who are these people?

Zoé: Oh, those are my friends. We took that photo a couple days after I first got here.

Pollen: Oh so they’re like your court?

Zoé: Well I’m not sure if that's the right way to use it like that.

Pollen: … *points to Cosette* So would that mean this girl you were talking to isn’t queen by your side then.

Zoé: … *blushes like a ripped tomato* NO! Not like that!! I mean I do appreciate Cosette as a friend of mine!!! It’s not that I have a crush on it exactly!!

Pollen who saw the whole conversation when she saved them: Uhhh right, my queen. ‘It seems like my queen may be having trouble expressing her emotions… a lot.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marc: Oh hey Zoé!

Zoé: Hey Marc, hey Nathaniel! What are you guys doing?

Marc: We’re heading to movies and the fact I finally got him to take a break from drawing all that adrienette cringe.

Nathaniel: I still think we could have stayed at home to watch some movies.

Marc: But it's lovely out here, especially the weather! Anyway, what are you doing?

Zoé: Oh I was just smelling some flowers, no biggie!

Nathaniel: Really, your cover in flowers and pollen.

Zoé: I was checking if flowers were okay and might I say, they are looking and smell lovely.

Marc: Oh okay. Well you want to come with us to the movies?

Zoé: Oh no thanks, I don’t be the third wheel on your date and don’t want to make things awkward when you two decide to make out in the movie theater. *she’s wink while MarcNath blushes*

Nathaniel: We better get going, bye Zoé.

Marc: See you at school, Zoé!

Zoé: See ya! *waves MarcNath goodbye as they walking* Well, time to go back to smell these lovely flowers!

Hope everyone has a good day and enjoy this post!

[lemondragoncheesecake]

For the sinday ask. I know that it's tomorrow, but still, heheh ;)

21 with Kai/Daiyu and Kai/Tigress.

21.+ established ship question. in any/all verses, with any/all ships, have your character/s speak about that ship's intimate & sexual dynamic, and how they feel about it.

What Kai and Daiyu have is...complex. More than lust, much more, though neither will name it aloud. It's very intimate, that's for certain, though casual, especially in the way it's initiated. Sometimes Kai leads, other times he lets her.

One thing about being a Spirit Warrior that they both enjoy: the futility of trying to find the limit to the limitless. How long can they go in one session until they're out of breath? (Eternity, when you don't need to breathe). How many climaxes can they have in a row? (Endless, when you no longer feel exhaustion). How much can they handle? (Everything, turns out- or almost).

Kai thinks she mistakes him for some soft, gentle thing that deserves her love, though Daiyu actually knows much better; yet, there are times when she treats him that way, and others when post coitus she's left him unable to stand or feel anything below the belt ; the sweetness to match the harsh.

It's even better for them because they're both immortal, truly equals; the only question is when - if ever - they'll get sick of it, a question Kai asks himself. What will send it all crashing down? When will he make that final move, the straw that breaks the lizard's back, that finally revolts her enough to leave him? What will he do when that happens? What will she? They both have eternity.

For Kai and Tigress it's more coarse. Kai usually initiates(heaven knows Tigress won't). He really pushes her buttons- both anger and arousal. And he knows just how to do it, too.

But even then- though neither will say it outright- there's definitely affection between them...and much tension. It's more annoying for Tigress because Kai, despite her best attempts, can always see right through her and know exactly when she wants to blow off steam; she won't ask for it, but Kai knows, and that's when he extends an offer- usually in the pretense of a private sparring match...which, when Kai has his way, always ends with both of them much more sweaty than they should be...and then Kai invites her to bathe with him. How can she refuse?

[pucksandpower]

Keeping Up With the Leclercs

mafia!Charles Leclerc x bratva! Reader

Summary: ever wondered what it would be like if Morticia and Gomez Addams were in the mafia? There’s nothing quite like a dangerous couple who are (literally) crazy for each other

Warnings: arranged marriage and kidnapping

You stand in your father’s study, arms crossed defiantly as he delivers the news that will change your life forever. The plush Persian rug beneath your feet feels like quicksand, threatening to swallow you whole.

“You can’t be serious,” you spit out, glaring at the man who raised you. “An arranged marriage? What century do you think we’re living in?”

Your father, Nikolai, the most feared man in the Bratva, doesn’t flinch. He merely raises an eyebrow, his steely gaze unwavering. “It’s not up for discussion, Y/N. This alliance with the Monegasque Mafia will secure our position for generations to come.”

You scoff, pacing the room like a caged tigress. “And I’m just supposed to be the sacrificial lamb? How convenient.”

“Watch your tone,” Nikolai warns, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t a request. It’s an order.”

The door to the study swings open, and in walks the very man you’re meant to marry. Charles Leclerc, heir to the Monegasque Mafia, saunters in with an air of arrogance that makes your blood boil.

“Ah, there’s my blushing bride,” Charles drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “I hope I’m not interrupting a touching father-daughter moment.”

You spin to face him, eyes blazing. “You. This is your fault, isn’t it? What, couldn’t find a woman willing to marry you voluntarily?”

Charles chuckles, seemingly amused by your outburst. “Feisty. I like that in a woman.”

“I’m not your woman,” you snarl, taking a step towards him. “And I never will be.”

Your father clears his throat, reminding you of his presence. “Y/N, Charles, please sit down. We have much to discuss.”

Reluctantly, you take a seat on the leather sofa, as far from Charles as possible. He, on the other hand, sprawls out comfortably, looking for all the world like he owns the place.

“Now,” Nikolai begins, “the wedding will take place in three months. Until then, I expect you both to get to know each other and present a united front to our associates.”

You can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Three months? Why the rush? Afraid I’ll come to my senses and run away?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t worry, mon chérie. I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly ... distracted.”

“You’re disgusting,” you mutter, refusing to meet his gaze.

Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough. You two will learn to get along, for the sake of both our families.”

“And if we don’t?” You challenge, raising your chin defiantly.

Nikolai’s expression darkens. “Then you’ll face the consequences. Both of you.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You know better than anyone what your father is capable of when crossed.

Charles, seemingly unfazed, stands up and stretches. “Well, this has been delightful, but I think Y/N and I could use some ... alone time to get acquainted.”

You jump to your feet, ready to protest, but your father beats you to it. “An excellent idea. Y/N, why don’t you show Charles the gardens?”

It’s not a suggestion, and you know it. Gritting your teeth, you storm out of the study, not bothering to check if Charles is following.

The moment you’re in the hallway, Charles catches up, matching your brisk pace. “So, tell me about yourself, future Mrs. Leclerc. What makes you tick?”

You whirl around, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Listen here, you smug bastard. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want no part of it. This marriage? It’s never going to happen.”

Charles catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Oh, it’s happening alright. But who says we can’t have a little fun along the way?”

You yank your hand away, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Fun? You think this is fun?”

“It could be,” he shrugs, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. “If you’d let that stick out of your ass for five minutes.”

“Charming,” you deadpan. “Is this how you usually woo women? Insults and forced marriages?”

Charles laughs, the sound rich and oddly melodic. “Only the special ones. Come on, Y/N. Give me a chance. I might surprise you.”

You pause, studying him for a moment. Despite your anger, you can’t deny there’s something intriguing about Charles. A dangerous allure that both excites and terrifies you.

“Fine,” you concede grudgingly. “One chance. But if you so much as look at me wrong, I’ll make you regret it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Charles grins, offering you his arm. “Shall we explore these famous gardens of yours?”

Ignoring his outstretched arm, you lead the way outside. The sun is setting, casting a golden glow over the meticulously manicured grounds.

“It’s beautiful,” Charles murmurs, genuine appreciation in his voice.

You nod, allowing yourself to relax slightly. “It’s my favorite place on the estate. I used to hide here as a child when things got ... intense inside.”

Charles turns to you, his expression softening. “It can’t have been easy, growing up in this world.”

“Like you’d know anything about it,” you scoff, but there’s less venom in your words now.

“You’d be surprised,” he says quietly. “The gilded cage of Monaco isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “Oh? Do tell.”

Charles shakes his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “Another time, perhaps. For now, I’d rather hear about you. What do you do when you’re not busy being the Bratva princess?”

“I’m not a princess,” you retort automatically. “And I ... I paint, actually.”

“Really?” Charles seems genuinely interested. “What kind of art?”

You hesitate, unused to sharing this part of yourself. “Mostly abstracts. Emotions translated into color and form.”

“I’d love to see them sometime,” Charles says softly. “If you’d let me.”

You study him, trying to detect any hint of mockery. Finding none, you nod slowly. “Maybe. If you behave yourself.”

Charles clutches his chest dramatically. “Me? Misbehave? I’m wounded by the very suggestion.”

Despite yourself, you feel the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

As you continue walking, a comfortable silence falls between you. The tension from earlier hasn’t disappeared entirely, but it’s shifted into something ... different. Something charged with possibility.

“You know,” Charles says suddenly, breaking the quiet, “this arranged marriage thing doesn’t have to be a death sentence.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Says the man who’s not being forced to give up his freedom.”

“Who says you have to give up anything?” Charles counters. “We could make our own rules, create our own version of this marriage.”

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. “What are you suggesting?”

Charles steps closer, his voice low and intense. “A partnership. Equal footing. We present a united front to the world, secure our families’ alliance, but behind closed doors? We live our lives how we want.”

“And what about love?” You ask, hating how vulnerable you sound. “What about building a real relationship?”

Charles reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sends shivers down your spine. “Who says that can’t happen naturally? We have time. We can take things slow, get to know each other properly.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “And if we end up hating each other?”

“Then we’ll still be the most dangerous power couple the mafia world has ever seen,” Charles grins. “Think about it. With your fire and my charm, we could rule this entire underworld.”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension finally breaking. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer to think of myself as irresistible,” Charles winks.

Rolling your eyes, you start walking again. “Don’t push your luck, Leclerc.”

As you near the house, Charles suddenly stops, turning to face you. His expression is more serious now, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Listen, Y/N,” he says softly. “I know this isn’t ideal for either of us. But I meant what I said about making it work. I respect you, and I want us to build something real, even if it starts from an arrangement.”

You study him, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, you nod slowly. “Okay. I’m willing to try if you are.”

Charles breaks into a genuine smile, one that transforms his entire face. “That’s all I ask.”

As you stand there, bathed in the dying light of the day, you feel something shift between you. It’s not love, not yet, but it’s a beginning. A spark of possibility that could, with time and nurturing, grow into something beautiful.

Charles takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, deliberately, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. The touch is electric, sending a jolt through your entire body.

Pulling back slightly, Charles looks you up and down, a wicked glint in his eye. “You know what, Y/N? I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy everything you have to offer.”

And despite yourself, despite all your reservations and fears, you find yourself looking forward to proving him right.

***

Three months have passed in a whirlwind of preparations, negotiations, and stolen moments. Now, as the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself in the opulent bridal suite of the Leclerc compound, face to face with your new husband.

Charles stands before you, his tuxedo jacket discarded, bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes, dark with desire, never leave yours as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Well, Mrs. Leclerc,” he drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Shall we consummate this union of ours?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t quite suppress the flutter in your stomach. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Charles. I’m still not convinced this wasn’t a terrible idea.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Always so prickly. It’s one of the things I love about you, you know.”

“Love?” You scoff, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at the word. “We’ve known each other for three months.”

Charles reaches out, his fingers trailing along your jawline. “Sometimes, that’s all it takes.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. “Just ... help me out of this dress, will you? I can hardly breathe in this thing.”

“With pleasure,” Charles grins, moving behind you.

As he slowly lowers the zipper, his breath hot on your neck, you can’t help but shiver. The tension between you has been building for weeks, and now, alone at last, it threatens to consume you both.

The dress pools at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments and ...

Charles lets out a low whistle. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

You turn to face him, a wicked glint in your eye. Strapped to various parts of your body are an impressive array of weapons — daggers, throwing stars, even a small pistol holstered to your thigh.

“A girl’s got to be prepared,” you shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the heat rising to your cheeks.

Charles’ eyes roam over you, a mix of admiration and desire in his gaze. “I must say, I’m impressed. And more than a little turned on.”

You can’t help but laugh, some of the tension dissipating. “Is that all it takes? A few knives and you’re ready to go?”

“What can I say?” Charles grins, stepping closer. “I like a woman who can handle herself.”

His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers brushing against the hilt of a dagger. “Though I have to ask, were you planning to assassinate me on our wedding night?”

You smirk, trailing a finger down his chest. “The night’s still young, Mr. Leclerc. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Charles laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Oh, mon amour. What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things,” you murmur, surprising yourself with your boldness.

Charles’ eyes darken, his grip on your waist tightening. “Care to elaborate?”

Instead of answering, you reach up and pull him down for a kiss. It’s fierce and passionate, months of pent-up tension finally finding release. Charles responds eagerly, his hands roaming your body, carefully avoiding the various weapons still strapped to your skin.

When you finally break apart, both panting, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “As much as I’m enjoying this little arsenal of yours, perhaps we should disarm you before things get too ... heated.”

You nod, slightly dazed from the intensity of the kiss. “Probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents.”

Charles steps back, his eyes never leaving yours as you begin to remove the weapons one by one. With each knife that clatters to the ground, the air between you grows thicker with anticipation.

“You know,” Charles muses, watching as you unholster the pistol from your thigh, “most brides wear a garter. You went for a whole armory.”

You smirk, setting the gun carefully on a nearby table. “I’m not most brides.”

“No,” Charles agrees, his voice low and husky. “You certainly aren’t.”

As you remove the last dagger, Charles closes the distance between you once more. His hands, warm and calloused, cup your face gently.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “I know this isn’t how either of us imagined getting married. But I want you to know, I’m glad it’s you.”

You swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. “Charles, I-”

He silences you with a soft kiss, so different from the passionate one you shared earlier. This one is tender, almost reverent, and it makes your knees weak.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing heavily. “You don’t have to say anything,” Charles whispers. “Just ... be here with me. In this moment.”

You nod, unable to form words. Instead, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you undo them one by one.

Charles watches you, his eyes dark with desire. As you push the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest, he lets out a shaky breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands settling on your hips.

You blush, unused to such open admiration. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you manage to quip, trying to regain some of your usual bravado.

Charles chuckles, pulling you closer. “Always with the sharp tongue. I wonder what else it can do.”

Before you can retort, his lips are on yours again, hot and demanding. You melt into the kiss, your hands exploring the planes of his chest, tracing old scars and feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

Charles’ fingers find the clasp of your bra, and he pauses, looking at you questioningly. You nod, giving him permission, and he deftly unhooks it, letting it fall to the floor.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

You fight the urge to cover yourself, instead meeting his gaze defiantly. “Your turn,” you say, your hands moving to his belt.

Charles grins, helping you undo the buckle. “Eager, are we?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but there’s no real heat behind it.

As you both finish undressing, the air between you crackles with anticipation. Charles takes your hand, leading you towards the massive four-poster bed that dominates the room.

“Last chance to back out,” he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

You look up at him, taking in the mixture of desire and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything, despite the arranged nature of your marriage and the complexities of your world, you find yourself wanting this.

Wanting him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, pulling him down onto the bed with you.

What follows is a dance of passion and discovery. Charles’ hands and lips seem to be everywhere at once, mapping out every inch of your skin. You’re not passive either, giving as good as you get, reveling in the way he gasps and moans under your touch.

It’s not perfect — there are moments of awkwardness, of fumbling and laughter. But it’s real, and raw, and more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced.

As you both near the edge, Charles looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. “Y/N,” he pants, his movements becoming more erratic. “God, Y/N ...”

You arch against him, your nails digging into his back. “Charles,” you gasp, teetering on the brink. “I’m ... I’m ...”

He captures your lips in a searing kiss as you both tumble over the edge together, waves of pleasure washing over you.

Afterwards, you lie tangled together, both struggling to catch your breath. Charles props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and wonder.

“Well,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “I’d say that was a successful consummation, wouldn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “It wasn’t terrible,” you concede, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual sass.

Charles raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “Not terrible? I seem to recall you being quite ... vocal in your appreciation.”

You blush, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment. “Shut up,” you mutter, your words muffled against his skin.

Charles chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Never,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I plan on making you that vocal every night for the rest of our lives.”

You pull back, looking up at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” he winks, leaning down to steal another kiss.

As you settle into each other’s arms, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles’ fingers continue their gentle exploration of your skin, occasionally brushing against the spots where your weapons had been strapped earlier.

“I have to say,” he murmurs after a while, “I’m looking forward to discovering what other surprises you have in store for me, Mrs. Leclerc.”

You tense slightly at the name, reality crashing back in. “About that,” you say, sitting up and pulling the sheet around you. “This ... what just happened... it doesn’t change anything.”

Charles frowns, propping himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I mean, this was ... enjoyable. But it doesn’t change the fact that we were forced into this marriage. That our lives are being dictated by our families and their alliances.”

“Y/N,” Charles says softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “I thought ... I thought we were past that. That we were building something real here.”

You close your eyes, fighting back the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. “We are. I think. But it doesn’t erase the circumstances that brought us together. I just ... I need you to understand that.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your arm. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. “I understand. But, mon cœur, look at me.”

Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. The depth of emotion you see there takes your breath away.

“Yes, our marriage was arranged,” he says. “But what’s happening between us? That’s real. That’s ours. And I’m not going to let anyone, not our families, not the entire damn underworld, take that away from us. Okay?”

You swallow hard, fighting back tears you didn’t even realize were threatening to fall. “Okay,” you whisper.

Charles pulls you back down into his arms, holding you close. You let yourself relax against him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“For what it’s worth,” you murmur after a while, your fingers tracing the lines of a scar on his abdomen, “I’m glad it’s you too.”

But you’re still going to give him hell every step of the way. After all, where would be the fun in making it easy?

***

The gala is in full swing, crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the ballroom of the Leclerc compound. You stand by Charles’ side, both of you the picture of mafia royalty in your evening wear. Your hand rests on his arm, a gesture that has become natural over the past few months.

“Smile, mon chérie,” Charles murmurs, his lips barely moving. “The Woking representative is watching.”

You plaster on your most charming smile, leaning into Charles slightly. “How long do we have to keep this up?” You whisper back.

Charles chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Until we’ve sufficiently convinced everyone that we’re madly in love. So … forever.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he winks, before turning to greet an approaching guest.

As Charles engages in small talk, you let your gaze wander around the room. Something feels off, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Years of growing up in the Bratva have honed your instincts, and right now, they’re screaming danger.

“Charles,” you murmur, interrupting his conversation. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks at you sharply, instantly alert. “What is it?”

Before you can answer, the lights go out. The room erupts into chaos, shouts of confusion and fear filling the air.

Charles’ arm wraps around you protectively. “Stay close,” he orders, his voice tense.

Suddenly, gunshots ring out. Glass shatters, and screams pierce the darkness. You feel Charles being torn away from you, and panic sets in.

“Charles!” You shout, reaching for him blindly.

A hand grabs your arm, but you know instantly it’s not Charles. You react on instinct, twisting and striking out with your elbow. There’s a grunt of pain, and the grip loosens.

The emergency lights flicker on, casting an eerie red glow over the scene. Bodies litter the floor, some moving, others disturbingly still. You scan the room frantically for Charles, your heart pounding.

A movement catches your eye, and you turn to see a man in a black mask aiming a gun at you. Time seems to slow down as you reach for the knife strapped to your thigh, cursing yourself for not being more heavily armed.

Just as the man’s finger tightens on the trigger, a blur of motion tackles him to the ground. Charles. Relief floods through you, quickly replaced by fear as you see them grappling on the floor.

You rush forward, knife in hand, but more masked figures appear, surrounding you. You fight with everything you have, your knife flashing in the dim light, but you’re outnumbered.

A sharp pain explodes in the back of your head, and the world goes dark.

When you come to, you’re tied to a chair in what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Your head throbs, and you can taste blood in your mouth. As your vision clears, you see Charles tied to another chair a few feet away, his face bruised and bloody.

“Y/N,” he breathes when he sees you’re awake. “Are you alright?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “I’m fine. What happened? Where are we?”

Before Charles can answer, a door slams open. A man strolls in, his expensive suit at odds with the grimy surroundings. You recognize him immediately — Zak Brown, head of the Woking Crime Family.

“Well, well,” Brown drawls, a cruel smile on his face. “The newlyweds are finally awake. How touching.”

Charles strains against his bonds, his eyes blazing with fury. “Brown, you bastard. What do you want?”

Brown chuckles, circling your chairs like a shark. “What do I want? Oh, nothing much. Just the complete destruction of the Bratva and Monegasque Mafia. And you two are going to help me achieve that.”

You spit blood at his feet. “Go to hell.”

“Feisty,” Brown grins, stopping in front of you. “I can see why Leclerc here is so taken with you.”

He reaches out, grabbing your chin roughly. You try to jerk away, but his grip is like iron.

“Don’t touch her!” Charles roars, his chair scraping against the concrete as he struggles.

Brown ignores him, his eyes locked on yours. “You know, I’ve always had a thing for Bratva princesses. Maybe once this is all over, I’ll keep you for myself.”

Charles’ voice is low and dangerous when he speaks. “If you so much as lay another finger on my wife, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”

Brown turns to him, eyebrow raised. “My, my. Such passion. And here I thought this was just a marriage of convenience.”

You look at Charles, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. His eyes meet yours, and the emotion you see there takes your breath away.

Brown claps his hands, breaking the moment. “As touching as this is, we have business to attend to. You’re going to call your fathers and tell them to surrender control of their organizations to me. If you don’t, well ...” He pulls out a gun, pointing it at your head. “I’m sure you can imagine the consequences.”

Charles laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. “You’re delusional if you think that will work. Our fathers would sacrifice us in a heartbeat to maintain control.”

“Perhaps,” Brown shrugs. “But are you willing to take that chance?” He cocks the gun, pressing it against your temple.

You close your eyes, steeling yourself. “Do it,” you spit out. “I’d rather die than betray my family.”

“Y/N, no,” Charles says, his voice breaking.

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. “It’s okay, Charles. We always knew this could happen.”

Brown looks between you, frustration evident on his face. “Enough of this noble sacrifice bullshit. You have one hour to make your decision. I’ll be back.”

He storms out, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he’s gone, you start working on your bonds. “Charles, can you reach the knife in my hair?”

He blinks, momentarily confused. “You have a knife in your hair?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. Now hurry, before they come back.”

Charles manages to scoot his chair closer, awkwardly fumbling with your elaborate updo. After a few tense moments, he lets out a triumphant “Aha!” As he extracts a small, razor-sharp blade using nothing but his mouth.

“You never cease to amaze me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice.

Working together, you manage to cut through your ropes. Once free, you make quick work of Charles’ bonds.

“Okay,” you whisper, rubbing your wrists. “We need a plan.”

Charles nods, his eyes scanning the room. “There’s probably guards outside. We’ll need a distraction.”

You grin, reaching into your dress and pulling out a small explosive device. “Will this do?”

Charles stares at you in disbelief. “Where did you ... you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

You approach the door, setting the device. “Ready?”

Charles takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “Y/N, wait. Before we do this, I need you to know something.”

You turn to him, confused by the intensity in his eyes. “What is it?”

“I love you,” he says simply. “Not because of our families, not because of the arrangement. I love you, Y/N, for everything that you are.”

Your heart skips a beat, emotions swirling inside you. “Charles, I-”

The door bursts open, cutting you off. Brown stands there, gun raised, flanked by two guards.

“Well, isn’t this romantic,” he sneers. “I hate to interrupt, but-”

He doesn’t get to finish. Charles moves with lightning speed, tackling Brown to the ground. You react instantly, throwing your knife at one guard while launching yourself at the other.

The room erupts into chaos. Gunshots ring out, and you hear Charles grunt in pain. Fear grips your heart as you dispatch your opponent, turning to see Charles and Brown grappling on the floor, both bloodied.

Brown gains the upper hand, pinning Charles down and reaching for his discarded gun. Without thinking, you throw yourself at him, knocking him off Charles.

You end up on your back, Brown looming over you, his hands around your throat. Your vision starts to blur as you struggle for air.

Suddenly, the pressure is gone. You gasp, air flooding your lungs, and look up to see Charles standing over Brown’s crumpled form, a bloody pipe in his hand.

“That’s my fucking wife,” Charles snarls, his eyes blazing with a fury you’ve never seen before. “I’m going to kill you for touching her.”

As Charles raises the pipe again, you struggle to your feet. “Charles, wait!”

He pauses, looking at you with wild eyes. You place a hand on his arm, feeling the tremors running through his body.

“He’s not worth wasting more time,” you say softly. “Let’s just get out of here. The explosive will deal with him.”

For a moment, you think he might not listen. Then, slowly, he lowers the pipe. “You’re right,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Let’s go home.”

You make your way out of the warehouse, supporting each other. As you stumble into the cool night air, sirens wailing in the distance, Charles pulls you close.

“I meant what I said in there,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought possible.”

You look up at him, seeing the truth of his words in his eyes. In that moment, all your doubts and reservations melt away. You realize that somewhere along the way, despite the arranged marriage, despite the danger and complexity of your lives, you’ve fallen in love with Charles Leclerc.

“I love you too,” you whisper, the words feeling right on your tongue. “God help me, but I do.”

Charles’ face breaks into a radiant smile, and he leans down to kiss you. It’s not the most comfortable kiss — you’re both battered and bloody, adrenaline still coursing through your veins — but it’s real and raw and perfect.

As you break apart, breathless, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “What do you say we get out of here, Mrs. Leclerc? I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound slightly hysterical with relief and lingering fear. “Lead the way, Mr. Leclerc. But don’t think this means I’m going to start following your orders.”

Charles grins, taking your hand as you start walking. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Your stubbornness is one of the things I love most about you.”

***

The Leclerc mansion buzzes with activity as you and Charles prepare for an event you never quite imagined would be part of your lives: your son’s first parent-teacher conference. The past decade has been a whirlwind of change, love, and unexpected joy, with little Jules at the center of it all.

You stand before the full-length mirror in your bedroom, smoothing down your sleek pantsuit. It’s a far cry from the weapons-laden wedding dress of years past, but old habits die hard — there’s still a small knife concealed in your boot.

Charles appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “You look beautiful, mon cœur. Though I must say, I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t opt for your thigh holster.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t suppress a smile. “Very funny. I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

“Ah yes,” Charles grins, pressing a kiss to your neck. “The fearsome Y/N Leclerc, terror of the underworld, now fretting over a parent-teacher conference. How the mighty have fallen.”

You elbow him playfully in the ribs. “Watch it, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Charles spins you around to face him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t dare. You’d miss me too much.”

“Try me,” you challenge, but there’s no heat in your words. After all these years, the banter between you is as natural as breathing.

A small voice pipes up from the doorway. “Mama, Papa, are you fighting again?”

You both turn to see Jules standing there, his mop of dark curls a mess and his school uniform slightly rumpled. At six years old, he’s the perfect blend of you and Charles — your fierce determination and Charles’ charm wrapped up in one precocious package.

Charles scoops him up, tossing him in the air and eliciting a squeal of delight. “Fighting? Us? Never. Your mother and I were just discussing the finer points of marital bliss.”

You snort, reaching out to smooth Jules’ hair. “What your father means is that he was being an idiot, as usual.”

Jules giggles, looking between the two of you with adoration. “Are you excited to meet Ms. Thompson? She’s really nice, I promise!”

You exchange a glance with Charles, a mixture of pride and apprehension in both your eyes. Sending Jules to a normal school had been a controversial decision among your families, but you were determined to give him as normal a childhood as possible — or at least, as normal as the son of two mafia leaders could have.

“Of course we’re excited, baby,” you say, tweaking Jules’ nose. “Now, why don’t you go make sure you have all your things ready? We’ll be leaving soon.”

As Jules scampers off, Charles pulls you close again. “You know,” he murmurs, “I’m actually a bit nervous about this.”

You look up at him, surprised. “You? Nervous? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Charles shrugs, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s different when it’s about Jules. I just ... I want everything to be perfect for him.”

You soften, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know. Me too. But we’ve faced down rival mafia families, corrupt politicians, and your mother’s infamous Christmas dinners. I think we can handle one teacher.”

Charles laughs, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re right, as always. Though I do have one request.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. “Try not to kill any teachers if you don’t like what they say, okay?”

You pull back, swatting his arm. “Charles Leclerc! I would never!”

“Uh-huh,” he grins, clearly unconvinced. “Need I remind you of the incident with Jules’ preschool teacher?”

You flush, crossing your arms defensively. “That was different. She suggested Jules might have behavior issues. I merely ... expressed my disagreement.”

“You threatened to feed her to the sharks in Monaco Harbor,” Charles deadpans.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” You huff. “She never brought it up again.”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling. “Just ... try to restrain yourself this time, okay? We’re trying to give Jules a normal life, remember?”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine. I promise not to threaten, maim, or otherwise harm any of Jules’ teachers. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Charles grins, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now, shall we go face the music?”

As you make your way downstairs, Jules is waiting by the door, bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Come on, come on!” He urges. “We don’t want to be late!”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Alright, little man. Let’s go.”

The drive to the school is filled with Jules’ chatter about his friends, his favorite subjects, and how he’s sure Ms. Thompson will have only good things to say. You and Charles listen attentively, exchanging fond glances over Jules’ head.

As you pull into the school parking lot, you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. It’s ridiculous, really. You’ve faced down countless dangerous situations without breaking a sweat, but somehow, this feels more daunting.

Charles seems to sense your unease. He takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this,” he murmurs. “Just remember — no death threats.”

You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand back. “I’ll do my best.”

Jules leads the way into the school, practically skipping down the hallway. You and Charles follow, hand-in-hand, drawing curious glances from other parents and teachers. It’s not every day that two of the most powerful figures in the criminal underworld show up for a parent-teacher conference.

As you approach Ms. Thompson’s classroom, Jules turns to you both. “Best behavior, okay?” He says seriously, wagging a finger at you. “No fighting, no threatening, and absolutely no talk about the family business.”

You and Charles exchange an amused glance. “Yes, sir,” Charles says solemnly. “We promise to be on our best behavior.”

Jules nods, satisfied, then knocks on the classroom door before scurrying away to meet up with his friends.

Ms. Thompson, a kind-faced woman in her forties, opens the door with a warm smile. “Ah, the Leclercs! Please, come in.”

As you enter the classroom, you can’t help but scan for potential threats — an old habit that’s hard to break. Charles notices and gives you a gentle nudge, a silent reminder to relax.

“Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Ms. Thompson says, gesturing for you to sit. “Jules talks about you all the time.”

You exchange a slightly worried glance with Charles. “All good things, I hope,” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

Ms. Thompson laughs. “Oh, mostly. Though I must admit, some of his stories are quite ... imaginative.”

Charles leans forward, curiosity piqued. “Oh? Like what?”

“Well,” Ms. Thompson says, a twinkle in her eye, “there was the time he told the class that his parents once fought off a rival family with nothing but a butter knife and a bottle of expensive champagne.”

You cough, trying to hide your surprise. That particular story wasn’t as exaggerated as Ms. Thompson probably believed. Charles, meanwhile, looks entirely too amused.

“Kids and their imaginations,” he says smoothly. “Though I must say, that does sound like an exciting dinner party.”

Ms. Thompson chuckles. “Indeed. But let’s focus on Jules’ academic progress, shall we?”

As she begins to go through Jules’ work, showing you his assignments and discussing his strengths and areas for improvement, you find yourself relaxing. Jules is doing well — excelling, even — and Ms. Thompson seems genuinely fond of him.

“He’s a bright boy,” she says warmly. “Very curious and always eager to learn. He does have a tendency to ... embellish his stories during show and tell, but his creativity is truly remarkable.”

You nod, a surge of pride washing over you. “That’s our Jules,” you say softly, glancing at Charles. His eyes are shining with the same pride and love you feel.

Ms. Thompson hesitates for a moment, then continues. “There is one small concern I wanted to discuss with you both.”

You tense immediately, your hand instinctively moving towards your concealed knife. Charles notices and quickly places his hand over yours, shooting you a warning look.

“What kind of concern?” He asks smoothly, while keeping a firm grip on your hand.

Ms. Thompson looks slightly nervous, but presses on. “Well, Jules has been ... rather interested in weapons lately. He’s been drawing quite detailed pictures of various firearms and knives. While his artistic skills are impressive, I’m a bit worried about the subject matter.”

You and Charles exchange a look. This is exactly the kind of situation you’d been afraid of — how do you explain that weapons are simply a part of your daily life without revealing too much?

Charles clears his throat. “Ah, yes. Well, you see, my wife and I are ... collectors. Of antique weapons. It’s a family hobby, you might say. Jules must have seen some of our pieces.”

You nod quickly, grateful for Charles’ quick thinking. “Exactly. We’ll have a talk with him about appropriate subjects for school, of course.”

Ms. Thompson looks relieved. “Oh, I see. That explains it. Yes, a talk about school-appropriate topics would be wonderful. Other than that, Jules is a joy to have in class.”

As the conference wraps up, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. You managed to get through it without any threats or revelations about your true profession. Charles seems equally relieved as you say your goodbyes and head out to collect Jules from the playground.

Once you’re back in the car, Jules in the backseat, he leans forward eagerly. “Well? How did it go? Did I do okay?”

You turn in your seat to face him, your heart swelling with love. “You did more than okay, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you.”

Charles nods in agreement. “That’s right, mon chou. Though we do need to have a little chat about those weapon drawings ...”

Jules has the grace to look sheepish. “Oops. Sorry about that. I just thought they were cool.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. Just ... maybe stick to drawing cars or dinosaurs at school, okay?”

As you drive home, Jules chattering away in the backseat, you reach over and take Charles’ hand. He glances at you, a soft smile on his face.

“We did it,” you murmur. “No threats, no violence, not even a single mention of sleeping with the fishes.”

Charles chuckles, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m impressed. Though I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing you go all mama bear.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “There’s always next time,” you say with a wink.

As you pull into the driveway of your home, you can’t help but marvel at how much your life has changed. From reluctant bride to devoted wife and mother, from cold-hearted mafia princess to ... well, an only slightly less cold-hearted mafia queen.

But looking at Charles and Jules, you wouldn’t have it any other way. This beautiful, chaotic, sometimes dangerous life you’ve built together — it’s more than you ever dared to dream of.

And if anyone tries to threaten this happiness? Well, you still know how to use that knife in your boot. Some things never change, after all.

***

Sarah Dumas nervously adjusts her cardigan as she enters the school gymnasium for the monthly PTA meeting. Even after three years, she still feels out of place among the other parents. Her eyes scan the room, landing on the couple that always draws everyone’s attention: Charles and Y/N Leclerc.

They stand near the refreshment table, an island of elegance and barely contained danger in a sea of suburban normalcy. Charles, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, laughs at something you’ve said, his hand resting casually on the small of your back. You, for your part, look like you’ve just stepped off a runway, your designer outfit a stark contrast to the mom jeans and polos that dominate the room.

Sarah edges closer, trying to catch snippets of the conversation.

“Mon amour,” Charles is saying, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I still think my idea for the fundraiser was brilliant.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s fondness in your expression. “Charles, we’ve been over this. We can’t auction off ‘A Day in the Life of a Mafia Boss’ as a school fundraiser.”

“Why not?” Charles pouts playfully. “I’d even throw in a complimentary lesson in money laundering. Think of the educational value!”

Sarah’s eyes widen. Surely they must be joking. Right?

Before she can ponder it further, the PTA president, Marie Fournier, calls the meeting to order. As everyone takes their seats, Sarah finds herself next to Beth, another mom she’s friendly with.

“Can you believe them?” Beth whispers, nodding towards the Leclercs. “They always act like they own the place.”

Sarah shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “They’re ... certainly unique.”

Beth snorts. “That’s one way to put it. Did you hear about what happened at the last bake sale?”

Sarah shakes her head, leaning in eagerly.

“Well,” Beth continues, her voice low, “apparently, Mrs. Leclerc’s lemon bars were so good that Mr. Peterson from the school board accused her of cheating. Next thing you know, Mr. Leclerc has him cornered, whispering something about ‘sleeping with the fishes’ if he ever insulted his wife’s baking again!”

Sarah gasps. “No! What happened?”

Beth grins. “Mr. Peterson went white as a sheet and bought every single lemon bar. Paid triple the asking price, too.”

Their gossip is interrupted as Marie starts discussing the upcoming spring carnival. “Now, we still need volunteers for the dunk tank ...”

To everyone’s surprise, Charles’ hand shoots up. “I’ll do it,” he says, flashing a charming smile.

Marie blinks, clearly taken aback. “Oh, um, thank you, Mr. Leclerc. That’s very ... generous of you.”

You lean over to Charles, whispering something that makes him chuckle. Sarah strains to hear, catching only fragments: “... better than the time in Majorca ... at least this time you’ll be expecting the water ...”

The meeting continues, with discussions about budget allocation, new playground equipment, and the eternal debate over chocolate versus vanilla for the ice cream social. Throughout it all, Sarah can’t help but notice how the Leclercs seem to operate on a different wavelength from everyone else.

When the topic of security for the carnival comes up, you speak up for the first time. “I have some ... associates who would be happy to help out. Free of charge, of course.”

Marie looks both relieved and slightly terrified. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Leclerc. Are these associates ... qualified?”

You smile, a predatory gleam in your eye. “Oh, trust me. They’re very qualified in handling ... difficult situations.”

Charles coughs, poorly disguising a laugh. “What my wife means is that they’re experienced in crowd control and conflict resolution.”

The other parents exchange nervous glances, but no one dares to question further.

As the meeting wraps up, Sarah finds herself lingering, oddly fascinated by the Leclercs. She watches as they approach Marie, speaking in low tones. Marie’s eyes widen, and she nods vigorously before scurrying away.

Curiosity gets the better of Sarah, and she edges closer, pretending to study the snack table.

“... really, mon cœur,” Charles is saying, “you didn’t have to threaten her kneecaps.”

You shrug, a small smirk playing on your lips. “It worked, didn’t it? Now Jules’ class will get that field trip to the science museum he’s been asking for.”

Charles shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re a menace. What am I going to do with you?”

“You love it,” you reply, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Sarah fumbles with a paper cup, causing it to clatter to the floor. The Leclercs turn, fixing her with twin looks of amusement.

“Enjoying the refreshments, Mrs. Dumas?” Charles asks smoothly.

Sarah feels her face heat up. “I, um, yes. The cookies are lovely.”

You step forward, your movements graceful and somehow predatory. “Sarah, isn’t it? Jules has mentioned your daughter, Emma. They’re in the same class, right?”

Sarah nods, surprised and a little flattered that you know this. “Yes, that’s right. Emma talks about Jules all the time. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

Charles beams with pride. “He takes after his mother,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You roll your eyes but lean into his touch. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Leclerc.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Sarah realizes she should probably say something. “So, um, how are you finding the PTA? It must be quite different from ... well, from what you’re used to.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, Sarah wants to kick herself. What was she thinking?

To her relief, the Leclercs just laugh. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” you say, a twinkle in your eye. “Managing a group of passionate parents isn’t all that different from managing our ... family businesses.”

Charles nods sagely. “Though I must say, the stakes here can be even higher. You should have seen the great Cupcake Debacle of 2032.”

Sarah finds herself relaxing, drawn in by their easy charm. “Oh? What happened?”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Let’s just say it involved three kinds of frosting, a rogue flamingo, and a very creative use for a fire extinguisher.”

Sarah bursts out laughing, surprising herself. As intimidating as the Leclercs can be, there’s something undeniably magnetic about them.

Just then, Beth appears at Sarah’s elbow. “Sarah, we should get going. Carpool, remember?”

Sarah nods, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. “Of course. It was nice talking to you, Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”

Charles flashes that devastating smile again. “The pleasure was all ours. Oh, and Sarah?”

She turns back, curious. “Yes?”

“Do make sure to bring Emma to the carnival. I have a feeling the dunk tank is going to be ... quite the spectacle this year.”

As Sarah walks away with Beth, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just had a brush with something both thrilling and dangerous.

Beth, meanwhile, is practically vibrating with curiosity. “What were you talking about with them? Did they say anything ... weird?”

Sarah considers for a moment. “Not really. They seem ... nice, actually. A bit eccentric, maybe, but nice.”

Beth looks skeptical. “Nice? Sarah, last week Mr. Leclerc showed up to career day and gave a presentation on ‘The Art of Negotiation’. Half the kids looked terrified, and the other half wanted to sign up for internships!”

Sarah can’t help but laugh. “Well, at least it was memorable. And you have to admit, they’ve done wonders for the school’s fundraising efforts.”

Beth nods grudgingly. “True. Though I’m not entirely sure where all that money is coming from ...”

As they reach Beth’s minivan, Sarah glances back at the school. She catches a glimpse of the Leclercs through a window, heads bent close together, clearly deep in conversation. There’s an intensity to their body language that makes Sarah’s breath catch.

For a moment, she allows herself to imagine what their life must be like outside of PTA meetings and school functions. The glamor, the danger, the passion ... it’s all so far removed from her own suburban existence.

But then Beth honks the horn, jolting Sarah back to reality. With a small sigh, she climbs into the van, ready to return to her normal life of carpools and casseroles.

As they drive away, Sarah can’t help but think that the spring carnival is going to be very interesting indeed. And despite herself, she’s looking forward to it more than she’d care to admit.

Over the next few weeks, preparations for the carnival kick into high gear. Sarah finds herself volunteering more than usual, partly out of genuine enthusiasm and partly (though she would never admit it) to catch more glimpses of the enigmatic Leclercs.

The day of the carnival dawns bright and clear. Sarah arrives early to help set up, her arms full of homemade cupcakes. As she approaches the school grounds, she nearly drops her baked goods in shock.

The usually modest school field has been transformed into something out of a movie. There are professional-grade rides, gourmet food stalls, and even a small Ferris wheel. And is that ... a chocolate fountain?

“Impressive, isn’t it?” A familiar voice says behind her.

Sarah turns to see Charles Leclerc, looking impossibly dashing in casual wear that probably costs more than her monthly mortgage payment.

“Mr. Leclerc! This is ... wow. How did you manage all this?”

Charles winks conspiratorially. “Let’s just say I called in a few favors. And please, call me Charles.”

Before Sarah can respond, you appear at Charles’ side, looking stunning in a sundress that’s both elegant and practical. “Darling, everything’s set up. Oh, hello Sarah. Those cupcakes look delicious.”

Sarah blushes under your scrutiny. “Thank you, Mrs. Lecl- I mean, Y/N. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

You smile, and for a moment, Sarah forgets to breathe. “I’m sure they’re wonderful. Why don’t you bring them over to the bake sale table? I hear Mr. Peterson has already reserved half of them.”

As Sarah walks away, she overhears Charles murmuring to you, “Did you really have to station Dmitri and the boys at every entrance?”

“Better safe than sorry,” you reply. “Besides, they’re under strict orders. No weapons, no intimidation, and absolutely no business talk around the children.”

Sarah shakes her head, convincing herself she must have misheard. Surely you’re talking about regular security guards. Right?

The carnival is a roaring success. Children laugh and scream with delight on the rides, parents chat over gourmet hors d’oeuvres, and there’s a general air of festivity that Sarah has never seen at a school event before.

But the real highlight, as promised, is the dunk tank. Charles takes his place on the seat, looking for all the world like he’s about to attend a board meeting rather than be dunked in water. You stand nearby, a mischievous glint in your eye as you buy a stack of balls.

“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen!” Charles calls out, his voice carrying across the field. “Who wants to dunk the dashing Mr. Leclerc? All proceeds go to the school’s new science lab!”

A crowd gathers, equal parts amused and intimidated. Sarah watches as you take aim, a look of intense concentration on your face.

“Come on, mon chèrie,” Charles taunts playfully. “Surely the feared Y/N Leclerc can hit a simple target?”

Your eyes narrow. “Oh, it’s on.”

The ball flies true, hitting the target dead center. Charles barely has time to look surprised before he plunges into the water. The crowd erupts in cheers and laughter.

When Charles resurfaces, he’s laughing too. “Well played. Well played indeed.”

As the day winds down, Sarah finds herself helping with clean-up, still buzzing from the excitement. She overhears snippets of conversation from other parents, all marveling at the success of the event.

“I heard they quadrupled the fundraising goal ...”

“Did you see those security guards? They looked like they could bench-press a car ...”

“I swear I saw Mrs. Leclerc talking to the Mayor. Since when do we have connections like that?”

Sarah smiles to herself, realizing that while the Leclercs may not fit the typical PTA mold, they’ve brought something special to their little community. Something exciting, glamorous, and yes, maybe a little dangerous.

As she’s about to leave, she spots the Leclercs by their sleek Ferrari. They’re wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to the world around them. The look they share is so full of love and passion that Sarah has to look away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment.

Driving home, Sarah reflects on the day. She still can’t quite put her finger on what makes the Leclercs so different, so intriguing. But she knows one thing for certain: life has become a lot more interesting since their son joined the school.

And as she pulls into her driveway, Sarah finds herself looking forward to the next PTA meeting more than she ever thought possible. After all, who knows what the Leclercs will come up with next?

***

Nurse Marion Bouchard has seen her fair share of unusual deliveries in her 15 years at the Princess Grace Hospital Centre, but nothing could have prepared her for the arrival of the Leclerc baby.

It starts with the mysterious men in dark suits who seem to materialize out of nowhere, clearing out an entire wing of the maternity ward. Marion watches, wide-eyed, as they sweep the rooms for ... something. Bugs? Bombs? She isn’t sure she wants to know.

“Excuse me,” she finally musters the courage to approach one of them. “What’s going on here?”

The man turns, his expression impassive behind dark sunglasses. “Security measures. The Leclercs are arriving.”

Before Marion can ask more, a commotion at the end of the hall catches her attention. A striking couple bursts through the doors, surrounded by more suited men. The woman is clearly in labor, but looks more annoyed than pained.

“I swear to God, Charles,” you are saying through gritted teeth, “when this is over, I’m going to make you regret ever looking at me without a condom.”

The man looks both terrified and amused. “Mon amour, you say the sweetest things.”

Dr. Evans, the head of obstetrics, rushes forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, welcome. We have everything prepared-”

You cut him off with a glare that could melt steel. “Less talking, more drugs. Now.”

Marion finds herself assigned to your care team, helping you into a private suite that looks more like a five-star hotel room than a hospital. As she hooks up the fetal monitor, she can’t help but notice the way Charles hovers, his eyes constantly scanning the room for threats.

“Is this your first child?” Marion asks, trying to break the tension.

You laugh, a sound somewhere between amusement and pain. “Second. Our son, Jules, is at home with his grandfather. Probably learning how to properly strangle someone as we speak.”

Marion’s eyes widen, and she lets out a nervous chuckle, unsure if you are joking.

Charles steps in smoothly. “What my lovely wife means is that Jules is likely being spoiled rotten with ice cream and cartoons.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that. Now, where are those damn drugs?”

As if on cue, the anesthesiologist enters. Marion notices how one of the suited men outside tenses, hand moving to his jacket, before relaxing at a subtle nod from Charles.

Hours pass, and Marion finds herself more and more fascinated by the Leclercs. Despite the pain of labor, you maintain a razor-sharp wit, alternating between threats to Charles’ manhood and startlingly accurate assessments of hospital security protocols.

“You know,” you pant during a particularly strong contraction, “if you really loved me, you’d let me stab you just a little. It’s only fair.”

Charles, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He just strokes your hair and says, “How about we save the stabbing for our anniversary? As is tradition.”

Marion’s head whips around, but both of you are grinning at each other like it’s some private joke.

As the labor progresses, Marion can’t shake the feeling that something is ... off about the Leclercs. It isn’t just the excessive security or the luxurious accommodations. There is an undercurrent of danger, of barely contained power, that both thrills and terrifies her.

During a quiet moment, while you doze between contractions, Marion’s curiosity gets the better of her. “Mr. Leclerc,” she whispers, “if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you do?”

Charles smiles enigmatically. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mainly, I specialize in ... problem-solving.”

Before Marion can probe further, you jolt awake with a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

“Charles,” you growl, “I swear on all that is holy, if you don’t get this baby out of me in the next five minutes, I will personally ensure that there will be no more little Leclercs.”

Charles pales slightly but maintains his composure. “Now, mon ange, let’s not be hasty. Remember São Paulo? This is nothing compared to that.”

You glare at him. “São Paulo didn’t involve pushing a human being out of my-”

“Okay!” Marion interjects quickly. “Let’s check your progress, shall we?”

As she examines you, Marion can’t help but wonder what on earth had happened in São Paulo. She has a feeling she is better off not knowing.

The next few hours are a blur of activity. You prove to be as fierce in childbirth as you apparently are in ... whatever it is you do outside the hospital. Marion loses count of the creative threats and punishments you devise for Charles, each more outlandish than the last.

“When this is over,” you pant, pushing with all your might, “I’m going to tie you to a chair and make you listen to Baby Shark on repeat for 24 hours straight.”

Charles winces. “Isn’t that a bit extreme? What happened to the good old days of cement shoes and sleeping with the fishes?”

Dr. Evans, who is positioned at the foot of the bed, looks up with a mixture of concern and confusion. “Mr. Leclerc, I’m not sure-”

“It’s a joke,” Charles says quickly. “An inside joke. From our ... cooking class.”

Marion exchanges a glance with Dr. Evans. Cooking class? Sure.

Finally, with one last heroic push and a string of curses that Marion is certain are in at least five different languages, your daughter enters the world.

The room falls silent for a moment, then fills with the strong, angry cries of a newborn who seems to have inherited her mother’s spirit.

“She’s beautiful,” Charles whispers, tears in his eyes as he cuts the umbilical cord.

You collapse back onto the pillows, exhausted but triumphant. “Of course she is. She’s ours.”

As Marion helps clean and weigh the baby, she can’t help but notice how the atmosphere in the room has changed. The danger and tension that had been simmering beneath the surface all day seem to evaporate, replaced by a bubble of pure love and joy.

Charles cradles his daughter gently, looking at her with a mixture of awe and terror. “Hello, little one,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. I promise to always protect you, even if it means hiding bodies in the- I mean, even if it means staying up all night to chase away the monsters under your bed.”

You roll your eyes but smile softly. “Nice save. Now, give me my daughter before I have to get up and take her from you.”

As Charles places the baby in your arms, Marion feels like she is intruding on something incredibly intimate and precious. The way you look at each other, at your child, speaks of a bond that goes far beyond anything she’s ever witnessed.

“So,” Marion ventures, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, “have you decided on a name?”

You and Charles share a look, having one of those silent conversations that only couples who are completely in sync can have.

“Vittoria,” you say finally. “Vittoria Leclerc.”

“It means victory in Italian,” Charles explains, his voice filled with pride. “Because she’s already conquered our hearts.”

Marion smiles, charmed despite herself. “That’s beautiful. And very fitting, considering how fiercely she entered the world.”

You grin, a hint of your earlier fire returning. “Just wait until she’s older. She’ll be ruling the family busi- I mean, family game night in no time.”

As Marion finishes up her duties and prepares to leave the new family alone, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just been part of something extraordinary. The Leclercs are unlike any couple she’s ever met, a whirlwind of passion, danger, and now, an overwhelming love for their children.

Just as she is about to exit, Charles calls out to her. “Nurse Bouchard?”

She turns, curious. “Yes, Mr. Leclerc?”

He fixes her with a penetrating gaze that makes her feel like he can see right through her. “We appreciate your discretion in this matter. The Leclerc family values privacy above all else.”

Marion swallows hard, suddenly very aware of the armed men still stationed outside the door. “Of course, Mr. Leclerc. Patient confidentiality is paramount in our profession.”

You chime in, your voice deceptively sweet. “And we’re so grateful for that. It would be such a shame if anything were to ... compromise that confidentiality. Don’t you agree, Charles?”

Charles nods, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Absolutely, mon cœur. A real tragedy.”

Marion feels a chill run down her spine. “I ... I understand. You can trust me completely.”

As Marion leaves the room, her head spinning, she can’t help but wonder what she’s gotten herself into. The Leclercs are clearly more than they appear, your world so far removed from her own that she can barely comprehend it.

But as she glances back one last time, seeing Charles press a tender kiss to your forehead while you cradle little Vittoria, she realizes that at your core, you are just like any other family. Loving, protective, and perhaps a little bit dangerous.

***

Stefan Wheeler wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans for the hundredth time as he stands before the imposing gates of the Leclerc estate. At 17, he thought he was prepared for anything, but meeting his girlfriend Vittoria’s family is proving to be more nerve-wracking than he’d anticipated.

“Relax,” Vittoria says, squeezing his hand. “They’re going to love you.”

Stefan nods, not entirely convinced. “Right. It’s just ... your family seems ... intense.”

Vittoria laughs, a sound that usually makes Stefan’s heart soar but now only heightens his anxiety. “Oh, you have no idea.”

As they approach the front door, it swings open before they can knock. A tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing eyes stands there, his gaze immediately zeroing in on Stefan.

“Ah, you must be the boy,” he says, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of... something Stefan can’t quite place.

Vittoria rolls her eyes. “Papa, be nice. This is Stefan. Stefan, this is my father, Charles Leclerc.”

Stefan extends his hand, hoping it isn’t visibly shaking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Leclerc.”

Charles takes Stefan’s hand, his grip firm to the point of being painful. “Charmed, I’m sure. Please, come in. The family is eager to meet you.”

As they enter the foyer, Stefan’s eyes widen. The interior of the house is a strange blend of opulent luxury and what looks like ... medieval weaponry? He could have sworn he saw a battle axe mounted on one wall.

Before he can process this, a whirlwind of energy enters the room. You sweep in with a grace that seems almost predatory.

“So this is the famous Stefan,” you say, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Stefan swallows hard. “All good things, I hope.”

You tilt your head, studying him intently. “Oh, Vittoria’s been very ... discreet. But we have our ways of finding out information.”

Charles chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Don’t terrify the boy just yet. We haven’t even made it to the dining room.”

Stefan laughs nervously, unsure if that is meant to be a joke.

Just then, a young man who could only be Vittoria’s older brother, Jules, saunters in. He is the spitting image of Charles, with an air of danger that makes Stefan want to take a step back.

“Well, well,” Jules drawls, circling Stefan like a shark. “So you’re the one who thinks he’s good enough for our Vittoria.”

Vittoria groans. “Jules, knock it off. You promised to behave.”

Jules grins, all teeth. “I am behaving. I haven’t even shown him my knife collection yet.”

Stefan’s eyes widen. “Knife ... collection?”

Charles claps his hands together. “Shall we move to the dining room? I’m sure our guest is hungry after his ... journey here.”

As they walk, Stefan can’t shake the feeling that he is being herded like prey. The dining room is as impressive as the rest of the house, with a table that could easily seat twenty.

“Please, sit,” Charles says, gesturing to a chair. Stefan notices it is positioned so that his back is to the door, while the Leclercs have clear sightlines to all exits.

As they settle in, you ring a small bell. Almost instantly, servers appear with plates of food that look and smell incredible.

“I hope you like Italian,” you say, your tone making it clear that not liking it isn’t an option.

Stefan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yes, I love it. This looks amazing, Mrs. Leclerc.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Please, call me Y/N. Mrs. Leclerc makes me sound so ... old.”

Charles smirks. “You’re as youthful and deadly as the day I met you, mon cœur.”

Stefan blinks, sure he must have misheard. Deadly?

As they begin to eat, the interrogation starts in earnest.

“So, Stefan,” Charles says, twirling pasta around his fork with practiced ease. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

Stefan nearly chokes on his food. “I ... uh ... we’re just dating, sir. Getting to know each other.”

Jules leans forward, his eyes glinting. “And how exactly are you getting to know her?”

“Jules!” Vittoria hisses, her cheeks flushing.

You interject smoothly. “What my son means is, what do you two do for fun?”

Stefan relaxes slightly. This, he can handle. “Oh, we go to the movies, hang out at the mall, normal stuff. Vittoria’s been teaching me how to play chess.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Chess? Interesting choice. Tell me, Stefan, do you know the importance of strategy? Of always being three moves ahead of your opponent?”

Stefan nods, confused by the intensity of Charles’ gaze. “Uh, yes. Vittoria’s been explaining that to me.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning back. “That’s a valuable skill in ... many areas of life.”

The conversation continues, with each question feeling more like a trap than casual dinner talk. Stefan finds himself constantly on edge, trying to decipher the hidden meanings behind each seemingly innocent inquiry.

“What do your parents do, Stefan?” You ask, sipping what Stefan is pretty sure isn’t just water.

“My dad is an accountant and my mom’s a teacher,” Stefan replies.

Jules snorts. “How quaint. And what do you want to do with your life?”

Stefan straightens, feeling a bit more confident. “I’m actually really interested in law enforcement. I’m thinking of applying to the police academy after college.”

The room goes eerily silent. Stefan looks around, confused by the sudden tension.

Charles breaks the silence with a laugh that sounds only slightly forced. “Law enforcement? How ... admirable. You know, Stefan, there are many ways to uphold justice in this world. Some more effective than others.”

You nod, a strange glint in your eye. “Indeed. Sometimes the law needs a little ... help to get things done.”

Stefan shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I ... I’m not sure I understand.”

Vittoria jumps in, clearly trying to change the subject. “Stefan’s also really into martial arts, Papa. He’s been teaching me some self-defense moves.”

This seems to pique Charles’ interest. “Is that so? Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate after dinner, Stefan. I’m always interested in ... new techniques.”

The way Charles says it makes Stefan feel like he is missing some crucial subtext.

As the meal progresses, Stefan can’t shake the feeling that he is being tested. Every question, every glance exchanged between family members, seems loaded with hidden meaning.

When dessert is served — a delicious tiramisu that Stefan is almost too nervous to enjoy — Jules leans forward with a predatory grin.

“So, Stefan,” he says, his voice deceptively casual. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to make someone ... disappear?”

Stefan blinks, sure he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

Vittoria groans. “Jules, stop it.”

You intervene smoothly. “What my son means is, have you ever thought about the complexities of witness protection programs? It’s fascinating how someone can just ... vanish and start a new life.”

Charles nods sagely. “Indeed. The ability to reinvent oneself is a valuable skill in today’s world.”

Stefan nods slowly, feeling like he is missing some crucial piece of information. “I ... suppose so. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

As the meal winds down, Stefan feels like he’s run a mental marathon. Every interaction with the Leclercs leaves him slightly off-balance, as if there were entire conversations happening just beneath the surface that he can’t quite grasp.

Charles stands, clapping his hands together. “Well, this has been delightful. Stefan, why don’t you join me in my study for a nightcap?”

Vittoria starts to protest, but you cut her off with a look. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Jules, why don’t you help me and Vittoria clear the table?”

As Stefan follows Charles down a long hallway, he can’t shake the feeling that he is walking into the lion’s den. The study, when they enter, is a mix of old-world charm and modern technology. Bookshelves line the walls, but Stefan notices some titles that seem ... unusual for a family library. “Advanced Interrogation Techniques?” “Undetectable Poisons Throughout History?”

Charles gestures for Stefan to sit in a plush leather chair, then pours two glasses of amber liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Now, Stefan,” Charles says, his voice low and intense. “Let’s talk about what it really means to be part of the Leclerc family.”

Stefan swallows hard, suddenly very aware of how alone he is with this imposing man. “Sir?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes boring into Stefan’s. “Our family has ... certain traditions. Certain expectations. Dating a Leclerc isn’t like dating any other girl. Do you understand?”

Stefan nods slowly, though he isn’t sure he understands at all. “I ... I really care about Vittoria, Mr. Leclerc. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

Charles’ smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Because if you did ...” He lets the sentence hang in the air, the threat clear even if unspoken.

Just then, the door bursts open, and you stride in, looking exasperated. “Charles, are you terrorizing the poor boy?”

Charles leans back, the picture of innocence. “Not at all, mon amour. We were just having a friendly chat.”

You roll your eyes, but there is fondness in your expression. “Well, I think Stefan’s had enough friendly chats for one evening. Vittoria’s waiting to say goodnight.”

As you walk Stefan to the door, he feels like he’s survived some sort of elaborate test. The Leclercs gather around, their smiles a mix of warmth and warning.

“It was lovely to meet you, Stefan,” you say, your tone making it clear that lovely might be an overstatement.

Jules claps him on the back, perhaps a bit harder than necessary. “Yeah, kid. You’re not half bad. For a civilian.”

Stefan blinks, confused. “Civilian?”

Charles steps in smoothly. “What my son means is, for someone outside our ... close-knit family circle. We look forward to seeing more of you, Stefan.”

As Vittoria walks him to his car, Stefan’s head is spinning. “Your family is ... intense,” he manages.

Vittoria laughs. “I know. They can be a lot. But they mean well. Mostly.”

Stefan nods, still trying to process everything. “They’re not ... I mean, they don’t actually ...”

Vittoria raises an eyebrow. “Don’t actually what?”

Stefan shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s crazy. I just ... for a minute there, I almost thought ...” He trails off, laughing nervously.

Vittoria’s smile is enigmatic. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably best not to say it out loud. Plausible deniability and all that.”

As Stefan drives home, his mind races with questions. What has he gotten himself into? Who are the Leclercs, really? And why does he have the unsettling feeling that dating Vittoria might be the most dangerous thing he’s ever done?

One thing is certain: the Leclercs are unlike any family he’s ever met.

[yuujispinkhair]

okay questionable thoughts… Hybrid Tiger Sukuna… But… what if we gave him catnip? Cus I’ve seen videos of it working on tigers and I’m a bit cray cray-

Oh nooo!!! This drives me all kinds of FERAL!! I wrote the following in a horny daze lmaoo. I would give so much to be Tiger Hybrid Sukuna's owner who gets that gorgeous tiger-cock ;) Thank you so much for sending me this!!

Tiger Hybrid!Sukuna x Reader (female). 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, mentions of breeding + risk of pregnancy if reader gives Sukuna more catnip in the future, dubcon on both sides, drugs. Minors don't interact. Divider @/hitobaby

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is usually so in control, acting all aloof and majestic. But you give him catnip, and he loses all that control. You thought it would be cute to see him loosen up and become more playful, but you didn't expect him to become so wild.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who tackles you to the floor with a needy growl. Who presses you down with his heavy body, his large tail swishing from side to side excitedly, his pupils blown wide, his hot spit dripping down onto your neck. And his large bulge growing hard against your ass.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who loses his ability to talk in the state he is in now and just growls and purrs while he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, his lips and tongue and sharp canines leaving their marks on your skin while he ruts against you, needy like never before.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who scares you a bit when he goes crazy like that. This big, strong half-tiger, with those strong muscles and the sharp teeth and claws. And with that huge, strong cock. But your fear mixes with arousal, and you find yourself hoping your tiger will claim you thoroughly tonight.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who isn't even in the right mind to undress you but just tears at his and your clothes, ripping them to shreds in his primal need to mount you.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pushes his hot, fat cock between your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal, grunting and growling wildly against your neck while he ruts his throbbing tiger-cock against your heated cunt.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who bites your neck when he pushes his leaking cock into your dripping cunt, groaning loudly against your skin, instantly starting a punishing rough pace of fucking you. Mounting you so wild and hard right there on the floor.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is so sexy like that, out of control, wild and feral like never before. More animal than man. Who snaps his hips fast and erratically, purely driven by his animal instinct to fuck and breed and fill a mate with his potent seed.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who holds you down and keeps his teeth on your neck while he fucks all his tiger-cum deep into you. Growling loudly while he mates you as if you are his fertile tigress.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who makes you lose control, too, pushing your ass needily against him, wanting all his hot seed and the feel of his heavy balls slapping against you. Making you squeal loudly when you cum all over his fat tiger-cock.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pulls out of you with a low groan and then kneels on the floor behind you with a blissed-out expression on his beautiful face, not as feral anymore but still high on the catnip. His gorgeous cock softening but still glistening with your creamy juices and his milky seed, his dark pink tip still swollen.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, whose whole muscular body trembles lightly as the effects of the catnip wear off. Whose long, pretty tail is twitching suddenly when those glowing red eyes bore into yours with a dangerous glint in them.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who growls at you, "Never do that again!" And when you ask him why, he glares at you and is like, "Because who knows what I'll do next time. Maybe I'll breed you until you have my cubs."

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who calms down again when you tell him you are ok, and he didn't hurt you. Who finally purrs when you scratch him behind his ears and at the base of his pretty tiger tail and promise him that you won't give him catnip ever again, even though you quite enjoyed his wild side.

[girlkisser13]

young justice masterlist

artemis crock. artemis. tigress.

conner kent. kon-el. superboy.

kaldur’ahm. aqualad. aquaman.

megan morse. m’gann m’orzz. miss martian.

richard "dick" grayson. robin. nightwing.

wallace "wally" west. kid flash.

zatanna zatara

multiple

the young justice characters’ favorite ways to kiss you

[radio-fmm]

Dear Luffy

Luffy x fem!reader

2k words, sfw

Sanji finds out about your crush on Luffy, would he be able to keep the secret?

Masterlist | Pt. 2

Sanji’s heart dropped to the depths of his stomach as he stood still in the middle of your room, a piece of paper in his hands

Truth was he didn’t wanted to be in this position, as incriminating as it looked

You had lost your glasses that morning. You had been looking everywhere but to no avail, the task becoming quite difficult without them too. Of course Sanji being the gentleman he is, offered to help you look starting with your bedroom

Big mistake

His eyes bore at the letter in his hands that had wrinkled under his unrelenting hold. Luffy’s name spelled at the top with dear attached to it with your handwriting makes his eyes drop out of his skull

You like Luffy?

Of course you do, Sanji then recalls all those times you decided to stay up later to accompany him on his night watches so he ‘wouldn’t fall asleep’ face beaming. How you were always, without a doubt, the first to jump on his crazy ideas and adventures. All of the times he had catch you sneaking around the kitchen late at night, only to then find out that Luffy send you for snacks for him to eat knowing he wasn’t allowed. That look of adoration he’ll catch in your eyes when looking up at your Captain

It was unmistakable

“Sanji! I found them!” - Your voice echoed trough the hallway and the cook curses, without missing any more seconds he hides the letter on its rightful place under your pillow and drops to his knees, hopefully he’ll look as if he was innocently searching under your bed he didn’t

The sound of the doorknob followed by his name makes the blood rush to his ears, heart thrumming in his chest as he prays he can meet your eyes like a normal person, trying not to think about the huge secret he just read about

“Thank god my darling!” He gets up at the speed of light, he’s surprised he didn’t passed out from the harsh movement

Immediately you feel something is wrong

Sanji stands in the middle of your room, eyes darting in every direction, clammy hands fiddling with his cigarette, a nervous smile on his features

“Are you ok San-“

“Fantastic! Why wouldn’t I be?-“ Slowly and desperately, the blonde makes his way out of your room, fumbling every step and almost falling along with your dresser that was tucked on the corner of the place -“Anyway, I gotta go back to the kitchen, dinner won’t cook itself!”

Finally he reaches the handle and disappears, his heart pounding and mouth dry

“Nami was right, he’s kinda weird…”

Shit shit shit, he feelt dirty, invading a ladys privacy like that? Unforgivable. What panicked him the most tho, was not what he knew or how he found out, no no no

It was the fact that he knows he won’t be able to shut his mouth about it. Sanji is a bad liar, specially lying to beautiful ladies, and as it turns, there’s 2 very much noisy ladies aboard The Sunny

Shit

His mind in a reverie, shaky slender fingers scavenging for another cigarette as he made a bee-line to the kitchen

“Mr. cook” Robins calls, echoing trough Sanji’s head, a shiver running down his spine as he looks up to her, head resting on her palm, prying eyes examining his every move

“Oh! Tigress, didn’t see you there” he fakes a smile as better as he can, hoping she wouldn’t ask any questions

“Did y/n find her glasses?” There’s a squint, very small and almost undetectable when she mentions you, waiting for a reaction from the poor blonde cook

He sweats, heavily “Ah yes! She did” a painfully fake giggle scapes his mouth along with the smoke he was keeping in. They both stare at each other, as if waiting for someone to do or say anything… after a while Sanji excuses himself to the kitchen, knowing he’ll be safe once he steps in

Very loud, very incorrect buzzer

His relief is short lived as he enters the kitchen and he catches a glimpse of Nami. She was working on some maps, ponytail and glasses on sketching the day away. Sanji’s blood runs cold

You see, there’s a difference between being questioned by Robin and being questioned by Nami, the latter lacking as certain touch when it comes to her words… and being the queen of noisy

“Nami swan” he drags the last word as in disbelief, she has never in the time they had sailed, worked on her maps in any other place that isn’t her office

The navigator’s head snaps. Completely unaware of the panic petrifying him at the entrance “Oh hey Sanji! The sun hits the kitchen at this hour, better light” she points to her work before getting back to it

Surely he could make it right? Cook for the whole crew without spilling a syllable of what he had read, sounds easy enough

Again, very loud incorrect buzzer

“LUFFY?” Nami’s voice echoes trough the walls, her maps long forgotten as the poor poor cook stood mortified in front of the half cubed vegetables for the soup he was planning to do

Turns out the navigator was far more preceptive than he thought. Sanji was reciting every single detail of what happened within 30 minutes of him just smoking like a psycho and cutting vegetables in terrible cubes

“You can’t tell anyone! She would never forgive me for accidentally snooping around” he begs, resuming his meal prep

“Whatever, that’s not the important part! We have to do something with this” she presses the matter with wide eyes

“No”

“Yes!”

“Darling we-“

“We should what?” Both of the very loud crewmates remain frozen, eyes wide and mouth agape as the Captain himself stands at the door, nostrils open as he takes in the aroma of the soon to be dinner, behind him walks Robin, a sly smile on her lips

Silence, deafening silence

“What were you talking about?” Of course the archeologists pushes the matter, already knowing something was stewing between the two

“Nothing” both culprits answer as they resume their individual tasks that had been forgotten

Robin is no fool, she notices how both steal panicked glances at her Captain who is just completely lost on the dinner cooking up in front of him to notice. How Sanji, the best cook she had ever had the chance to encounter is messing up steps as he fights to make the soup. How Nami kept re drawing the same set of mountains on the map

The tension was no joke

“Captain, did Mr. Shooter showed you the impressive fish he caught this morning?” Luffy brightens at Robins words

“WHAT? I have to see it! Bet it would taste delicious!” In a blink, Luffy has left the kitchen enticing a relieved sigh from the cook that does not go amiss for anyone

“You two are going to tell me what’s going on”

That damn soup was taking way too long, Luffy was bouncing up and down impatiently, stomach loud with hunger. You being the good friend that you are decided to try and get a snack, maybe a little flutter from your eyelashes would get Sanji to budge and let you take something before dinner. The Sunny was rarely quiet, the sound of the oceans waves crashing on the ship a sweet melody that had you skipping happily. As you neared the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks as a set of voices reached your ears, was there a meeting or something? Weird, Sanji doesn’t like a lot of people around when he’s cooking

Curiosity got the cat, you rest your ear flat against the door trying to make out the conversation behind it

“… a letter… it was an accident… she really likes him… he has no idea… you know how Luffy is…”

Oh

A surprised gasp leaves your mouth before you can catch it, hands run to your mouth as you stay put before the door, brain scrambled as it glues the pieces together

Someone found your love letter

The sound of heavy heels approaching the door takes you out of your daze as you scurry away like a cat, running away from the inevitable. You hear Nami call your name but the embarrassment doesn’t allow you to turn as you scape to your room

Closing the door behind you with a loud tud, you run to your bed and find the letter under your silky pillow, your face turning red as you imagine one of your crewmates reading your words. You can hear your heart in your ears before you reap the letter, the sound deafening on your quiet bedroom. How pathetic you felt, like a spec of dust on a shelve with your feelings in your throat

Of course you were a no show for dinner, worried faces on Sanji, Nami and Robin who decided to leave you alone, the damage already done they didn’t wanted to pester you any more than they already had

You were a very shy person when it came to this kind of things, which was funny considering you were usually a very confident and outspoken person, but feelings? they were too much for you, opting by writing them down which you now see as probably a bad habit. You curse for the millionth time staring up at the ceiling in hopes the ocean would leak in and take you away, spitting you on the other side of the world. A couple of nocks on your door stop your train of thought, you don’t answer making the person on the other side impatient, so they opt to just open your door

Luffy stares at you for a moment as so do you, he didn’t know what was happening thank god

“Are you ok? You didn’t came down for dinner” something Luffy didn’t joked about was food that’s for sure

“Yeah I’m… just a little tired”

He grimaces, a rare look on the strawhat boy it makes you wince

“But you need to eat” he retorts

“I’ll eat later Luf, don’t worry”

He stares again, big chocolate eyes looking you up and down, a contemplative hmm vibrating from his chest. You remain frozen, still too embarrassed to even meet his eyes for more than 5 seconds

“You know you can tell me anything right?” Luffy had this amazing ability of always finding the correct words, your face falls and you swear your pulse had accelerated enough to be audible. You sit with his statement, and you feel troubled. Of course he’s right as he always is, it makes you feel stupid to even think about being embarrassed about having feelings, but you steal a glance at his face and the red in your cheeks remind you why are you feeling so mortified

Remind you how dear he is to you

You would hate yourself forever if you were to ever ruin this, this friendship and trust with your Captain. You value that above all else even if it means hiding during meals

“Yes, of course Luf” you smile, a hurtful kind of smile that makes the rubber boy grimace even more

“I can eat with you if you want”

“I said I am tired”

“Yeah but like, if you are up for it later” his genuine concern bends your will, not being honest to him burns like acid

“I’ll let you know if I go to the kitchen”

Finally Luffy gives you the most beautiful bright honest smile, then he just disappears

This whole situation was so stupid, why were you embarrassed about feeling feelings? How dumb. If someone would’ve told you how difficult it would be to deal with love at sea, maybe you would’ve thought a little more about becoming a full time pirate

Of course you went down to eat your dinner later that day, of course Sanji happily warmed it up fro you and of course Luffy joined you

And of course he ate half of it

Pt.2

[bxttxrflybxddie]

Their Valentine's Day Plans

a/n: happy valentine's day! here's something quick :3 possibly part 1 of more?

pairings: carmen sandiego, graham (gray/crackle) calloway, zack, ivy, shadowsan, tigress, mime bomb x reader (seperate, but welcome to read as poly)

Carmen likes to indulge in your Valentine's traditions. She's learned many stories about what happens on the holiday globally, but spending it with you is special to her.

Graham takes you out for dinner, somewhere nicer than your usual places for your dates. Expect flowers!

Zack plans a day of fun with the best food around. Amusement parks, Races, Movies, you name it. This will be one of the very few times where you'll convince him to try fish. (He still won't like it)

Ivy uses the holiday as a spa-day for the both of you. She insists on spoiling you, a small thank you for being by her side through the chaos of Team Red.

Suhara (Shadowsan) asks you to join him for a night on the town. Quiet and shared moments between you both are few and far between, going where the night takes you two is a perfect opportunity to have some one-on-one time.

Sheena (Tigress) begs for a date indoors. Jet lag is catching up to her and nothing seems more appealing than holding you in her arms, cheesy movie reaching it's climax, with delivery on the way.

Mime Bomb tags you along for a night of thievery. Everyone's distracted, either by their plans or by their loneliness, and that means more pockets and stores are unguarded. Keeps his eyes out for anything you'd like as a gift.

© BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[papaya-queen]

Papaya Princess – Y/N x Grid dad!Landoscar

When Oscar and Lando adopt the new McLaren development driver.

Oscar and Lando are already together at the beginning. Y/N is 16 years old.

<3

McLaren

McLaren welcome to the family Y/N Y/L/N. She will join F1Academy with PREMA racing as a McLaren development driver. You can also find her in the Italian F4 championship with the same team.

Comments:

User McLaren must have a special requirement in their contract because how are all their drivers so cute?!

Oscarpiastri AUSSIE, AUSSIE, AUSSIE

               User he’s so happy to have some Australian support with him

               Yourusername I mean, we must fight back the colonizers (@landonorris 👀)

User MORE GIRLS IN MOTORSPORTS!!

Landonorris welcome to fam kiddo

User wait she looks familiar…

               User I’m not alone!

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername First F1Academy weekend – good results for the team. I still need to adapt to the car. Looking forward to the next weekend in Imola for F4. PS: thanks to those two weird guys who supported me during the races.

Comments:

User no way they really came to see her

               User Yeah, they definitely weren’t here for her

               User she just wants the attention that comes with them

Prema_team good weekend little tigress 🐯

McLaren 🧡

Dion.gowda see you next week! :)

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername AMAZING weekend in Imola, podium in 2 races and a rookie win! I had so much fun! Thanks team and thanks boys for the support, celebrations and fun we had (but not thank you for all the champagne in my hair 😭)!

Comments:

Tomass_stolcermanis amazing weekend for you! Next time let us win a little…

Oscarpiastri So proud of you! <3

               Yourusername thank youuuu

Landonorris if any of those boys annoys you, tell me and it will end.

               Yourusername please don’t kill my friends

User not Lando playing the protective dad 😭

Alexpowellracing I don’t feel safe anymore in this comment section 😭

               Dion.gowda same

               Kean.nakamura.berta same

               User Lando really scared the f4 boys 😭

<3

Oscarpiastri

Oscarpiastri had a great time in Imola with the family, thanks little bean for the amazing show we saw

Comments:

User well that’s a way to launch your adoption

               User what do you mean launch, everyone knew for weeks now

User landoscar on the main!!!!!

Landonorris thanks love 🧡

               User they’re too cute

Yourusername thanks dad <3

               User the McLaren fam is so sweet

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername Happy Father’s Day to my amazing grid dads. Thank you for guiding me in the world of motorsport, for the support this year and the great time that we have together!

Comments:

User I’m tearing up, they’re so cute

Landonorris thanks you princess you’re the best grid daughter ever

Oscarpiastri 🧡

Alexpowellracing guess I’m gonna cry in the corner without a grid dad 😭

               Logansargeant American boys alliance?

Charles_leclerc does that make me a grandad?

               Yourusername yes grampa

               User Charles Leclerc, grampa at 26

Dion.gowda it’s not fair, why does she have 2 grid dad when I have 0 😭

               Yourusername stop being jealous of my amazing family

<3

Oscarpiastri & Landonorris

Oscarpiastri didn’t expect a Father’s Day gift at 23 but life, you know

Comments are restricted

Yourusername 🧡🧡

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername The end of a chapter. Finishing P2 in the rookie competition, P5 in general, I couldn’t dream of more. Thanks Prema and McLaren for giving me this amazing chance. Thanks, dads, for the support during the season. Thank you, boys, for creating some core memory with me during the year. We had the time of our life!

Comments:

User that’s our girl!!

Landonorris love you little champion 🧡

Oscarpiastri aiming for P1 next year?

               Yourusername of course ;)

Prema_team that’s our tigress

User she’s so talented it’s amazing

Alexpowellracing amazing season with you, hoping we’re still in the same championship next year :)

               Landonorris calm down little boy

Kean.nakamura.berta the only person I let win

               Yourusername I was ahead of you 99% of the time

               Kean.nakamura.berta that’s still 1% where I’d let you pass

<3

<3

private.Y/N

private.Y/N Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me ♥️

Comments:

private.alex 🧡🧡

private.oscar aww young love

private.lando okay yeah I understand (alex if you do anything wrong...)

private.dion stop reminding me that i'm single 😭😭

private.kean wait Alex's not dead ?

               private.tomass he somehow survived lando

               private.alex that's because of my amazing charm

               private.y/n i love you alex but no i just battled for him

[paristheonewhoreads]

Cowboy and the Tigress

Chapter three 🌷☁️ 4.9k words

Warnings: torture. Heavy mentions of blood, and cutting. Physical pain is inflicted on character. A bit of a whirlwind or emotions. If I’m missing any tw please let me know. <3

Spring 2023, Central Boston QZ

It’s staring to get warmer. Either that or you’re just too hot. The trip down to central Boston took two days and one night. Hank was right, whole place is crawling with FEDRA soldiers. Apparently, the reason for this was the fact that rations had been lower than they’d been in years and they needed to reinforce their man power just in case people start to riot. That and the fact the fireflies had started to make quite the spectacle themselves. And it’s been far from just a pretty light show.

Arriving to the apartment you’ve got down here isn’t at all pleasant. It does however, conveniently happen to be close to the underground tunnels. You’ve started asking around for more information on Robert, apparently you’re not the only one the fuckers been nagging.

Setting down your bag on the old bed you’ve got, you start to look around the apartment. You’ve stashed quite the bit of goods all over this place. A hole behind the swan painting in the living room. That has a whole box full of ration cards, along with some fake documentation of your identification cards.

Another in the loose boards of the ceiling above the toilet, and two more under the floorboards. One in the bedroom closet and the other under the couch. All of which containing even more ration cards, all collected through the years, along with a couple of small hand guns and ammunition.

Once you check and confirm that everything is where it should be, you decide to take a much needed shower. You reek of blood from infected you’d had to kill on your way here, alongside dirt and sweat that’s accumulated on your body. This part of Boston, unlike the other you’ve made a home of, doesn’t have the peasantry of hot water, or much if any electricity.

You step into the cold water, your body tensing at first but inevitably adjusting to it and relatively relaxing itself into its harsh fridgedness. You let it run down your back and soak your hair, then begin to wash away all the filth. At first the water that goes down the drain is absolutely disgusting. A terrible color of swamp water is the best you can describe it.

Eventually however, once the water is just as clear as when coming out of the shower head, and your hair has been washed twice and conditioned, body free of any grime, do you finally turn the valve off and step out.

The cold draft in the otherwise empty apartment doesn’t help warm you up with the fresh cold water still beading down your skin. Yanking your towel off the hook on the door you wrap yourself up.

Taking a look in the mirror, you see yourself for the first time in what must be weeks. You look paler than usual, probably due to the winter. Your cheeks still hold their fullness. Curious, you let the towel fall from your form.

It’s been forever since you’ve looked at your body. You do a lot to keep it fit although not necessarily purposefully. All the walking, running, sometimes even climbing and swimming do you a favor in keeping a pleasurable figure. Sometimes you don’t feel as feminine as you would like, but in a world like this, with the line of work you’re in, that’s the least of your worries.

You brush your hair and lotion yourself up, finally settling in as you dress in some clean comfortable clothes. One of Hanks old hoodies and a pair of old shorts you’ve had for ages. Sitting yourself on old worn out couch, you gaze at nothing in particular.

You miss Ellie. Thinking back to how sad she sounded when you’d said your goodbyes before leaving, tugged at your heart strings. It feels selfish, and perhaps you were, for even coming on this trip. All because of the fact that you wanted to show this asshole who the fuck he was messing with.

You’d make it up to her, you decide. You’ll get her the book she wanted and maybe a couple other trinkets you can find. Bring a hand up to your neck you feel your locket. It had belonged to your mother once. You’d taken it from her as she lay dead in the floor of your living room as something to remember her by. That was a long time ago.

Now, in present time, it holds a picture of Ellie and yourself. It’s a fond memory frozen in time by the photograph. You remember it to the ‘T’. It’d been the first christmas after a year of getting into the business your so indulged in now. You’d worked your ass off for a year and it had paid off.

You were able to get Ellie actual presents for the first time. She was 10 at the time, she’d been so ecstatic when she saw an actual tree with lights on it and presents all wrapped up under it. The sound of her laughter and excitement fills your ears as you reminisce.

Smiling at the photo inside the small locket you start to drift into sleep. A much needed rest after your journey here, and for what’s to come.

You’re awoken by knocking at the door. The sun was setting, practically gone behind the horizon. Sky becoming dark and cold without its warmth. You get up from the couch, grabbing the hand gun on the small side table besides you. Second nature at this point really.

Walking towards the door you peer through the peephole and see that it’s Amy. A dear friend, Hank must’ve let her know you’d be coming. You hurriedly open the door, smile wide and bright on your face.

Once the door opens and she sees you she too smiles brightly at you. “Hello you.” She says in a terrible British accent. It’d become your own little greeting between the two of you. Putting the gun in the waistband of your shorts you open your arms and embrace her. “Hello you.” You say back in a just as terrible British accent.

She giggles at your impression, and tightens her arms around you. Both of you stay in this embrace for about a minute until you break away, taking her in you feel relieved that she seems healthy.

“Here, come in.” You tell her and she walked past you into the living room as you look down the hallway, double checking to see if anyone else is around, before going back inside yourself.

“Well I see you’ve settled in. I was supposed to stop by earlier but I thought you’d probably just want to settle in by yourself.” She chatters, taking a seat on couch you’d just been napping on prior. You hadn’t noticed she’d had a plastic bag with her until she starts to take tupperware out and places it on the coffee table. “I also thought that maybe you’d be hungry. It’s quite the trip from all the way over there to here.”

“Lucky for you I am actually starving.” You laugh softly. Walking into the kitchen real quick you get both of you plates and some glasses along with a bottle of old wine you’d had stored away god knows how long ago. Trailing back into the living room you see her starting to open the containers.

“How’d you even know I was here?” You ask, while sitting down beside her and passing her her plate and glass. “Hank gave me a heads up last night that’d you’d be here, and I obviously wasn’t about to pass the opportunity of seeing you up.” She shrugged. You hum in acknowledgment and open the bottle of wine, pouring her a glass and yourself one.

Taking a sip from her glass, “God that’s good, haven’t had wine in who knows how long.” She jokes, and begins to serve you a plate and then herself. “This smells so good, when did you make this?” you’ve stuffed some of the baked potatoes she’s made along with some chicken and veggies.

“About an hour ago, that’s why I was late.” She says sheepishly, but you shake your head and continue to chew “mmm don’t be sorry, this is apology enough.” You say through a full mouth while pointing at your plate with your fork.

You both talk and catch up on what is is you’ve been up too. She tells you how she’s met a girl, and that they’ve been dating for about 10 months. “She’s so sweet and caring. At first I was nervous, she’s the first girl I’ve been with so, it’s all kind of new in a way. But refreshing for sure.” You’re happy for her, and tell her about how your still as single as ever. She jokes that it’ll take either another apocalypse for you to find someone or that you’ll probably end up like Hank, old and with absolutely no love life.

She asked about Ellie, to which you inform her of how she’s back home, probably giving Hank a run for his money, poor thing. The good, and the bad. Both of you talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Well into the hours of the night. Once both of your bellies are full and your empty plates are left abandoned on the table, you begin to get into serious conversation.

“So,” she begins, “Hank told me you’re here because some dickhead has been taking from trades?” Quirking a brow and taking a sip of her wine. You hum and let out an exasperated sigh, “yeah, son of a bitch has been crossing me for a couple months now. Had to come down here to deal with it.” You shrug

Amy nods in understanding “well if there’s anyone who knows what he’s in for it’s anybody but him. God knows people on your bad side don’t tend to have the best time.” She laughs. “Or the longest time either” you add, laughing yourself.

She makes a noise once she remembers something, and starts digging trough her bag again and pulls out a file, you sit up at this. “Hank told me to give this too you, said it have pretty much everything you need to know about your guy.” Handing it over to you you grab it and open it up to look through it.

As you’re reading, it has everything there is to know about him. His age, who he associates with, who he’s been seen talking to within this past week. The trades he’s been making on his own accord, and the amount of supplies he’s been taking from yours. It’s mostly been pills, and a couple crates of guns and ammunition.

Amy looks over your shoulder and rests her head on it. She sees the photo of Robert and picked it up from the file. “This him?” She asks, you nods you head. Humming, “He’s kind of cute. Maybe you can enemies to lovers your way with him.” She jokes.

You face become one of pure and utter revulsion “There is actually no way you just said that.” you deadpan. She lets out a giggle before looking at the photo again. Shrugging, “Eh, your right, his eyes are too far apart.” she notices, before tossing the photo back onto the pile of papers in the file.

She stands up from the couch “Well, it's getting late, I'll leave you too it.”. You look up from the paperwork and quickly close the file, getting up aswell and following her as she walks toward the door. “Thank you for coming over, and for feeding me.” you smile and hug her and she returns the gesture.

“Of course, anytime. Make sure to save the left overs for tomorrow so you can at least have breakfast.” you nod and open the door for her. “I will,” you smile “and be careful, try to get home quickly.” There's a final hug between the two of you, before she's walking down the hall, you wait until she's out of sight before turning back into the apartment and locking up.

You walk back to the living room and sit back down. The file says that Robert will be at a warehouse in two days. That's where you'll find him. Two days. You could work with that. More time for you to find Ellie’s books and other things. After storing the food back into the tupperware and putting the dishes in the sink you go back to bed. Two days. You’d wait till then.

During said days, you do indeed end up getting Ellie a spiderman comic, along with some space pins so she could add to her backpack that you think she’ll like. Once it’s about 11am you head out with a group of men to where Robert is hiding. Hank had set it up to where their only job was to get you to Robert and you’d take care of the rest.

After making sure to avoid FEDRA within the city you take a route to the outside where you make your way to the warehouse. This place is riddled with men. Men that don’t know they’re getting paid nothing to risk their lives for this prick.

On the top floor of a building not too far away you stand with the group of men that have come along. It’s only four of them plus yourself. “My guy says that Robert is in the very back of this quadrant.” You explain as they all get ready to head out. “That means we’re going to have to make our way across the yard. Try to refrain from shooting. Last thing I need is letting this guy know we’re coming. Everyone and anyone that gets in your way is to be terminated. You guys get me to Robert and I will make sure you all receive twice the amount of what we agreed on. We clear?” a chorus of ‘yes ma’am’s’ go around and you nod once before you’re making your way out.

As you all make your way building by building, room by room, you eventually make it to an office. It’s empty, but by the documents scattered on tables along with a useless car battery and an ashtray you know this is his office. You decide to wait until his return. Making sure there’s two men posted by the door to tackle him once the bastard steps in. The other two stay by the desk while you sit in his desk chair and make yourself comfortable.

You’re mindlessly reading through some documents until rapid footsteps reach the door. You send a look towards the man by the door as you sit up and he nods. As soon as the door bursts open Robert comes stumbling in until he’s landed face first onto the floor.

Your men by the door yank him up by his arms as he thrashes against them. “Who the fuck do you- let me go! You Fuck faces have any idea who you’re-“ he goes dead still once he meets your gaze. “Oh shit.” you hear him mutter to himself.

“Hey-tiy-I’m ma’am I- what-“ he stuttered “That name,” you get up from his chair and make your way to where they’re holding him. You not to one of them, and they kick the back of his knees so that he’s kneeling. “are for those whom I trust. You are no man I trust.” You say calmly. You were never one to immediately shout or scream when making a point. You’ve found over the years that this tends to unnerve people much more.

“I’ve heard you’ve been making quite the deals here recently.” You say, looking around the room. You smile “It’s quite the place you’ve got here.”

“Tiy-“ he starts, but you’re quick to reprimand him. “DONT” your voice thunders through the doom accompanied by a loud crack of skin to skin. The back of your hand stings, but you can only imagine what his cheek must feel like.

You’ve busted his lip, you notice. As blood begins to dribble from the open cut. He looks at you with a pure furry. You take a breath. “You know, I could have made this so much more easier. I could have just sent someone down here to kill you without having get my hands dirty,” You shake you head to yourself, “but no. I wanted to hear what excuses a dumb fuck like you could possibly come up with.” you snicker.

Before he can open his mouth you speak “tie him to the chair” is all you say. “NO! Wait ti- MA’AM hey! Please man c’mon-“ he’s cut off by one of the men growing a punch at him to which it gives them a chance to man handle him into the chair. They go at him, throwing punch after punch. Some to his face, others towards his stomach. It isn’t until he’s hunched over, blood dripping from his open mouth, and his face swollen and bruised that you finally tell them it’s enough.

“Everyone out,” you turn to the men “stay by the door. Kill anyone who gets close.” You shrug off your jacket. This going to get messy. You think to yourself.

Pulling up another chair in front of Robert you sit while snapping your fingers in front of his face. “C’mon now baby don’t go all delirious on me yet.” you fake pout. “Fun hasn’t even started yet.”

He looks up to you, eyes fuzzy. “Now, why on earth out of all the people you could’ve fucked with, did you decide I would be your best option?” you question him again once you don’t get an immediate answer “hm?” You tilt your head. No answer again.

“Christ, and here I thought you’d make this easy for yourself.” you sigh. Grabbing an extra rope you wrap it tightly around your knuckles. Before grabbing the other end and walking around him quickly, the rope constricting his air way as you tug back harder, making him gasp.

It takes everything in you not to just snap his neck and be done with it, go home, and go see your girl. But no, you want him to pay. Once he starts thrashing against the ropes holding him to the chair you let the one around his neck loosen. He gasps for air and coughs, greedily sucking in air. His face is red, even slightly purple now.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” you wait patiently. He eventually stops coughing and looks at you, “I-I didn’t think you’d notice. Look-I’m sorry okay- I- I’ll pay back everything I owe you I swear it. I-“ you click your tongue and shake your head.

“See, now if I did believe you which I don’t. It still wouldn’t matter whatever lame ultimatum you’d try and offer me. I think we both know you’re not leaving here alive rob.”

“God no- please! I swear it to you. I-I’ll pay it all back ALL OF IT! I SWEAR.”

“For fucks sake..STOP WHINING!” You yell again. This time you take the knife on your belt and slash him across his face. Blood splatters from the wound that’s open from the bottom left of his jaw all the way across to his right temple. He lets out a shout of agony. His blood landing on your clothes from the gash.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug it back harshly. “You and me both know that your not getting out of this one Rob so why don’t you just do us both the favor of making this nice and quick.” you let go of his hair and shove his head back.

“Now, next question is really important for you to answer, okay?,” you ask “and if you don’t answer it, you lose a finger. Deal?” You take the knife and jab it into the middle of his back palm. He grunts in pain and barely nods.

“OK! Okay- fuck- I’ll tell you an-anything.” you give him a smile at that “okay, see? Good. Now, I need to know, who exactly it is you sold off my merchandise to.”

“I-I sold it to a lot of different people. I-I can’t remember everyone- I don’t know-“ he’s cut of my his own blood soaked scream as you pull out the knife from his hand as slice off not one, but two fingers.

“I didn’t like that answer. But it’s okay maybe you didn’t hear me correctly. I asked exactly who did you sell the supplies to. I want a name Rob cmon.” you chastise.

He’s full on sobbing now. Tears running down his face as he chokes on his own breath. “FUCK- I told you I don’t- I don’t know! I-it was multiple. I-I sold some to the-the fireflies- some to random people along the QZ I- I can’t remember their names.”

Him mentioning the fireflies has you perk up. You lean back in the chair your sitting in and hum. “Fireflies? What did you sell to them? Guns? Ammunition?”

“Y-yeah I sold them some ammunition- I-I sold them some guns too but those weren’t yours I swear.” your brows furrow. “Not mine? Who’s guns were they?”

“T-this one lady- s-she gave them to me f-for safe keeping and I sold em” you nod at what he says.

“And the fireflies, they know it was my shit you were selling them?” he shakes his head. “N-No they t-thought it was mine. I-I didn’t tell them it wasn’t my merchandise.”

Sighing, you get up from the chair. Thats enough. You think. As you go to call the men outside there’s gunshots outside. You tense, there’s multiple people, way more than your initial four guys.

Time to go then.

You storm over to Rob and jag his right thigh with your blade, while again yanking his hair back, forcing him to look at you. “When you came in you were running. From what?” You ask through gritted teeth. He starts to wheeze out a laugh and this gets your blood boiling. Grabbing onto the knife you twist it. While you give his hair another hash yank. “FROM WHAT?” You ask again

He grunts out and lets out a breath. More gunshots fire outside and shouting starts. “Those people who’s guns I sold off to the bugs. They ain’t take to lightly to me doing so, they’re looking for the battery, I tried selling it to em” He takes another ragged breath before continuing, making direct eye contact with you, “what? D’you think you were the only bitch that got her feathers ruffled?” He laughed as he finished his sentence. Jesus, he's going crazy.

The shouting and gun fire gets closer to the door. You grit your teeth again and untie the fucker from the chair and yank him up. He can hardly stand. “Get up.” you grit out, showing him towards the back door of the room.

You run and he has to practically be dragged by you. You run through the corridors till you make it to a back door that’s a dead end. You hear voices shouting behind you for rob. You look at him, he’s bloodied, from his face to his hand to his leg. It’s a mystery how he’s still even alive let alone standing.

Deciding that he really doesn’t hold any more value to you and that he’s just dead weight you kick the back of his knee and he tumbles over. You don’t think twice, you don’t flinch, you just aim your gun at him and pull the trigger. Good riddance.

You hear footsteps approaching you as you start to walk away. As you go to turn around the corner of the hallway, you see someone that you haven’t seen in years. Your gazes lock onto each other at the same time. On instinct you reach behind you and pull out your gun, pointing it at- “Marlene?” her name is coming out of your mouth before you could bite your tounge.

In seeing her, you falter for a second. Taking a step back, your eyebrows furrow. How many damn people knew that Robert would be here today of all days. “Well, this is a surprise.” her voice in monotone, sounds as if you being here was anything but a surprise. You start to slowly shake your head to yourself, not believing that she’s standing in front of you.

She takes a scan of you too. Almost as if she’s admiring how much you’ve grown in a way. Like a parent seeing their kid after being away at college for a year. Marlene sighs at you, nods and walks past. You watch her move like a ghost. And in a way she is, a ghost from the past come back to haunt you. “I needed him alive.” She tells the you.

You realize you’re standing there like an idiot, and snap yourself out of it, and stand up straight. “He would have been a waste of time if you were looking to talk to him.” She lets out a breath, before turning back to you. She’s injured, bad. Clutching her side as blood seeps through the thin material of her tank top.

“You look like shit.” you say, taking her in. The bags under her eyes don’t do her appearance any good; her bleeding out also doesn’t help. Marlene laughed through her nose and nods her head in agreement “yeah. You look…grown.” stating the obvious.

“Considering you haven’t seen me since I was 14, yeah, I have fucking grown.” You bite. Her eyes fall to the floor at your jab.Sighing, you move past it and try to make conversation “You still running this shit show?” you ask gesturing to the firefly symbol spray painted on the wall. She meets your gaze again, nodding again. “Yeah, or y’know, at least trying. Whole thing seems to be blowing up in front of my face” She breathlessly chuckles but winces half way through.

You cringe at how more blood seems to be flowing out of her wound. You point your chin at it, “you going to get that fixed up?” she looks down at it and then back up at you with a raised brow, “you offering?”. She can’t be serious.

Scoffing at her for even fathoming you helping her is delusional, “yeah not a fucking chance. I got what I came for,” you pause, “goodbye Marlene.”. You turn around and start to walk away, but she’s quick to take a couple of steps in a weak attempt at following you, “wait.” She rasps out.

You don’t know why you stop. You don’t know why you turn back to face her. But you do, and when you’re fully turned to her you can see the eagerness she has in her eyes. She wants to talk to you. “What?”

She licks her lips, and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, “there’s- there’s something that I need to tell you. It’s about-“ you cut her off “Look, no offense, but talking to you is the last thing I need right now.” with that you turn once again and walk out.

“It’s about your kid.” your head turns harshly to look at her, eyes furrowed, getting defensive “My kid? Is back at home safe. Not that that’s any of your business.” but she just shakes her head. “God you don’t even know.” She mutters, staring down the hallway.

Your eyes narrow at this, “I Don’t know what?” you prod. She sighs, “Your kids not safe. And she sure as hell isn’t home.” the grip on your gun tightens, a wave of unease suddenly flowing through you. Your change in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by Marlene, “Now don’t go making any rash decisions.” She slowly puts her hands up.

You ignore her request, “Answer my question. What don’t I know?! What the hell are you talking about? I swear to got if you’ve done something to her I’ll-“ she cuts off your threat, “Woah woah,” she tries to calm you down, as if your a fucking bull ready to charge, “I never said I did anything to your girl. Would you really think I’d stoop that low?” you scoff “Is that even a question?”

Her jaw ticks, “Alright, fine, I deserve that,” “oh you don’t have even the slightest idea of what you deserve.” You spit. “I’m done playing games, tell me what the hell you’ve done with my kid or I shoot.” You ease your gun higher, making your point.

“Your kids with me. I was out on a mission outside the QZ I was going through the abandoned mall, and I heard a commotion. Thought it was infected, and it was, but your kid was also there.” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. Ellie? Outside the QZ? No. It’s can’t be. She- she’s lying, she has to be.

“Alright look I don’t know what type of sick plan you’ve got or how you knew I’d be here but whatever this is your trying to do I-“ “I’ll take you to her.” She cuts in.

She lets out a painful breath, “she's been going crazy trying to get out of here. But she's smart, didn't give me her real name, said it was Veronica. Hasn't really talked either.”

Veronica.

Your mothers name.

“And before you go all mama bear on me, remind yourself that I am currently the only one that knows where she is and that I am also currently bleeding out.”

There’s a pause,

“Take me to her.”

Next Chapter

Chapter three omggg 🙈🙉🙊 This took forever to write and also I don’t even really like it… so I might come back and rewrite this chapter. I’m also working on expanding my vocabulary when writing as I feel sometime it sounds repetitive. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed!! 🫶🏼 again if you have any feedback I’d highly appreciate it! 💗 Thank you for reading 💌

P.s MY 100th POST 🥳🥳🥳