#despite his husband's a designer and can eASILY make him clothes

[caelcstis]

fr the goddess boys are all i desire for regulus and leo to have

[recurring-polynya]

i am devouring EVERY WORD of these deleted scenes is there anything more we can see from a little in love????

Sure, why not? This is the last one, though, don't wanna give *too* much away.

“Well, what they do in the World of the Living,” Rukia explained, “when they want to have a traditional wedding, they just add the western dress as another outfit change. Sometimes even two outfit changes, a wedding dress, and then a ‘cocktail dress’.” She had first encountered these beautiful gowns in a romance manga Orihime had loaned her. Orihime was a great fan of fancy dresses and she had been happy to give Rukia a primer on various styles and the customs associated with them over the course of numerous school lunch breaks.

Hisana laughed gently. “You want extra outfit changes?”

Rukia felt her face go warm. “I didn’t say I wanted it! I was just thinking about it!”

“What does the groom do in these circumstances?” Koshino asked. “Does he also change into Western clothing? The tight pants?”

“I think it’s optional, but he certainly could,” Rukia shrugged. 

Koshino ran one finger over his mustache thoughtfully. “A montsuki is classic. It is impossible to look bad in one. The Western suit is less forgiving. Lord Kuchiki, of course, could pull it off easily. The man can wear anything.”

“And how!” Hisana sighed dreamily. 

“Excuse me, Lady Rukia?”

All three of them looked up to see one of the footmen standing in the doorway. 

Yes, Saejima?” Rukia perked up, already having a suspicion why he was here.

“Lord Kuchiki and Lieutenant Abarai have concluded their business. Lord Kuchiki asked me to,” Saejima cleared his throat slightly, “deliver Lieutenant Abarai into your custody until dinnertime.”

Finally! “Wonderful! Thank you, Saejima!” Rukia set her teacup back on the tray and started to get up.

“Oh, oh, wait!” Hisana broke in. “Send him in, Saejima! I want him to meet Mr. Koshino.”

“Sister, no,” Rukia murmured. If pressed, Rukia would have to admit that she didn’t hate talking high fashion nearly as much as she pretended to, but poor Renji certainly didn’t want to sit through a discussion about which sleeve length would be most flattering to his body shape.

It was too late, though. Renji’s curious face appeared in the doorway. “Er, good afternoon, Lady Hisana,” he said. His gaze fell on Rukia, and despite herself, her heart sped up. “Lady Rukia.”

“There he is!” Hisana trilled, waving a hand. “Come in, Lieutenant, would you like some tea?”

“Er, I’m good, thank you.”

“Lieutenant Abarai, this is Koshino Syuuga, the most exclusive clothing designer in Soul Society. Mr. Koshino, this is Abarai Renji, my husband’s adjutant and Rukia’s beau.”

“Nice to meet you!” Renji said cheerfully, making a little bow.

Koshino’s eyes scanned over Renji, probably estimating his measurements to pinpoint accuracy. “This is him?” he demanded. “The bridegroom?”

Renji’s face abruptly turned purple.

“Shh, shh! It’s not official yet!” Hisana one hand. “But yes.”

“I have changed my mind!” Koshino declared, throwing one hand into the air. “You shall have your Western wedding outfits, Lady Rukia! This is new to me, but I shall begin researching immediately!”

“I didn’t actually ask for it,” Rukia pointed out, standing up and edging towards the door.

Koshino was on a tear now. “No one told me about this man and his beautiful hair! Rukia, you will wear the scarlet iro-uchikake! What a pair you will make! Why did you worry me, Lady Hisana? Saying people will pooh-pooh on the wedding because it is an adoptive marriage, when the happy couple is this? Call your friend at the Bulletin and tell them to save the entire Society page! Perhaps the front cover, even!”

Renji stood rigid and pale, his entire body held still. Maybe he was hoping that Koshino’s vision was motion-based, like some Hollows. Rukia walked over and grabbed him by the wrist. “I’m taking Renji for a walk in the garden until dinner!” she announced. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Koshino! If I can, I’ll try to get a hold of a Living World bridal magazine for you!”

“Ah, Lady Rukia, this is why you are my favorite, even among the Kuchiki, the most beautiful people in Soul Society!”

“Don’t let Brother hear you say that!” Rukia sang as she hauled Renji out of the sitting room.

[rayofsunas]

s/o trying on the boys clothes.

A/n: I hope everyone’s day is going alright, as good as these days can be :( this was requested by an anon. thank you so much for your cute idea anon! also can I just say, I love scaramouche’s hat so much? it’s so pretty!?!?! sorry childe’s is so short, I don’t have much exposure to him ngl. these could be read as g/n, but I did have a female reader in mind, it’s more noticeable in xiao’s.

Summary: s/o trying on the boys clothes.

Parings: Scaramouche/Reader, Childe/Reader, Xiao/Reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing

Word count: 1.2k

Scaramouche

You knew the minute you put his hat on he’d be angered to see you wearing it. But how could you not, when it was just sitting on the back of the wooden chair, begging��to be worn.

Your lover had abandoned it for once, but you assumed he hadn’t gone far if he’d left it behind. It was like a signature of his, he never left without it.

If he wasn’t here, he wouldn’t notice you wearing it, so it wouldn’t hurt anybody if you tried it on for just a few minutes. The curiosity was getting the better of you, and before you knew it, you were padding across the room to pick up the hat.

It slipped easily on your head, but you quickly noticed how heavy it was, the weight of the two ornamental accessories weighing it down significantly.

“Jeez, Scara... how do you wear this?” You muttered to yourself, approaching a mirror in your bedroom. You stared at your reflection for quite a while, appreciating and admiring the small intricate designs and details on the top of the hat. It was truly beautiful.

A nervousness bubbled in your stomach when you saw your lover come into view in the mirror, his eyes pointed in a heavy glare.

“What do you think you’re doing,” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. One that could have held malice behind it if you were someone else.

Despite being nervous, you gulped and confidently announced, “Hello Scara.”

“Take that off.” You weren’t shocked by his demand, not at all.

“But it’s so pretty,” you whined. Scaramouche’s eyes rolled as he strolled forward, standing behind you with a finger on his chin. He was so close you could practically feel the best emitting off of his body; he was... irked.

“It’s design isn’t pretty.” He stated harshly.

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right because it’s not on your head! Here.” You whipped the hat off at the speed of light and were quick to plop it on top of navy hair.

The ornaments continued to jingle even when the hat was secure on his head and you were left staring at an unreadable face.

“Better...” you whispered shyly. “You look like a King now.”

He stayed silent for a long time, it makes you feel uncomfortable and awkward under his gaze.

“Considering you like it so much. Maybe we should have one made for you...” he said thoughtfully, easing away all of your nervousness with just one unusual thoughtful comment. Your face heated up, burning like Jueyun Chili’s, you were excited.

“Really?! You would do that for me! Aw you’re so sweet Scara-”

“Only because I don’t want mine stolen all of the time.”

You frowned, but you would take the previous statement as a compliment. He wanted to match with you, that’s what you decided to conclude.

“Two-faced bastard... just let me have this moment, okay?!”

A rare smile formed on his pale face. “Aw, is someone upset?” You glared.

“Don’t whine like a baby; you’ll get yours in due time.”

You eventually did get your custom hat, designed to accommodate you perfectly. You wore it out of your house proudly, despite passing by travelers commenting on how odd it looked on you due to you looking “normal”. It didn’t bother you, you’d continue to wear it and strut it like a peacock with beautiful feathers. Let’s just say if Scaramouche hears anybody saying that to you, death. 🔪🙂

Childe

Childe LOVES that he caught you wearing his grey jacket, he could not thank the Archons enough, that he got to see such an image this morning. It was a great start to his day. 

“Oh, you’re wearing my jacket, how cute of you, girlie.” He continued to say as you walked through the streets of Liyue. Ever since you had stepped out of your house this morning, and Childe had spotted you wearing his jacket he hadn’t been able to let go of the flirtatious and prideful comments. 

“I didn’t have anything else.” You admitted, kicking rocks at your feet.

His tongue clicked, mockingly. “If you wanted to wear my clothes sweetheart, all you had to was ask!” A long arm gracefully slipped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. You huffed. 

“It’s not like that, I didn’t have time to wash any suitable clothes this morning-”

He only hummed with the shake of his head. “It’s okay, we’ll keep this secret between us.”

“It’s not, ugh whatever...”

You truthfully hadn’t had any suitable clothes left to run to Liyue Harbor in and hadn’t had time to wash them at the river near your home. Hence the reason you were wearing his jacket. You should’ve known he would not be able to drop it as soon as you stepped into his line of vision. 

Although the teasing was annoying, especially so early in the morning after already starting your day stressing about what to wear, you did like the warmth the grey jacket gave you, and you probably would consider wearing it again. 

Xiao

“Please, Xiao, please.” You whined, begging at your knees in front of your husband, hands cupped together in a pray-like form. 

The pale man tried to get you to stand, but you would not, “I do not see why you want to wear my clothes.” He exclaimed, standing tall above you.

“Because, they’re pretty, are they not?” 

He stayed silent, clearly thinking. “I’ve never associated them with the word pretty.” 

You hummed, eyes glistening with false tears, he concluded. You sure did know how to get your way. Without much thought as to what he was saying, the man suddenly mumbled, “Fine, if you must.” 

You cheered excitedly and loudly as if you had won a battle. Xiao watched with curiosity, as you abruptly stood, leaned in to kiss his cheek, and then ran off towards his wardrobe in the corner of the room. 

You whipped the wardrobe open as if you were starving and began stifling through his clothes. Most articles were similar to his everyday attire, you could see signature teals, purples, and golds; immediately you gravitated towards one of his sleeveless shirts, although this one was a faded gold, with a light purple collar and intricate white detailing closer to the bottom.

Despite your husband still in the room, completely tinted pink from your previous cheek kiss, you threw your top off and began slipping his shirt on. It fit weirdly since you had breasts, kind of snug, you thought. You had to adjust it a few times, but you loved it. It was quite comfortable, almost like a tank top.

“What do you think?” You asked, turning around to face the Adepti. 

He stared. Eventually, he spoke up after seeing your awaiting gaze. “You look beautiful, darling.”

You felt your face heating up, glad he liked how it looked on you, despite being extremely tight up top. 

“Can I wear this more often?”

“I’m not sure-”

“Please.” You whined once again. 

He just could not say no to that look on your face. If he let you get your way more often though, you just might end up with his closet as your own...

1.16.21, rayofsunas

[edens-melodies]

- by design (2.4k)

warnings: cursing - dry humping - exactly one (1) spank - cumming in underwear - asahi being a whiny dom - MINORS DNI!!!!!

azumane asahi does not consider himself a vain or arrogant man, especially in his line of work. if anything, he’s too humble, often selling himself short of his accomplishments and shyly accepting praise.

gentle, understanding, sweet. it’s just in his nature and he’s always been like this for as long as he can remember.

despite his large stature and somewhat intimidating face, the truth of the matter is that azumane asahi is a massive teddy bear, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

especially when that big teddy bear currently had you pressed up firmly against his desk in your home office, large hands gripping your clothed hips as he ground his aching cock against your ass desperately through his underwear.

a deep whine crawled from his throat as his grip tightened and he pulled you closer, panting in your ear before nipping it lightly.

you couldn’t help but follow his slow grind, head spinning in lust as you struggled to remember how you ended up in this situation.

——————

(e/c) eyes narrowed in concentration as you tried your hardest to not alert the large man in front of you of your presence. he continued to hum a light tune as he carried on measuring the piece of fabric for his newest design.

an evil smile curled your lips as you continued to creep behind him, stopping when you were just a couple of inches away from him.

this is gonna be good.

“boo!”

everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as you watched your husband seize up and throw his hands into the air in shock, the piece of fabric he had been measuring launching above your head as he let out a blood curdling scream.

you had to admit, the pitch of it was impressive, especially for a man his age and size. you watched as he whipped around in fear and the sheer look of shock and minute terror almost made you feel bad for scaring him so bad.

almost.

asahi shot you a weak glare as he clutched his chest, ignoring the loud cackling as he fought to calm his heart down before it beat straight out of his chest. he was way too young to have a heart attack.

you continued to cackle while pointedly ignoring the unamused look your husband was giving you. bending over swiftly you picked up the silky piece of fabric that flew from his hands and placed it back on the desk.

sighing dramatically, you plopped your body onto his lap, lightly clasping your hands around his neck as you smiled cheekily up at him.

asahi rolled his eyes but smiled softly anyways, bringing his arms around your waist to tug you further into his chest. he buried his nose in your hair and sighed in content. maybe he did need a break.

“y’know,” he muttered, gently rocking you in his arms as you closed your eyes in content. “there are better ways to tell me that you want attention without trying to give me a stroke, love.”

you snickered again before leaning forward and off his chest, twisting your abdomen so (e/c) eyes could lock with warm brown, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him and roll your eyes as your brought your hand to his cheek.

he quirked an eyebrow questioningly as you began to softly stroke his cheek. “you’re right,” you muse, smiling warmly at him. asahi widened his eyes slightly in shock. you never agree with him so easily-

“but then who’s supposed to keep you on your toes and try to make you shit yourself at least twice a day?”

you finished nonchalantly and asahi groaned as he tossed his head back in defeat. there was definitely no winning with you.

you hummed softly to yourself as asahi completely slumped in his chair, defeated. curious eyes scan over the messy desk, old sketches and notes strewn over the surface.

you quietly appreciated his art and designs, admiring them all until a certain paper caught your eye.

brown eyes cracked open when he heard you let out a soft but excited squeal, wiggling in his lap to get a better look at the paper.

he saw your eyes glued to one of his newest designs and he could help but chuckle at the look of pure awe and amazement in your gaze. you always had a knack for attaching yourself to his favorites.

the design was for a great gatsby themed cocktail dress, the notes indicating that the material was made of velvet and you practically could feel how soft the fabric would be. the colors were mainly gold and black, accents of silver trailing up to the thin spaghetti straps that crossed into an “x” on otherwise bare back,

it ended just at the top of the figures thighs, the front of the dress having an elegant twist just below the bust and spreading into the ruched detailing on the sides. it looked absolutely stunning.

you let out a low whistle, quirking an eyebrow as your gaze never left the finished sketch.

“babe, i know i say this a lot, but you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

your husband gives a sheepish smile before hiding his blushing face in your neck as you continue to stare at the sheet.

“it’s not that impressive, really...” he trails off, but before he could continue to self deprecate, you delivered a swift but firm chop to his head, causing him to splutter. (suga would be proud)

“what did i say about taking compliments?” you challenge him with a firm voice, and he sighs. “fine!” he exclaims before huffing childishly. “...i guess i did okay.” he murmurs as he rests his chin on your shoulder and you smile, having won.

bringing a hand up to gently stroke his hair, your voice audibly softens when you whisper your praise to him again. “it really is gorgeous, asa.” asahi’s heart melted at how soft you sounded, at how much love was in your words.

asahi constantly tells himself everyday how lucky he is to have you in his life, especially as his wife. he loves you so much it hurts his chest sometimes, and it warms him like nothing else when he knows you love him just as much.

you’re his biggest fan, always supporting him through all his trials and tribulations, no matter what. you like to call yourself his personal cheerleader and even joke around saying “you should design me an cheer uniform, that way my role will be taken official.”

speaking of wearing what he designs, asahi wraps his arms around your waist again, pulling you in close to bring his lips to your ear. “if you like it so much, could you do me a favor?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, staring down his blushing but determined face from the corner of your eye.

“hmm? and just what do you have in mind, love?”

~~~~~

your eyes seemed to be glued to the mirror, lips permanently dropped open as you took in the sight of your body in the exact same dress from your husband’s sketch.

fuck you looked hot.

asahi stood behind you, his tall frame towering over you as he smiled bashfully at your reflection, hand scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“i had already had the mind for you to model it for me to see how well it would look in person instead of just on paper.” his eyes trailed down your body as the dress hugged every one of your curves deliciously, and he couldn’t help but take a nervous gulp.

“but you always seem to exceed my expectations.” now it was your turn to blush as you turned away from the mirror, not missing the way his lips turned up in a light smirk at your pink cheeks.

you turn around to gaze up at him, admiring the way his eyes seem to twinkle behind his glasses as he smiled at you with love and pride. he looked so cute, being confident and all. you wanted to just eat him up.

asahi didn’t back away from you as you approached him slowly like a creeping lioness. he also didn’t back down from your heated gaze as you locked eyes with him, and a smile appeared on his lips when he saw you shiver at the same fire that was dancing behind his eyes, too.

you rested your chin on his chest as you stared up at him, big doe eyes gleaming up at him in innocence when you were anything but.

his arms wrapped around your frame and squeezed before one large hand trailed down the softness of your dress to settle on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and delighting in the small moan you let out.

“you know,” your drawl, hands coming up to trail your nails down the expanse of his back lightly, enjoying the way he shivered as he stared back at you.

“i really like how this dress looks on me, but maybe i would look better if we took it off?”

——————

you moaned as your husband continued to grind his clothed cock into your ass, voice catching when he angled just right to slip between your thighs and nudge against your clit.

you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, desperate to finally shed the dress that now felt too hot against your flushed skin and let him have his way with you, but it seemed like he had other plans for you.

his grip was vice like on your hips and you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises tomorrow. if anything, it only fueled the fire that was coiling in your belly like a spring. soft asahi was hot, but a needy, dominant asahi was downright sinful.

asahi nipped your ear even harsher this time, a warning to keep still and behave. he continued to rut against your ass, biting back another whine at the delicious friction the soaked fabric felt against his weeping cockhead.

“asahi! please!” you whined, grinding your ass against him as your fingers gripped the edge of the desk harshly, hoping to convince him to let you go. “i wanna feel your cock inside me already! just take my dress off!” he chuckled at the whininess of your voice, but ignored your pleas.

he growled lightly when he felt you soaking through the cloth of his pants, your slick already having destroyed your cute little thong you teased him with earlier when you stripped to put the dress on.

“why should i listen to you when all you do is bully and tease me, hm?” he muttered darkly into your ear, purposefully angling his bulge to jam right against your clit and groaning when you let out a high pitched moan. you knew he wasn’t gonna let go of you scaring him so easily.

“ i-i said i was s-sorry!” you wail as his hips stop grinding against you and instead begin to thrust at an even pace, his cock dragging along your clit with each pass.

the coil in your stomach was growing slowly, the pleasure you were receiving was enough to make you throb and keen, but not enough to push you over. you needed more.

asahi panted as he slightly sped up, some of his hair sticking to his forehead as he broke out into a sweat, the friction pushing him slowly to the peak, and though all he wanted was to just rip your underwear off and split you in two, he was gonna teach you a lesson.

“you say that everytime, darling,” he growled the last word into your ear, making you whine and soak through your destroyed panties even more. “but we both know you’re just gonna do it again.”

his hips picked up the pace until he was practically fucking you through your clothes, the slickness from your cunt and his precum allowing him to glide across your slit with ease as he pushed you both closer to the edge.

“a-as-a-hi!!” you squealed as he slapped his hips against your ass, eyes screwing shut as the friction sparked your clit deliciously, panting against the cool surface of the desk as all you could do was let him make you about to cum in your panties.

asahi was no better, choked whines and moans leaving his pink lips as he grit his teeth together in concentration, chocolate eyes drinking in the way you looked bent over his desk as his cock dragged against your clit, (s/c) skin glowing and complimenting the dress you were in, the one he designed.

he curled his body over yours, hips never stopping their pace as he placed kiss after kiss on your exposed back before sinking his teeth into your flesh, a loud whine ripping through him as he feels himself near his peak.

with one particularly hard thrust against your clit and one of his hands coming down to slam against your ass harshly, you came with a cry, nails digging into the wood of the desk as your legs trembled.

asahi choked as he came as well, shooting his hot cum into his already ruined boxers as he rested his sweaty forehead against your back, gasping for air as you both rode out the aftershocks.

you don’t know how long you both laid there catching your breath from such a surprisingly strong orgasm, but asahi was the first to move.

you whined at the loss of heat when you felt him pull away, but you all you got was a chuckle as he walked towards the bathroom connected to the office. you stayed in your slumped over position on the desk until you felt warm hands nudge your legs apart and slide your soaked panties down your legs.

you shuddered as asahi cleaned you gently with a wet wash cloth, wiping away the evidence of your little romp before tossing it in the direction of the bathroom and scooping you into his arms, making his way to the bedroom.

you nuzzle your face into his chest, and he can’t help but laugh as his cheeks tinge pink again at your words.

“you’re lucky i love you, otherwise i’d kill you for making me cum in my panties.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before settling you down onto the cool sheets. he had a mischievous but warm glimmer in his eyes.

“it’s alright love, you made me cum in mine, too.”

☾ writing belongs to edens-melodies please do not repost without permission ☾

[write-r-die]

By Tomorrow - Part 6

Masterlist

Henry thought again that he liked having Sybil beside him as he slept. She was a calming presence despite her restlessness. She tossed and turned and muttered all night – even in her sleep she couldn’t quit talking – but she was warm and soft and Henry liked that he wasn’t alone.

Like all unwed men of fighting age, Henry slept in a huge room beneath the keep designated for warriors. It was the same size as the great hall and sometimes packed to the rafters with bodies, which meant Henry never really slept alone. Still. This was different.

His cot was close beside Finn’s, which was nestled into a corner. Finn wasn’t a fighter – he never would be – and ordinarily too young to live in the barracks, but he had no mother or sisters to take care of him since Catherine left, and his father couldn’t very well care for a child on his own, so he was given a spot among the fighters, where there would always be someone to keep an eye on him.

Henry slept there since he was even younger than Finn. Now he’d never sleep there again. He’d be expected to sleep in a cottage, in a bed beside his wife.  It was a somewhat appealing idea – Henry liked soft beds and warm hearths as much as any man – but he’d sleep on a jagged rock without complaint if they were only back on Cavill land.

It would be four of five more days of walking, and husband and wife were both nearing their limits. Physically, it was a miracle that Sybil was keeping pace; mentally, it was a miracle Henry hadn’t lost his patience. He didn’t get angry easily or often, but frustration and exhaustion were getting the best of him.

He was grateful to have a few minutes to himself while Sybil cleaned herself by a brook in the morning. She wasn’t half as dirty as Henry still was from their little adventure a few days before, but she still insisted on being clean.

Henry sat by himself, looking up at the sky through a spray of green leaves. How long would it be before he had time to himself again? All his waking moments would soon be divided between Sybil and his duties to the clan. She was a permanent part of his life now, like his Uncle Patrick’s knee injury from his youth that never quite healed.

“Henry,” Sybil called. Oh God – she’d injured herself somehow, hadn’t she? “Will you help me?”

Henry pushed himself onto his feet and followed the sound of her voice to the stream, where she was furiously combing through her hair with her fingers. It was very long and dramatically dark, but Henry was too distracted by all the dried mud in it to admire it. She didn’t look injured at least.

“What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Can you help me with my hair?”

He grunted in a tone that suggested he required further information.

“It’s filthy,” Sybil said. “I’d like to clean it.”

“We’ll be home in less than a week,” her husband replied. “You can wash it then.”

“Five days is a long time to live with all this dried mud on my clothes and in my hair.”

Silence.

Sybil pressed her full lips into a grim line and glowered at him. “Can you at least help me braid it?”

More silence.

“Oh, never mind.” She gathered her black-brown locks into a large knot at the back of her head and tied a piece of twine punishingly tight around it. the white ribbon was still on her wrist, though only one loop of the bow remained.

A crease formed between Sybil’s eyebrows as her dark gaze fixed on something over her husband’s broad shoulder.

“What’s that?”

Three men on bay horses rode towards them. Sybil couldn’t quite see what they looked like or make out their muted hunting plaid, but she was confident that she’d recognize their proper tartan. Catherine had instructed her on such things.

“Are those MacPhersons?”

Henry spun to face his wife. “Don’t say a word.” He growled that command.

“Surely you –”

“Don’t say a word,” he repeated. “And under no circumstances are you to thank them for anything.”

Well, that was just absurd. And rude. And weren’t the MacPhersons the Cavills’ allies?

She opened her mouth to object, but he silenced her with a furious look. He would need to stop doing that if he wanted them to get along, otherwise she’d be sleeping with one eye open. She wouldn’t be surprised if one night during a full moon, he morphed into a beast and mauled her.

He turned back towards the horsemen, pushing her the slightest bit behind him. She didn’t know why he did it but she didn’t resist or complain

“Is that Henry Cavill I see?” the leader called out.

Henry’s greeting was decidedly stony. “Colin.” It was at least a word this time, not a grunt.

The three men pulled their horses to a stop a few feet away. The two followers wore neutral expressions, though Colin, the blond leader, was smiling brightly.

“Your kin came through here the other day,” Colin said. “They told us to expect you. They said you were stuck in a mudslide during the storm.”

“More or less.”

“I’m sure you’ll be grateful to get home and into a warm bath.”

Henry didn’t reply. It prompted Sybil to start daydreaming about the long baths she took in her copper tub at home. What would the tub be like in her new home? Did they have tubs in Scotland at all, or did they bathe in the freezing loch?

“Poor Catherine, losing her husband. I’m sure she’ll have no trouble finding a new one.”

Henry frowned. Colin, like every other man with a pulse, was keen on Catherine. Her new status as a widow gave him renewed hope. Soon enough, her suitors would start sending gifts and asking permission to see her. Even Alexander Maclean, the Maclean laird’s eldest son and Sybil’s jilted bridegroom, had admired her.

“She got a sister out of it, though,” Colin continued. “And you a fine little wife – albeit an English one.” Colin appraised her. “What is she called?”

“Sybil,” Henry growled.

“A pleasure,” Colin said.

Sybil began greeting him, but Henry cut her off with a sound like growl.

“Here,” he said, flawlessly dismounting. “A wedding gift on behalf of my brother, the laird.”

“You are generous,” Henry said flatly. It was Henry’s standoffish interpretation of a thank-you, Sybil guessed.

Henry felt no gratitude. He knew very well that the horse was an attempt to get into Henry’s good graces so that he might recommend Colin to Catherine as a potential husband. Just another ploy from another man trying to worm his way into Catherine’s sphere.

“Would you care to join us up at the keep for a meal?” Colin said. “It would be no trouble.”

Henry put his wife on horseback, his movements slower and more measured than usual. Perhaps her comment about manhandling had gotten through.

“No,” Henry said. “I’m eager to be back on Cavill land.”

“That, I can well understand,” said Colin. “You’re welcome to feed yourselves from the land. And to spend the night, if need be, but I doubt you’ll still be here by then.”

Henry dipped his head in acknowledgement and they said their farewells.

“Give Catherine my greetings,” Colin said.

Henry grunted.

Henry waited until the MacPhersons had ridden off to join his wife on the horse. The saddle blanket was decorated with the MacPherson tartan; Henry didn’t like seeing another clan’s plaid so close to Sybil, who was his, but there was nothing to be done.

“It’ll only take two more days on horseback to reach home,” Henry said. “It would’ve taken four or five on foot.”

Sybil was too focused on her own words to notice his. “Why wouldn’t you let me talk?”

“If you spoke, you would have complained about your state. It would have reflected poorly on me. It implies that I’m unable to care for you. The same with thanking them – implying they provided something I could not.”

That made sense. Sort of. Well, not really.

“That is not so in England,” Sybil retorted. “There is no shame in admitting you’re hungry or cold. Women don’t hold their husbands accountable for the weather. That would be foolish. And there’s nothing wrong with accepting help from someone, so long as you thank them and eventually return the favor. But that is etiquette, of course, which is an alien concept in your country.”

His answering grunt was insufficient for her. She tilted her head back to look up at him.

“You could at least pretend to listen to me,” she chided.

“I am pretending.” He peered down at her, smirking. She was pouting when she looked forward again. That put him in a bad mood.

Sybil dozed off a few times but always woke herself, usually gasping with surprise as if someone had snuck up on her. Henry knew by now that she was tightly wound and a light sleeper, but her reaction just seemed silly to him.  

She was restless the night before they reached the keep. They’d just crossed the border onto Cavill territory and Henry felt comfortable enough to light a fire.

Sybil stomped in semicircles around the makeshift pit while Henry kindled the flame. “Will they dislike me? Your people, I mean.”

Henry grunted.

“Because I’m English!” huffed his wife, who had translated his noise into a question. “The English and Scots don’t like each other. My brothers used to torment Garrett about his Scottish wife-to-be. They said she’d have a beard like a man and eat from a trough like a pig, and it seemed possible. But then they all laid eyes on Catherine and that was that. Still – I’m a stranger and I’m certainly no Catherine. I barely speak your language and I couldn’t understand Catherine’s accent when she spoke English for the longest time.”

“You seem to understand me just fine,” Henry said.

“Yes, but you barely speak at all, so when you do I try to pay extra attention because I doubt you’re fond of repeating yourself.”

Grunt.

“How many of your people speak English? Will they be able to understand me when I speak? Will they care? Perhaps it’s best if they don’t understand me. That way when I talk it will be easier for them to ignore. They won’t like me, will they? The Scots hate the English.”

“They won’t ignore you,” Henry said, “and they certainly won’t hate you.”

“You can’t know that,” she grumbled.

“I do know. Catherine will take care of it.”

Sybil stopped pacing. “And what will you do?” she asked cautiously.

Henry was still looking at the fire as he shrugged. What does anyone do with a wife? Look after her, go to bed with her – but Henry had the feeling Sybil wouldn’t be terribly enthusiastic about the latter. He’d have to think of something to do about that. He could tell she was attracted to him, but she was understandably wary.

Sybil deflated at his words. She didn’t know what answer she wanted, but that wasn’t it.

Henry didn’t look up, but he could feel his wife’s mood shift. “Come here.”

She shuffled over and sat down beside him. She was careful to leave a bit of space between them; she still wasn’t sure about what their boundaries were.

Henry grunted and motioned for her to come closer. She scootched over until her side was pressed to his. He didn’t put his arm around her or encourage her to rest her head against his shoulder, but it seemed intimate to Sybil.

They sat in silence for the rest of the evening, even as they ate the hare Henry hunted for their supper.

Sybil snuck glances at her husband when she thought he wasn’t looking. He really was handsome. Absurdly so. It wouldn’t be a chore to bed him. At least it shouldn’t be. But the idea that this bedding was just around the corner made her throat close.  

“Why are you looking at me?” he eventually asked, without even a glance in her direction.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

Henry eyed her from the corner of his eye, the irises vivid even in the relative darkness. He frowned and grumbled.

“Where will we live?”

“One of the empty cottages, I imagine,” he said.

“Not the keep?”

“No. There are only a handful of rooms in the keep, and Catherine will be taking the only empty one.”

Sybil frowned. “Well, what cottage? Where is it?”

“You can pick whichever one you like.”

It seemed obvious and insignificant to him, but Sybil was touched. He was taking her feelings into account, thinking about what she wanted. She felt tears of gratitude – and prolonged exhaustion – filling her eyes.

She didn’t trust herself to speak without crying but she wanted to acknowledge the gratitude she felt. Unsure of what else to do, she cautiously rested her head against his oversized shoulder.

A/N: A little short, but they finally arrive in the next one! Get excited! Also new chapter of Prisoner coming soon!

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 21 – Missed Opportunities

Chapter 1     Chapter 20

“You’re not going to be able to make it?  I put it on the calendar and everything.  Physical and digital,” Marinette pouted.

“I know,” Dick groaned in frustration with himself.  “But I’m telling you in advance this time.  I can’t make it.  I’ll watch videos.  I’ll give you extra back massages.  I’ll hire a personal instructor.  I’m sorry.”

“Dick… we rescheduled this twice so you could make it.”  Marinette knew her voice was getting exasperated and angry, but she couldn’t help it.  This kept happening.  He kept missing everything.  At this rate, he was going to miss the birth as well.

“I know but this is… This is really important, Mari,” he begged her to understand.  This could be the missing piece they needed.  He had to go.

“And this,” she indicated her belly, “isn’t?” She was giving him a hard, challenging look.

“That isn’t… I did not say that,” he answered indignantly.

“No, I know.  That wasn’t fair,” she conceded quickly.  It wasn’t Dick’s fault he was going to be gone and he was getting better.  He was letting her know in advance he wasn’t going to make the birthing class.  She collapsed against the counter, her shoulders slumping in defeat.  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Dick let out a long pained sigh.  “I know this is frustrating.  I’m frustrated and upset.  I can’t control the timing for this, for any of this.  And it’s all happening at the same time and it’s all converging and I can’t control any of it.” Dick’s voice got increasingly aggravated as he spoke and his gestures wilder.  He hated the timing of all of this, but he needed to be there.  They had finally been able to track a talon and he needed to trade off with Wally to keep up the tail.  He was the leader.  It was his family he was defending.  He had to go.

Marinette sighed and squared her shoulders.  This was just as trying on him as it was on her and she desperately wanted him not to suffer because of things he couldn’t control.  She cupped his face to bring his focus back to her.  “Yeah, it sucks and I hate it.  But we just need to remember we love each other, right?  We love each other and we want to be together.” she gave him a long, luxuriant kiss. “The universe is messing with us. We aren’t going to let it win.”

Dick observed the determined, loving look in her eyes.  Her confidence grounded him.  Things were bad now, but they would get better.  He would stop this plot and then things would be better.  He rested his hands over hers and smiled.  “We’re going to take on the universe huh?”

Marinette nodded, eyes shining with mirth, “And win.  That part’s important.”

Dick chuckled indulgently. “Of course.  And win.  Together.”

“Together,” Marinette nodded. “As long as we work together and communicate and we’re honest with each other, there’s no way the universe can bring us down.”

It took almost the entirety of Dick’s over a decade of training to hide the wince that resulted from the ‘honest’ comment.  It was like her comment was designed to cut even though he knew it wasn’t.  It still hit hard.  As soon as this was over he could come clean.  He would be honest.  And there wouldn’t be any more secrets between them.  They just needed to hold out for a few more weeks… or months… God, he hoped it wasn’t longer than that.  Instead, he smiled and nudged her nose with his.  “I love you.”

Her responding smile was absolutely brilliant.  “I love you too, Bluebird.”

<><><><><> 

“I’m so sorry I’m going to miss it.”  The remorse in Marinette’s voice was clear even over the speaker.  She was still in the office working on a few last minute issues with Lucius on issues with the fabric.

“It’s okay, Marinette.  I understand,” Dick calmly assured her.

“Yeah, we get it, Pixie Pop.  Your show is coming up really… long time from now,” Jason teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes, reveling in the chaos he was unleashing.

“It isn’t long.  It’s short. Really short,” Marinette ranted, the words spilling out quickly.  “Only a few weeks.  Can you believe it’s just a few weeks away?  I should have everything done and be working on details now.  Rachel, do not emulate this.  I expect you to be better than me.”

Lucius chuckled.  “Every inventor and creator I know does this.  This is always what it is like right before a debut.  You’re doing fine.”

“I’ve seen what you have so far, it looks amazing already,” Stephanie assured her. And it did.  She was completely blown away with what Marinette had done.

“No kidding.  You made me willing to wear designer clothes,” Duke agreed.

“Do you need anything Marinette?  Do you need me to bring over something to eat or drink?  Did you take your vitamins today?” Dick fussed.  He knew how she was when she was working and it was already dinner time.  If he knew her, and he did, then she didn’t even realize how late it was yet.

“Thank you, Dick.  I’m fine. You guys just enjoy your night together. And yes I did,” she assured him. Despite not being able to see her, Dick knew she had a smile on her face.

“Okay, I’ll let you get back to work, but I’ll see you at home tonight, right? You’re not going to spend all night there working on it?” Dick asked pointedly.

“Don’t worry Mr. Grayson.  I’ll make sure she doesn’t work herself too hard.  I’ve already ordered food in for us and a company car to take Rachel home after dinner and another for Marinette at 9, so she has to leave by then,” Lucius assured him with a chuckle.

“You two do realize I’m not a child, right?” Marinette snapped.

“Of course.  You’re an adult.  An extremely self-sacrificing, prone to self-destruction adult.  You’ll fit right into the Wayne family whenever Mr. Grayson finally wakes up.” They could hear Lucius’ smirk through the phone as well as Rachel’s giggle and Marinette’s squeak.

“Rachel!” she exclaimed a few octaves higher than normal.  “Do not encourage him!”

“Absolutely encourage him,” Stephanie called out loudly.

“Rachel, you’re supposed to be on my side.” They could tell she was trying to be offended but couldn’t quite pull it off.  “You know what?  Don’t you have homework to do?  You should be doing your homework.”

“I already got my homework done before I came here and the essay that’s due Monday,” Rachel answered easily.

“Oh, well that’s… very well organized.  Good job, Rachel,” Marinette admitted grudgingly.

“Well, somebody here should be,” Lucius teased.

“And you!  You know what, you don’t need to be here.  In fact, you’re not welcome here anymore.  You can go home.  Call a car for yourself,” Marinette growled playfully.

“Might I remind you, this is my office,” Lucius responded, completely nonplussed by her comment.

“You might, but it won’t change my previous statement.”  Lucius’ laughter rang clear through the phone, a clear indication that Marinette had punctuated her retort by sticking her tongue out at him.

“Lucius, stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Dick implored with a smile.

“Mr. Grayson, if I wanted to flirt with your girlfriend, she would no longer be your girlfriend,” Lucius responded smoothly.

“Oooooooh, damn,” Duke laughed.  “So that’s what total destruction looks like.”

“Lucius,” Marinette admonished him, “don’t say true things like that to him. One of us being a nervous wreck with a tendency to spiral into anxiety induced death spirals and nightmares is enough.”

“You okay, fam?” Tim asked cautiously.  He looked over to Dick to see how much of what she had said should be taken seriously and judging by the frown on his face, all of it except the Lucius part.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Marinette answered in an overly confident, chipper voice. They could just picture the toothy, too wide grin on her face and twitching eye.  “Just another few weeks and it will all be over,” she continued. “One way or another,” she added quietly.

“I know you’re dreading the end of our association when you’re sought out by every major name in the business, but I think your future husband is more than happy to have you out of my influence,” Lucius teased.  “Until he realizes there’s another year on the contract.”

“Yeah, okay.  On that note, I’m going to let you get back to work so Marinette can get home and in bed at a reasonable time.  Lucius… I’m keeping my eye on you,” he said in a stern voice that anyone else might have taken as serious.

Lucius laughed.  “Understood, Mr. Grayson.  Have a good night.”

“Love you, Bluebird.  Have fun, guys.” Marinette called out to them.

“Night Marinette!” Jason, Duke, Stephanie and Tim yelled to her.

“Love you too.  Night,” Dick said before hanging up.  He tapped the phone against his lips with a concerned frown.  He wasn’t doing enough to lessen her stress.  She was still too stressed and it wasn’t good for the babies. Maybe he could give her a massage tonight.  He plastered on a smile and turned to the others.  “Let’s get this movie started.”

“Is she always like that?” Duke asked after a few minutes.

“Like what?” Dick tried to give him a confused look but Duke just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.  “Yeah, lately, yeah.  Stress from the show.  When the show is over she should be much more relaxed.  Adrien seems to think this is completely normal and expected for her.”

“Cass and I would take her out for another girl’s night if we thought it would help, but at this point, I don’t think there is anything we can do but not add to her stress,” Stephanie grimaced.

“What a thought, not adding to Pixie’s stress,” Jason glared at Dick, a look that Dick didn’t miss.

Tim looked awkwardly between Dick and Jason.  “So… going back to what Lucius said, you thinking about proposing to Marinette?”

Dick looked away from Jason and blinked a few times, trying to get his mind to switch tracks.  “I have a ring, but not now.  Not yet. We love each other, but I don’t think we’re there yet.  There’s still trust issues,” Dick shrugged.

Jason scoffed and took a drink.  “Have anything to do with you abandoning her regularly with no notice and sketchy ass excuses?”

Dick glared at him.  “Probably,” he growled, knowing full well that was exactly what it was.  All of their problems boiled down to the Titans and him focusing too much on figuring out the Court of Owl plan.  All the missed appointments, all the missed life events, all the broken promises, were all because of Titan activity.  

“Have you thought about just… telling her?” Tim asked carefully.

Dick drew in a deep, frustrated breath.  Of course he had.  They all pushed him to tell her constantly.  Bruce had even given his blessing.  He could just tell her and alleviate a lot of their issues, but he refused to put that on her while she was already under so much stress and according to the doctor, it was dangerous for her to be under any.  He couldn’t control the fashion show but he could control this.  He wasn’t going to endanger the twins and Marinette just to make himself more comfortable.

She already got so worried about him from the injuries he came home with.  She would get that adorable, heartbreaking concerned frown and furrowed brow every time she looked at them, and since some of them took weeks to heal, she had that expression every day, several times a day for weeks.  After one particularly bad fight with Double Dare, she had nightmares for days about him getting hurt and then the babies getting caught in an attack.  He wasn’t about to tell her he did that regularly and induce nightmares every night while she was pregnant.

“You know, you’re going to have a couple kids with her pretty soon.  It might be important information for her,” Jason prodded.

“If Grayson doesn’t want to tell her, he has every right not to,” Damian interjected.

“Thank you, Damian,” Dick responded, silently, momentarily thankful he didn’t have the same protective streak for Marinette that the rest of the family had acquired.

“He knows her better than the rest of us and if he does not find her trustworthy, that insight should be respected,” Damian finished, returning his attention to the movie.

“What?” Dick exclaimed looking back at Damian in shock.  Was that really what Damian was getting from this?  Is that why he thought Dick didn’t want to tell Marinette?  “That’s not… Damian that is not why I haven’t…”

“She should know if she’s going to be doing this alone,” Jason interrupted. His voice was hard and accusatory, as it often was with Dick lately.

Distantly, Dick heard someone gasp and shuffle around, but he was far too focused to process it.  “She won’t be doing it alone,” Dick growled back.  Jason had been exceptionally hostile lately, more so than even Adrien, but the insinuation that Dick would abandon his family was going too far. “I’m going to be there for her and the babies.”

“I can’t hear the movie,” Damian warned them.

“Shut it, Imitation’s Imitation,” Jason snarled before rounding back on Dick. “Are you?  When does that start?  ‘Cuz you sure as Hell haven’t been so far.”

“Jason,” Stephanie tried to interject.

“I’ve had…” Dick started.

“Yeah, yeah.  Vigilante business, which has always been more important than making baby appointments, more important than being there for Marinette.  You need to figure out if you’re Nightwing or a father.”

“I’m both,” Dick gritted out through his teeth.

“But which is more important?” Jason argued

“Being a father, of course,” Dick yelled out.

“That’s not how it looks right now.  How many appointments have you missed?  How many events?  You abandon her constantly for things that other people could easily handle and eventually, she’s going to figure out that you don’t actually work for WE, and what’s your plan for that?  Or is that plan?  Let her figure it out and walk away from you so you don’t have to be the bad guy?”

“Shouldn’t your loyalty be to Grayson?  You’ve switched loyalties rather quickly.  One look from a pretty woman and as expected you turn your back on your family,” Damian snarled, finally turning away from the movie.  

“What the fuck do you think she is?  She’s family.  She’s carrying your niece and nephew.  They are our family, all three of them even if Dickhead walks away from them.  They are still our family and they deserve some consideration too,” Jason yelled back.

Damian opened his mouth to respond but Cass moved next to him, shaking her head. Damian grunted, but acquiesced, letting Dick and Jason fight it out between themselves.

“What is your obsession with me leaving them?  It’s not going to happen.  I’m not going to abandon them!” Dick howled.

Jason shook his head and gave a bitter chuckle.  His voice suddenly back to an eerily normal level.  “You’re right.  You always are, Golden Boy.  ‘I’m not going to’ would imply a future event.  You already have abandoned them.”

“Fuck you!  I have not.” The lowering of Jason’s voice only made Dick’s anger surge.  He was acting like he won an argument, like it was already over.  It was far from over.  “I’ve been doing everything in my power to protect them.  Whatever the Court of Owls is planning it is going to be huge and devastating, and we now know it includes Gotham.  I’ve been doing nothing but investigating them for months to stop them.  I’ve fought talons, I’ve tracked down associates, fuck, I’ve gotten captured by talons and had to get saved by Garth and Donna.”

“They should have kept you,” Jason grumbled, heading to the door.  “I’m going to go check on Pixie Pop.  It’s getting late, someone should and naturally, that someone won’t be you.”

Dick seethed as he stared at the door Jason left through.  How dare he?  How dare he! He had no right to suggest not only was Dick abandoning them, but that he wanted to.  Abandoning her was the last thing he wanted to do.  He didn’t want to leave in the middle of dates.  He didn’t want to miss the babies kicking.  He didn’t want to miss entire weeks of development.  He didn’t want to miss snuggling with Marinette.  He didn’t want to sleep without her.  He did all of that because he was protecting her, because he loved her.  He couldn’t just pass off all of his responsibilities to someone else.  He was the team leader.  He had to be the one to make the decisions.

“You okay?” Tim asked gently.  He wanted to make sure Dick was okay, but wasn’t looking to incur his wrath.  Jason had said everything that needed to be said, now Dick just needed to calm down and consider the words.

“He doesn’t understand.  He doesn’t understand what it means to be a leader, what it means to be a father,” Dick growled.

Tim looked away and gave a heavy sigh.  He wasn’t listening.  He decided he was doing the right thing and he wouldn’t listen to any other opinions. He’d dedicated himself to this course and he wouldn’t be swayed.  He’d gotten better about it in the last few years, but still had miles to go.  “Maybe,” he granted, turning to look Dick, his eyes hardened to steel, “but he does know what it means to be abandoned.”

Chapter 22

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

words: 2.4k

pairing: azumane a. x f!reader

prompt: clothed sex + dry humping

warnings: cursing, dry humping, exactly one (1) spank, cumming in underwear (how pathetic), asahi being a whiny dom lmao

summary: being married to asahi had its advantages, especially seeing as he can custom make your clothes. but sometimes you just happen to look a little too good in them.

azumane asahi does not consider himself a vain or arrogant man, especially in his line of work. if anything, he’s too humble, often selling himself short of his accomplishments and shyly accepting praise.

gentle, understanding, sweet. it’s just in his nature and he’s always been like this for as long as he can remember.

despite his large stature and somewhat intimidating face, the truth of the matter is that azumane asahi is a massive teddy bear, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

especially when that big teddy bear currently had you pressed up firmly against his desk in your home office, large hands gripping your clothed hips as he ground his aching cock against your ass desperately through his underwear.

a deep whine crawled from his throat as his grip tightened and he pulled you closer, panting in your ear before nipping it lightly.

you couldn’t help but follow his slow grind, head spinning in lust as you struggled to remember how you ended up in this situation.

——————

~ one hour previously ~

(e/c) eyes narrowed in concentration as you tried your hardest to not alert the large man in front of you of your presence. he continued to hum a light tune as he carried on measuring the piece of fabric for his newest design.

an evil smile curled your lips as you continued to creep behind him, stopping when you were just a couple of inches away from him.

this is gonna be good.

“boo!”

everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as you watched your husband seize up and throw his hands into the air in shock, the piece of fabric he had been measuring launching above your head as he let out a blood curdling scream.

you had to admit, the pitch of it was impressive, especially for a man his age and size. you watched as he whipped around in fear and the sheer look of shock and minute terror almost made you feel bad for scaring him so bad.

almost.

asahi shot you a weak glare as he clutched his chest, ignoring the loud cackling as he fought to calm his heart down before it beat straight out of his chest. he was way too young to have a heart attack.

you continued to cackle while pointedly ignoring the unamused look your husband was giving you. bending over swiftly you picked up the silky piece of fabric that flew from his hands and placed it back on the desk.

sighing dramatically, you plopped your body onto his lap, lightly clasping your hands around his neck as you smiled cheekily up at him.

asahi rolled his eyes but smiled softly anyways, bringing his arms around your waist to tug you further into his chest. he buried his nose in your hair and sighed in content. maybe he did need a break.

“y’know,” he muttered, gently rocking you in his arms as you closed your eyes in content. “there are better ways to tell me that you want attention without trying to give me a stroke, love.”

you snickered again before leaning forward and off his chest, twisting your abdomen so (e/c) eyes could lock with warm brown, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him and roll your eyes as your brought your hand to his cheek.

he quirked an eyebrow questioningly as you began to softly stroke his cheek. “you’re right,” you muse, smiling warmly at him. asahi widened his eyes slightly in shock. you never agree with him so easily-

“but then who’s supposed to keep you on your toes and try to make you shit yourself at least twice a day?”

you finished nonchalantly and asahi groaned as he tossed his head back in defeat. there was definitely no winning with you.

you hummed softly to yourself as asahi completely slumped in his chair, defeated. curious eyes scan over the messy desk, old sketches and notes strewn over the surface.

you quietly appreciated his art and designs, admiring them all until a certain paper caught your eye.

brown eyes cracked open when he heard you let out a soft but excited squeal, wiggling in his lap to get a better look at the paper.

he saw your eyes glued to one of his newest designs and he could help but chuckle at the look of pure awe and amazement in your gaze. you always had a knack for attaching yourself to his favorites.

the design was for a great gatsby themed cocktail dress, the notes indicating that the material was made of velvet and you practically could feel how soft the fabric would be. the colors were mainly gold and black, accents of silver trailing up to the thin spaghetti straps that crossed into an “x” on otherwise bare back,

it ended just at the top of the figures thighs, the front of the dress having an elegant twist just below the bust and spreading into the ruched detailing on the sides. it looked absolutely stunning.

you let out a low whistle, quirking an eyebrow as your gaze never left the finished sketch.

“babe, i know i say this a lot, but you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

your husband gives a sheepish smile before hiding his blushing face in your neck as you continue to stare at the sheet.

“it’s not that impressive, really...” he trails off, but before he could continue to self deprecate, you delivered a swift but firm chop to his head, causing him to splutter. (suga would be proud)

“what did i say about taking compliments?” you challenge him with a firm voice, and he sighs. “fine!” he exclaims before huffing childishly. “...i guess i did okay.” he murmurs as he rests his chin on your shoulder and you smile, having won.

bringing a hand up to gently stroke his hair, your voice audibly softens when you whisper your praise to him again. “it really is gorgeous, asa.” asahi’s heart melted at how soft you sounded, at how much love was in your words.

asahi constantly tells himself everyday how lucky he is to have you in his life, especially as his wife. he loves you so much it hurts his chest sometimes, and it warms him like nothing else when he knows you love him just as much.

you’re his biggest fan, always supporting him through all his trials and tribulations, no matter what. you like to call yourself his personal cheerleader and even joke around saying “you should design me an cheer uniform, that way my role will be taken official.”

speaking of wearing what he designs, asahi wraps his arms around your waist again, pulling you in close to bring his lips to your ear. “if you like it so much, could you do me a favor?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, staring down his blushing but determined face from the corner of your eye.

“hmm? and just what do you have in mind, love?”

~~~~~

your eyes seemed to be glued to the mirror, lips permanently dropped open as you took in the sight of your body in the exact same dress from your husband’s sketch.

fuck you looked hot.

asahi stood behind you, his tall frame towering over you as he smiled bashfully at your reflection, hand scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“i had already had the mind for you to model it for me to see how well it would look in person instead of just on paper.” his eyes trailed down your body as the dress hugged every one of your curves deliciously, and he couldn’t help but take a nervous gulp.

“but you always seem to exceed my expectations.” now it was your turn to blush as you turned away from the mirror, not missing the way his lips turned up in a light smirk at your pink cheeks.

you turn around to gaze up at him, admiring the way his eyes seem to twinkle behind his glasses as he smiled at you with love and pride. he looked so cute, being confident and all. you wanted to just eat him up.

asahi didn’t back away from you as you approached him slowly like a creeping lioness. he also didn’t back down from your heated gaze as you locked eyes with him, and a smile appeared on his lips when he saw you shiver at the same fire that was dancing behind his eyes, too.

you rested your chin on his chest as you stared up at him, big doe eyes gleaming up at him in innocence when you were anything but.

his arms wrapped around your frame and squeezed before one large hand trailed down the softness of your dress to settle on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and delighting in the small moan you let out.

“you know,” your drawl, hands coming up to trail your nails down the expanse of his back lightly, enjoying the way he shivered as he stared back at you.

“i really like how this dress looks on me, but maybe i would look better if we took it off?”

——————

~ presently ~

you moaned as your husband continued to grind his clothed cock into your ass, voice catching when he angled just right to slip between your thighs and nudge against your clit.

you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, desperate to finally shed the dress that now felt too hot against your flushed skin and let him have his way with you, but it seemed like he had other plans for you.

his grip was vice like on your hips and you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises tomorrow. if anything, it only fueled the fire that was coiling in your belly like a spring. soft asahi was hot, but a needy, dominant asahi was downright sinful.

asahi nipped your ear even harsher this time, a warning to keep still and behave. he continued to rut against your ass, biting back another whine at the delicious friction the soaked fabric felt against his weeping cockhead.

“asahi! please!” you whined, grinding your ass against him as your fingers gripped the edge of the desk harshly, hoping to convince him to let you go. “i wanna feel your cock inside me already! just take my dress off!” he chuckled at the whininess of your voice, but ignored your pleas.

he growled lightly when he felt you soaking through the cloth of his underwear, your slick already having destroyed your cute little thong you teased him with earlier when you stripped to put the dress on.

“why should i listen to you when all you do is bully and tease me, hm?” he muttered darkly into your ear, purposefully angling his bulge to jam right against your clit and groaning when you let out a high pitched moan. you knew he wasn’t gonna let go of you scaring him so easily.

“ i-i said i was s-sorryyy!” you wail as his hips stop grinding against you and instead begin to thrust at an even pace, his cock dragging along your clit with each pass.

the coil in your stomach was growing slowly, the pleasure you were receiving was enough to make you throb and keen, but not enough to push you over. you needed more.

asahi panted as he slightly sped up, some of his hair sticking to his forehead as he broke out into a sweat, the friction pushing him slowly to the peak, and though all he wanted was to just rip your underwear off and split you in two, he was gonna teach you a lesson.

“you say that everytime, darling,” he growled the last word into your ear, making you whine and soak through your destroyed panties even more. “but we both know you’re just gonna do it again.”

his hips picked up the pace until he was practically fucking you through your clothes, the slickness from your cunt and his precum allowing him to glide across your slit with ease as he pushed you both closer to the edge.

“a-as-a-hi!!” you squealed as he slapped his hips against your ass, eyes screwing shut as the friction sparked your clit deliciously, panting against the cool surface of the desk as all you could do was let him make you about to cum in your panties.

asahi was no better, choked whines and moans leaving his pink lips as he grit his teeth together in concentration, chocolate eyes drinking in the way you looked bent over his desk as his cock dragged against your clit, (s/c) skin glowing and complimenting the dress you were in, the one he designed.

he curled his body over yours, hips never stopping their pace as he placed kiss after kiss on your exposed back before sinking his teeth into your flesh, a loud whine ripping through him as he feels himself near his peak.

with one particularly hard thrust against your clit and one of his hands coming down to slam against your ass harshly, you came with a cry, nails digging into the wood of the desk as your legs trembled.

asahi choked as he came as well, shooting his hot cum into his already ruined boxers as he rested his sweaty forehead against your back, gasping for air as you both rode out the aftershocks.

you don’t know how long you both laid there catching your breath from such a surprisingly strong orgasm, but asahi was the first to move.

you whined at the loss of heat when you felt him pull away, but you all you got was a chuckle as he walked towards the bathroom connected to the office. you stayed in your slumped over position on the desk until you felt warm hands nudge your legs apart and slide your soaked panties down your legs.

you shuddered as asahi cleaned you gently with a wet wash cloth, wiping away the evidence of your little romp before tossing it in the direction of the bathroom and scooping you into his arms, making his way to the bedroom.

you nuzzle your face into his chest, and he can’t help but laugh as his cheeks tinge pink again at your words.

“you’re lucky i love you, otherwise i’d kill you for making me cum in my panties.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before settling you down onto the cool sheets. he had a mischievous but warm glimmer in his eyes.

“it’s alright love, you made me cum in mine, too.”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie

[elevatorladylady]

Series Analysis: The Folk of The Air

I went through this series a couple of times before setting it down and I wanted to break down some of the things that really worked with this series and what didn't.

The Pros

Morally Grey Characters

This series does a really good job of introducing a lot of morally grey characters. Madoc is a murderer and puts his daughter and eventual foster daughters through a huge trauma, but he is also the only kind of parent these kids have after that and more or less treats them with love and respect in the household.

This sets up some really interesting dynamics as well that just have to be complicated and weird for everyone. Vivi is the priority when Madoc comes to Jude’s parents, but she’s also the oldest and is least interested in following along with Madoc’s interests. Jude and Taryn end up being more interested in the life Madoc has forced them into and they have to grapple with the guilt of actually enjoying any parts of their life with him.

There is also always a bit of grey morality when the culture is more or less okay with cruel and murderous acts whether it’s used as a way to dispense justice or if it’s just because the people in power cannot be held accountable for their actions. 

But despite this wonderfully nuanced set up, I have some complaints about the way a lot of these things get simplified.

Humans and the Folk

I really love that we get to explore the differences in the cultures and biological differences between these groups. The inability to lie presents a lot of interesting moments between Jude and Cardan that really show how that kind of difference can impact the words you choose and the ways people can use language to put on a front with or without lies.

The differences between the two worlds is a really interesting juxtaposition and I  think it’s great to get to see our main characters navigate both spaces. The folk have an advantage in the human world and can more easily inhabit it than a human can inhabit the faerie world. We see how Jude has been hardened by her experiences and can’t easily just take up a normal human life.

Vivi and Heather are such a great dynamic to explore the power dynamic between humans and faeries. Vivi has good intentions with her human girlfriend but by ignoring the ways fae can and will harm humans, she inadvertently puts her human girlfriend in danger, and uses that power against her.

Jude and Cardan’s Character Arcs

I do have some complaints but I love the way these arcs unfold. Jude is a powerless girl and then she becomes as powerful as she possibly can when controlling cardan and has to grapple with the cost of having this power and how the power didn’t end up protecting her in the way she thought it could. She learns that at some point she cannot control everything in her life through sheer will and force, and that she is going to be more fulfilled and potentially safer by learning to put her trust in others.

Cardans arc is more about finding himself. He is not respected or appreciated by his family and friends unless he’s being awful, but we start to see change almost immediately when he’s removed from that. He can just be with the court of shadows and he can be more open and honest about his desires and motivations with Jude. As king he is once again forced into a role, but this time he gets to try on different variations of being king. He’s one of the spies with the court of shadows, he’s his old self with his friends minus the cruelty with his friends, he’s a king in front of his subjects, and he’s a more open and vulnerable version of himself with Jude. He’s still being forced into a lot of these roles, but this gives him a chance to find his footing and decide who he might want to be when Jude isn’t forcing him into things. And he ends up choosing to be a better person in those roles than before.

The Cons

Black and White Ending

Jude and Cardan are morally grey earlier on and we get a lot of Jude questioning her own decisions, but by giving the ending giving her ultimate power as king and queen and the narrative affirming this as good takes away the complex morality of these characters.

By the end they are considered benevolent leaders by the land and the people, and Madoc and those that followed him are bad people who deserve punishment. Jude gets to hand out punishments as she see fits without anyone but Cardan being able to check her (and we know he probably won’t). Jude is even encouraged to treat everyone as if they are beneath her. These two have ultimate power and they will likely be harmful to some of their people regardless of their efforts otherwise and even more so if they aren’t proactive about how they lead.

The book ends with a toast to schemes, but they aren’t scheming anymore. They are fully embracing their public facing roles and enjoying their personal roles. While Oak is still technically supposed to take the throne there is zero indication throughout that he wants it and they are also clear that they won’t force him into it, so it no longer even feels like a temporary thing for Jude and Cardan to rule.

I would have preferred an ending where we see Jude map out a new ultimate scheme to dismantle the monarchy or distribute power to lower courts or something more radical to show that shes not just going to be another person with unchecked power.

It also squarely puts Madoc as bad and everyone on his side as bad with the punishments Jude hands out. Madoc is the main antagonist here, but is Jude really better than all of the people that were willing to follow Madoc? Do those people deserve to have their hands stained or live as birds when Jude will be shown deference by every person in their kingdom. Jude made a play for the crown too, and the only reason she doesn’t get punished is because she was successful. And then we’re supposed to joke about the idea of Madoc’s punishment in the human world and he’s just reduced to the blundering bigot in the family that you just accept as such.

And Vivi’s dynamic with Heather also gets simplified to just caring about the betrayal of the glamour instead of the ongoing dynamic that Vivi has to be an advocate for Heather in the faerie world and she has to always be mindful of the power dynamic.

The final scene really just feels like the end of a rom com even though these dynamics have really serious and troubling elements. 

Taryn’s Redemption

This dynamic also suffers from the shift to a black and white but it starts even earlier. Taryn’s betrayal with Locke is horrendous. It’s so personal and it cuts really deep compared to the political betrayal with Madoc.

I don’t believe the level of acceptance and forgiveness Jude gives Taryn at nearly every step. Her initial interest into wanting some kind of relationship once she becomes hand of the king is understandable, but it quickly turns into Jude doing quite a lot to preserve Taryn’s feelings. Jude wants Cardan to keep Locke in check, Jude doesn’t want to bother Taryn before her wedding with her almost murder, she doesn’t want her to know her husband tried to kill her, and she threatens Locke to keep him in line multiple times. It just doesn’t make sense that she would care so much to protect Taryn’s feelings from the guy that she chose over Jude especially when Taryn’s only kindness to Jude is designing great clothes for her.

All of this sets up even more problems for how things go in the final book. If Taryn’s only betrayal had been the political one, I could see Jude getting past it, but she does it when hasn’t even remotely atoned for the deeply personal one. Jude is rightfully angry but forgives her almost immediately when she learns about the baby. Jude has maybe one line about whether or not she can trust her sister again but her actions suggest she’s completely over it and eager to have a nice sisterly dynamic.

This could have been a really interesting dynamic about dealing with someone you love but can’t trust. It could have been more interesting if Jude had actually killed Locke when he came after her and Jude had to grapple with the guilt despite him being awful. Or even Taryn realizing her mistake earlier and pleading for Jude’s help to get out of it.

And Locke also just becomes a full on villain. Maybe you need that, but he was more interesting when he seemed to have a boundary with the physical violence.

[capaimagines]

got7 - married life 

Pairing: Got 7 x Reader | Genre: fluff | Warnings: none | WC: 1.4k

im jaebeom

↬ Expect a quiet and comfortable life with JB.

↬ He likes to keep his private life, well private.

↬ Enjoys to read a lot, can imagine having a whole room just sectioned off full of books.

↬ Still easily gets flustered even if you two have been married for years; you’re favorite thing to do is make his cheeks flush a shade of crimson.

↬ Cats galore! If you ever wanted to be a ‘crazy cat lady’, JB will be more than happy to indulge you in that.

↬ Definitely could see him taking you on plenty of cat café dates.

↬ While he doesn’t like to brag or show off, he is more than happy to show everyone that you are his. He loves you and he’s proud to call you his and he’ll make sure that you know that and everyone else in his life.

↬ Be understanding; if he’s still an idol, he will have days, weeks or months where he will be solely focused on music and preparing. Though he will always make sure he’ll come home to you.

↬ Refuses to go to bed if you two are angry at each other, will want to talk it out and at least come to a common ground if it’s late and you two need to sleep.

↬ Forehead kisses all the time as well as back hugs. Enjoys morning coffee with you while watching the sun rise.

mark tuan

↬ Gamer husband all the way.

↬ Loves to have you sit on his lap while he’s playing games, but much prefers that you would join him to battle together.

↬ Lots of dinner dates and coffee dates. Just loves taking you places outside the dorms and apartment.

↬ He loves you dearly and while he might not show it or say it as much as much to your face, you still know. When he brings you lunch to your work, when he picks you up on random days after your shift, when he seems to know on your bad days just exactly what food you like to eat.

↬ He’s pretty quiet, but once you get the conversation started, he will talk your ear off. He’s still shy around you, even after being married for a year now and dated for three before that.

↬ Loves holding you in his arms; it makes him feel as if he’s protecting you and you love feeling him around you.

↬ Would do anything and everything for you if you asked.

park jinyoung 

↬ Another one you can expect a quiet and comfortable life with.  

↬ Also likes to keep his private life private, but has no problem bragging about how amazing you are.

↬ Very much a family orientated man and will always be happy to go visit your parents or his or have friends over for a get together.

↬ Impromptu dates is what he likes to do because it always incorporates things you both love.

↬ Will not go to sleep without you being there by his side.

↬ Loves when you randomly get all dolled up just to surprise him with no where to go.

↬ Cooking with you is one of his favorite things to do to past time, but he absolutely loves cooking for you. It’s one way he feels he can show how much he truly cares for you.

↬ You love to watch the drama’s he stars in and you always give him feedback and tell him how amazing you think he is. 

jackson wang

↬ Lots and lots of traveling around the world.

↬ Loves watching you and his mom interact because despite the language barrier, you two seem to just get each other and enjoy each other’s company.

↬ Constantly gives you some of his merch and clothing line and loves it when you wear it to bed and nothing else.

↬ You’re no stranger to going in and modeling for him and he loves to watch you in the clothes he designed.

↬ He’s a busy man but never hesitates to drop everything and be there for you when you need him. All you have to do is tell him and you can expect him to be home within 10 minutes.

↬ Always posts pictures of you two on social media and expressing just how much he loves you, how amazing you are and how he’s the luckiest person in the world.

↬ Petty arguments between you two because you’re both opinionated, but nothing that you two can’t talk out and get over

↬ When it is a serious argument, he makes sure to make time to sit down and talk with you about it sincerely. He’ll never just brush it off to the side or leave it to sit and brew.

↬ Anyone can see how much he truly loves you by the way he gazes at you when you’re not looking.

choi youngjae

↬ Lots of trips to the dog park.

↬ Coco is your child now, you can’t change that and if he can’t accept it, there will be issues.

↬ In all seriousness, he loves and adores you. Loves to just walk around the city with you and hold your hand.

↬ You love to hear him sing, especially when it’s random and he thinks no one is listening or watching.

↬ You try to take him to karaoke quite often just to hear him sing but also so he can let loose and not feel pressured that it needs to be perfect.

↬ He does tend to get down on himself and you’re always there to pull him back up. You’re his constant reminder that he’s perfect the way he is and that you love him the way he is.

↬ He honestly feels he could never find anyone as perfect for him as you are; you are his true soulmate. 

bambam

↬ He will spoil you everyday on end.

↬ You were more than surprised at the rock he gave you when he proposed, let alone the matching one when you got married.  

↬ Will literally buy you anything and everything; even if you are eyeing something off, you can expect it to be somewhere in your home the next day.

↬ Loves to buy you gifts and take you on lavish vacations and fine dining is the ways he shows he loves you best.

↬ Loves to show you off and has no shame at all, no matter who is around.

↬ Mom’s around? He doesn’t care; he’ll kiss you all over. Friends are there?  Doesn’t care; he’ll have you sit on his lap the whole time.

↬ Despite the gifts and slight possessiveness, he does love when it’s just you two hanging out and eating food together without normal life distractions.

↬ Likes to teach you how to make Thai food and is always asking his mom for some recipes. Despite not the best cook, he eats it nonetheless because you tried for him because you know he misses his native food.

↬ Cuddling is a must; he always wants to have your back pressed against his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair.

↬ Absolutely loves taking bubble baths with you. It’s the most relaxing thing in the world for him.

kim yugyeom

↬ Expect lots and lots of dancing.

↬ Many dates that include dancing, as well as dance classes together.

↬ Constantly love to blast the music and just goof around with you.

↬ You always re-watch his Hit The Stage performance and find something new to compliment him on. You do it because you love how flustered it makes him and it makes him extremely happy.

↬ He is always playing with your wedding band when you two are holding hands.  It’s his little reminder that you are his for the rest of your lives and how proud he is that you chose him to spend it with.

↬ Loves it when you hold him, but when you’re going to sleep he loves to hold you.

↬ Has a small photo of you in his wallet of your wedding day that he keeps behind his license. He loves to just pull it out and look at it when he’s feeling stressed or just missing you.

↬ Loves you more than you can ever imagine and will do quite literally anything for you. 

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Stay With Me (Pt. 07 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

<- Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22, who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

×

If You Love Me...

You've seen death. Often, cruel, cold. From afar and from up close. You felt it, in many different ways. At first when your family passed away, then your friends... And you felt it in your body too, in the months you spent held captive, wishing for it. And in the car, as you waited for it.

But it's different now. You were holding onto Melanie when she stopped moving, stopped breathing, the second after the baby cried for the very first time. Her whole body went numb, turned off. She knew her pregnancy was dangerous. Melanie is old, and she had a heart condition. That was the reason why she never tried for a baby before. But now, with the world on its end, she decided to try. Death is certain, she told you once, and if she died in the process of delivering her child, she'd die happy. With a purpose.

But of course, you never thought it would actually happen.

The commotion that followed happened in a blur. Carol passed you the child in a hurry, pushing you out of the room.

You know what happens now. Daryl told you a while ago. Everyone who dies comes back. Everyone is infected. You try not to think about it, to focus on life instead of death.

And that's what you're holding in your arms now. Life. Tiny and fresh, his little cries making your body move out of instinct, slowly swinging from side to side until he's quiet again.

When it's done, and Melanie's dead body won't raise up again, Carol comes and you help her clean the baby. Luke, after her late husband. Denise is quick to gather all the baby supplies needed, and she starts telling you and Carol what to do. Carol already knows, of course, because of her daughter Sofia.

It's quite obvious Carol will take care of the child. It's implied by how Denise is so focused on her, talking fast, gesturing a lot. She's a little funny actually, and easy to talk to. Once little Luke is clean and dressed in his first clothes, in a pale shade of blue, Carol picks him up and he starts crying, with powerful lungs. She starts mumbling, talking to the baby, but he doesn't stop.

“Alright, alright.” She whispers. “Shh.”

“Does he need anything?” You ask, watching as Carol bounces him slowly.

“We did everything. Maybe he's in pain.” Denise removes some of the hair that has fallen on her face. “Let's take him to the infirmary so I can take a look.”

“Ok.” Carol agrees, raising her voice above the baby's cries. “(Y/N), can you carry him? These bags are too heavy for you and–” You quickly step forward, once again welcoming the baby into your arms “–you still need to be careful with your...” Her voice fades as Luke stops crying, his tears shining on his cheeks.

He's so light you feel like you're barely holding anything. “He stopped,” Denise mutters. “I don't think he was in pain.”

Looking down at the baby, you stand there, motionless. “What do you think it was?” You ask in a low voice.

“Uhm, I don't know. Maybe he likes you.” She mumbles, hands on her hips. “Carol, do you think you can take care of him? If not we'll have to find a family willing to adopt.”

“We can.” You burst out, because suddenly the idea of giving Like into another family sounds absurd. “Can we? I'm sure you can teach me and I'll help.”

“We sure can.” She affirms, and you smile. “Let's get going now. They will soon come to bury Melanie.” Her voice gets darker in the end, heavier.

The whole city attempted to Melanie's funeral. You stood there, beside Carol, little Luke in your arms. You felt anxious when some people came to meet the baby, offering you their condolences and any help you might need now. But eventually, she's buried, and you can't help but let a few tears roll down. Melanie was always kind and wise, and it breaks your heart that Luke won't get to know his mother.

In the next days, Carol has been teaching you everything about babies. Teaching you how to look after him. The baths, how to prepare the baby bottle, how to deal with fevers, and stuff like that. You make a hell lot of questions, eager to know every single thing you can.

Your days revolve around Luke, what is good because you don't have time to think about Daryl and the possibility of him not wanting anything with you. The possibility that those warm nights in his arms are over.

Carol helps you get into a good schedule with the baby. You take turns waking up when he starts crying at night, but despite him growing used to Carol, she takes longer to rock him to sleep again. Luke feels better around you, she says. And honestly, you don't mind one bit. Carol assures you the cryings will get worse. Newborn babies sleep a lot, and with time, he'll need less sleep and that's when things will get hectic. But you're ok with it. You're mesmerized by him, so tiny, so innocent. A beacon of light in such a dark world. It's like a miracle to have a baby here, in an Earth where now the dead can walk again.

As the days pass by, you notice that you easily learn your way with Luke. Carol calls it mother instinct, but you never thought you had it in you... You never really thought about kids, but now... Maybe you could have one...

This thought reminds you of Daryl. Having a baby means you'll have to be very intimate with someone. And you can't imagine being intimate with anyone who isn't Daryl. Sighing, you look through the window of Luke's bedroom. It used to be Daryl's, but since he's sleeping in yours, Carol thought it would be ok to change things. So all of his stuff were reallocated to give Luke his space. Even though he doesn't need much now, being so little.

You haven't told Daryl about it yet. Your talks are always brief, just enough for you to know he's alright and for him to know you're alright as well.

Today, another sweet and slow morning, you're at the couch, a sleepy Luke in your arms. Carol is doing the dishes and getting some stuff ready for lunch. The kids will be coming, so she has something special planned. You'll help her in a few moments when Luke is asleep enough so you can leave him in his crib upstairs.

“I'm going to make cookies for the afternoon. What do you think?” She asks from the kitchen in a low voice.

“The kids will love it.” You say, turning your head to look at her. “When are you going to tell me your secret ingredient?”

“Never, obviously.” She answers and you giggle. “You would have to–” Her voice fades suddenly, and you listen as she puts something down. “Honey, I think they're back.”

“What?” Your heart skips a beat. “Are you sure?”

“Let me check.” She says and walks out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Well, not alone. Looking down at Luke, you smile when he moves his hand, grabbing something in his sleep. He's so oblivious to the war happening in your heart now. In your brain. This is it. He's back one day earlier than planned, but even though you knew the time was coming, you couldn't prepare yourself for it. Breathing deeply, you caress Luke's forehead, very lightly as if he's a fragile little thing. His mouth moves a little as if he's trying to speak and you giggle.

“What are you dreaming about, little one?” You ask him, wondering if babies can even dream. Maybe Denise knows, you'll ask her later.

“(Y/N).” His voice startles you, and you immediately look up from Luke, meeting Daryl's blue eyes as he stands by the door.

“D.” Smiling you quickly scan through his body, relieved not to find any sign of injury. “You're back.”

“Aye.” He mumbles. “Ya always have a kid with ya when I come back” He adds, stepping closer to the cough and giving the baby a look. “Who's this?”

“This is Luke. Melanie's baby, she... She couldn't make it.” The happiness fades a little, and Daryl seems a little sad as well.

“Was it her heart?”

“Yeah. It just stopped.” Sighing, you keep your eyes on Daryl. His face softens a little. “She told me once you know... That she'd rather die bringing her child to the world than in any other way but I never thought it would actually happen.”

“Who's gonna take care of him now?”

“I'm the designated mother.” You mumble, smiling.

Daryl looks up from the kid, eyes meeting yours. “By who?” You see a hint of anger in his eyes and you know why. He thinks someone pushed into it, and Daryl hates when people push you into things. Since the very beginning. He did have a fight with Rick when he first showed up here, wanting you to speak about your past. Now it's just a little bit worse. Daryl is very protective, and you can't help but smile to know this hasn't changed. Not yet.

“By him.” Tilting your head to the kid, you giggle when Daryl's face changes, softening again. “Kid likes me, what can I do?”

“Huh.”

“Wanna hold him?”

“Lemme shower. ‘M covered in mud and I don't wanna to give ya or the baby an infection or anythin’.” He says, already moving upstairs.

“Alright.” Settling down again, you bounce Luke a little, but by the looks of it, he's in deep sleep already. “What happens now, little one? Can you please tell me?” In a low voice, you ask him. If only anyone could answer that...

“Where's Daryl?” Carol asks as she comes inside, closing the door.

“Showering.”

“Let me put him in his crib.” She comes to the couch, and you carefully lies Luke in her arms. “You two need to talk.”

“Yeah.” You mutter, watching as she moves upstairs.

You don't want to talk to Daryl. Maybe you shouldn't have spoken to him about your feelings. What if it's too early? Things were perfect before and you don't think you can take it if he wants to... End things? Change things? “Shit.” Quickly, you get up, leaving the house. Running away is not your thing. Not when it comes to Daryl. The only running there is, is when you run into his arms. But now, you just can't. And you don't know where to go. So you just start walking downstreet, trying not to think too much. There isn't anywhere to hide here. If Daryl wants to find you, he will.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and after the usual terror, you recognize Maggie's voice, turning on your heels to look at her. “Daryl's back. Go see him.”

“I-I know.” Stuttering, you look at the street, making sure Daryl isn't anywhere he can see you before you make your way over her. “I just...”

“I thought you two were ok. Before he left I swear to God I thought you'd kiss him.” She climbs down the few steps of the porch, but you gesture for her to go back inside.

“We are.” Maggie has become a close friend. And if you don't talk about this things with someone, nobody will be able to help. “Uhm... I...”

“C'mon in.” She opens the door and steps aside. “Glenn isn't here so don't worry.”

“Ok.” Sighing, you step in, moving to the couch and taking a seat.

“Now...” Maggie comes and sits beside you, a leg folded under herself. “...why aren't you in Daryl's arms right now?”

It's not a secret anymore, Daryl and you. It eventually got out of the house, you don't really know how. “Because I... Goddamn it! I told him I wanted us to be a couple. Right before he left so he could think about it and now I'm terrified of what he'll say and I'm running from him.” You speak fast, hands covering your face. “I freaking love him.”

That's it. The words just came out. You freeze, breathing fast, the weight of the acknowledgment making a few tears roll down. You lie back on the couch, eyes on the ceiling.

“So... Do you want me to act surprised?”

“I want him to love me too.” It comes out as a whisper because this can't be heard by anyone. Not even by Maggie. But that already happened.

“Daryl allowed you to touch him. In public. And he touched you. Again, in public.” Maggie touches your leg, shaking it a little to get your attention, only stopping when you sit up again. “If he didn't love you back, that wouldn't happen.”

“Daryl... May like me. He's very protective and I love that since... Well, since all that shit happened but... Maybe this is it.”

“I don't think so. Daryl always makes sure everyone is safe, but with you it's different.”

Sighing, you wonder if you should believe that. Maybe, if you keep your hopes low, you won't get hurt.

No. You'll get hurt anyways. “I think I should go...”

“Yeah, he'll come here looking for you.”

“Maybe...” Pushing yourself back at your feet, you take a deep breath. “I'll... Take a walk.”

“You know he'll find you, right?” She says, following you to the front door.

“I know... Thanks, Maggie.” Smiling at her, you walk away, always careful in the steps before heading to the garden on the West side of the city.

There are some people here, not much though, but you still keep a distance. By the wall, there's a small square, if you can call it that, with some benches and threes. The kids come to play here some days, but it's not their favorite place. Taking a sit, strategically by a three so it'll hide you, you cross your legs. The wind makes you shiver since the thought of bringing a coat didn't even cross your mind. But it's beautiful here, and lonely. Few people come here, and you rather be alone. At least now, to think.

“Never thought ya would run from me.” His voice makes your heart skip a bit, and you do feel a little guilty. You're not sure why though. Silently, you watch as he comes to stand before you.

“I'm not...” You're were running away. No reason to try to dissimulate. “I just needed some time. Thought you would need some too, so...”

“Had plenty of time out there.” Raising your head to look at him, you can't shake the feeling he always brings you. Safety, warmth, home...

“Yeah... But you don't have to... I mean, what I said before, you don't have to...”

“We need ta’ talk. But not here, c'mon.” He reaches out his hand and you take it, pulling yourself up. “Ya need me ta’ carry ya?”

“No, I can walk.” If he's about to end things, the best you can do it put some distance already.

You walk at the fastest pace you can, eager to just end this. To know what happens now and work from there.

The moment you get to the house, Carol leaves, telling you Luke is asleep and he won't be up for a few hours.

So you go back to the couch, sitting down and bracing yourself, preparing for the worst. Daryl sits beside you but doesn't say anything. Bouncing your leg, you curse yourself for what you did. You know Daryl isn't the one to talk about his feelings, and you don't want to push him to.

“I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have–”

“Ya wanna be with me. Why?” He bursts out, and you look at him. Daryl has his elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor.

“Because I–” Are you really gonna say it? Can you tell him that? Isn't it too soon? Or too late? “I really, really like you... More than a friend or a protector.”

“Ya shouldn't. ‘M way older than ya and yer–”

“Daryl, it's not up to you to decide what I should or shouldn't do. Or feel.” Cutting him short, you turn your body towards him, touching his arm, relieved when he finally looks up into your eyes. “I know you think very low of yourself. I'm well aware of the age thing, but I don't care. What I need to know is how you feel about me.” Making a pause, you take a deep breath. This isn't easy, but you have to talk. To somehow make it easier for him, if that's even possible. “It's alright if you don't. I-I know you don't like talking about this, but I just need to know if... If there's anything else... If you feel this way about me too...”

“I like ya, (Y/N).” He says in a very low voice, you can barely hear it. “And ya shouldn't have feelings for me.”

“Daryl...”

“Nah, lemme talk.” He cuts you off, faking an angry tone. Raising an eyebrow, you nod. “Ya shouldn't. Yer... Young an’ pretty an’ I can't ruin ya. Ya deserve someone better than me.”

“I don't want anyone else, Dixon.” It breaks your heart when he talks like that. You wish he could see himself through your eyes. Who he really is, not this messed up an image he has of himself. “And you won't ruin me. I don't even know what you meant by that, but that's not true, Daryl, I... If you want this... If you want me, you won't ruin me. You'll make me very, very happy.”

You're happy you managed to say all that, despite the many pauses and all the stuttering. There is much more to say, but the time will come. For now, everything you need is to know how he feels.

“I think yer making a mistake, but... I've been thinkin’ and... I don't like bein’ away from ya.”

A smile starts making its way to your lips. “Does it mean that...”

“Yeah, I guess it means that.” He affirms, still not wanting to say the words.

“...Are we going to be a couple?” You have to be sure before celebrating it.

“Yeah.”

“Like... boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Ya need me ta’ drawn it to ya?” He bursts out, an annoyed expression on his face.

Giggling, you raise an eyebrow. You love this side of Daryl and you hope to see more of it. “Sassy Daryl is one of my favorite Daryls.” You say, moving to his lap, straddling his hip. A second later you realize what you did, your cheeks burning. Daryl is red too, and he's not sure what to do with his hands, but you soon feel them on your waist. “So... Oh, I don't know if you noticed but your room was claimed by a newborn child.”

“Yeah, I noticed the crib.”

“So you're now permanently stuck in my bedroom. Hope it's not a problem.” Smiling, you wrap your arms around his neck. You then realize you haven't kissed him yet. And, hell, you want to.

“Not at all.”

“Can I kiss you?” It comes out suddenly, too fast, and you look down, wondering if he can listen to your heart since it's beating insanely fast.

“Ya want to?” He almost stutters, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah...” Nodding, you move closer, eyes closing, and your skin burning in anticipation.

You jump to hear the front door opening, head immediately turning to find Carol. Her eyes go wide at the sight of you and Daryl like this...

“I–”

“Carol, I need you to go away. Like right now.” You tell her, urgency in your voice. You don't want the moment to pass, and you just need to kiss him. Right now. It's like a matter of life and death. “Please.” You decide to add.

“Alright, alright.” Raising her hands, she quickly goes upstairs, and you settle down again, hoping Daryl hasn't changed his mind.

“Ok... Can I–”

You feel his lips on yours before you can finish, and you don't mind at all. Pushing yourself closer to him, you deepen the kiss, completely inebriated by him. The pace is slow at first, as if you're getting to know each other, feeling each other, but then it changes, faster, full of need. You get the sensation he doesn't believe this is happening, by the way his arms hold you as if you would disappear. You won't. This is where you want to be, right here, with him.

×

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd @browneyes528 @btsiguess-kpop @a-dlv @bibibeauelle

[ddarker-dreams]

hiraeth (i).

hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

yandere! don! giorno giovanna x f! reader. collab with @dear-yandere​. read part two here! do not re-upload or use our writing without permission. › warnings: isolation, detailed panic attack, emotional manipulation, and implied sexual relation. › word count: 10k. › art credit: spearthymint.

“You can come out, you know.” 

Giorno’s words are meant as a small but necessary push, but at the moment, his encouragements just come off as chiding and impatient. You know that’s far from the case, as he’s always been tolerant of your missteps and reluctancy when it came to anything involving him, but your nerves on edge right now. This goes against all you’ve been forced to learn, all you’ve been forced to adapt to during your time on this island. Time has always been at a standstill behind these walls, with countless doors you cannot cross and an expanse of ocean that reveals to you nothing for countless miles. In such a situation, most people wouldn’t be standing before their closets in dismay, scolding themselves over what outfit to wear for a date with their captor; but, you supposed you aren’t most people, considering the Don of Passione has taken such a liking to you as to keep you to himself. It’d become commonplace, and looking through the expansive closet almost felt normal, designer outfits tailored perfectly to your measurements, awaiting to be picked. Growing up in a country renowned for its exquisite tastes in fashions and its constant supply of talented designers, you’ve seen clothing like this in fashion magazines or in the windows of boutiques you could never hope to afford; but now, these pieces are entirely yours, free for your choosing whenever you so desire. Under different circumstances, you would’ve felt like a successful model, one that would make your younger self proud with your fine jewelry and expensive makeup.

What would she think of you now?

Giorno has reassured you that you’re welcome to help yourself to everything here, that it’s all meant for you anyways, that your happiness is his. You know he meant it as something romantic, more akin to saying that your happiness would make him happy by extension, but considering your unwillingness to be here in the first place, his sentiment made it seem as if your happiness is something to be taken, something you cannot control. His actions are no different, despite his solemn assertions that keeping you here is in your best interest.

You don’t bring that up to him. It’d… it’d break his heart, considering how far your ‘relationship’ has come. You used to hate him with every fibre of your being. Now, you feel almost giddy to have a rare moment alone with him. A morning date by the beach, something romantic, something personal. This is a first for you both. There was a time you’d dread being alone with him; that time is long past, it seems.

You’re not sure if it’s for the better.

Running your hands over extravagant fabric, you wonder if the day will come when you feel comfortable enough to try these outfits on. It’s a world that goes beyond your limited understanding, too luxurious to feel real. Out of everything in this walk-in closet, you’re drawn to the plain outfits, clothing entirely unbefitting a woman who lives on an island villa with her influential husband. Turtlenecks and long skirts or pants used to be your first choices whenever he’d visit, wanting nothing more than to keep his eyes off of you. You thought it’d make him want you less, view you as undesirable of his money and affections, but Giorno isn’t so easily swayed. He does love you, you can tell that much from everything he does, from the way he touches you like fine art to the way he puts your happiness and safety first, even at the expense of your freedom. Even still, the inclusion of such plain outfits in your wardrobe shows Giorno’s thoughtfulness towards you, considering the little things. While he wants nothing more than to shower you in expensive gifts, your comfort comes first. He loves that about you, how you can find happiness and comfort in the simpler things life has to offer.

But… will he be disappointed at your lackluster selection? You almost chuckle at your own worries, at how natural it all feels and at how foreign it feels at the same time. Choosing a proper outfit is what someone on their first date would be concerned about, not someone stolen from their life and thrown into lavish isolation. He hasn’t gotten under your skin that far, has he? And, do you even mind anymore? 

Shaking your head at the thought, you chastise yourself. Now’s not the time to be thinking about such hurtful things, you’ve had plenty of time to wallow in self pity. Too much time, when he isn’t here. It’s gotten to the point where his presence is enough to quell your lonely thoughts — you no longer dread being at his side. Not nearly as much as before, anyways. Because now, you want to move forward. One step at a time. It’s the only way to live right now, the only option he’s presented to you.

“Is everything alright, amore mio? Do you need help?” He calls out past the foyer, breaking you from your self-deprecating and conflicting thoughts. 

“Y-yeah, just a moment.” You clear your throat, heart racing at his concern. Even the way he speaks… the worry in his voice that shows even in the smallest of actions, you can tell he’s trying. He’s been trying to make your stay a comfortable one, even if it’s always been against your will. What frustrated you at the start now elicits fluttering within your heart, his care borderline touching. Every detail of your daily life has been considered, intended to make you feel at home, going so far as to be mindful of the way he conducts himself around you. He must think you haven’t noticed, but isolation has taught you to be observant. Observant of where he keeps the keys, observant of the pattern in which he visits, observant of what information he’ll let slip when you lower his guard just enough. These thoughts used to plague you day in and day out; they’d become your only hobby, at some point. And yet, beneath it all, he’d found a crack to seep through, someplace just wide enough to make himself at home.

His voice no longer brings dread.

“Sorry, I’m fine. I... I just don’t know.” You continue, aware of how much time has already passed. You’re still hidden in the closet of your chambers, so your voice is muffled, and he hums in response, perplexed by how long you’ve been taking to doll yourself up. You’ve never taken this long before, not with him; you’ve always been content to throw on whatever catches your fancy, even if it hardly matches, and leave your hair undone and your face natural. He never once minded, but the difference in your behavior is stark. It’d be concerning if you weren’t so easy to read, so he settles against the banister with a small, knowing smile. 

You choke back the spit that had been pooling under your tongue in your daze. You’re keeping him waiting. You’re keeping the Don of Passione waiting. You used to relish in the thought, but today, it feels wrong. He’s waiting for you as patiently as he always does, but today is something special, something special to you for once. Today is the first time you’ll go outside, past the doors of this villa. Today is the first time you’ll go outside with him, willingly. Today is the first time you’ll enjoy it. 

You clear your throat, pushing those shameful thoughts asid. The fabric of your tailored sundress feels foreign against your skin, featherlight and airy. The silken skirts feel too short all of a sudden, now that you were one step closer to being under his gaze. He’ll…. he’ll like it, right? It’s a silly question, considering he likes whatever you wear, but you can’t help but dwell on it. You almost want to cancel this date and throw up instead, the butterflies in your stomach feeling more like a swarm than a gentle fluttering. You lean against the closet door and ashamedly sigh. “Giorno, this… this feels embarrassing.”

He always knows exactly what to say to make your heart flutter, so his answer is quick.“Amore, I’m sure you look lovely. You always do.”

His tone is lighthearted, amused even. To anyone overhearing, they might think this is a conversation between infatuated lovers. A husband assuring his wife she’s just as beautiful as the day he met her, as lovers would. No one would be none the wiser. No one would know that this is the first time you’ve been past your chambers in weeks. No one would know that he’s kept you here for months. No one would know.

The ring on your finger feels heavier than usual.

Moving on is such a tricky thing. A minefield you’re forced to navigate, stumbling and failing at times. You wish it was as simple as offering forgiveness, but both of you know it isn’t that easy. He upended your life entirely, turned it on its head, and no amount of remorse or forgiveness can bring back what was lost. All those months spent away from your family, your friends, your job. And yet, today, he’s extending a loving hand to you, giving a second chance. A chance at true happiness, or the closest thing to it in this situation. After all the suffering you’ve endured, it’s only natural to seek some form of solace. You’ve denied yourself long enough, having shed enough tears to last a lifetime within the span of a few months. Forgiveness won’t return what you’ve lost, it won’t excuse what’s been taken. Forgiveness won’t change anything, but neither will hatred.

Now, more than ever, you want to feel normal again. You don’t think of it as giving up, at least… you try not to. Instead, you like to think you’re making good out of a dire situation. Anyone would do the same, right?

You step past the threshold, back into what’s rightfully yours.

“Ah, amore. There you are.” He looks up from his little reverie, a soft smile gracing his features upon spotting you. He chuckles and pushes himself from the railing, setting himself straight to properly greet you. “I was right. You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.” He says, laying a gentle kiss atop your hand.

You clear your throat awkwardly, trying to draw attention away from your blush. “You’re too much, Giorno. You saw me just moments ago.” You’re grateful there’s no stutter this time. You’ve grown used to his suave mannerisms, kissing your hand being one of the most common, but it still sends your heart into a slamming against your chest. He has a way with charming you, despite everything he’s done. “And surely, you say that to every woman you meet.” Your eyes flicker away from his, a brief moment of jealousy upon realizing how many beautiful and intelligent women he must meet during trips abroad. It’s a silly presumption, really, considering he’s only kept you on an isolated island, to your knowledge, but the brief bout of jealousy refuses to subside.

“My words hold no such lie. You are lovelier than the last time I saw you, as you always are. Your beauty knows no bounds, amore mio.” He cants his head to the side, his smile knowing, and tilts your chin upward. You’re forced to look into his eyes as he says such sweet words as easily as breathing. “And, I assure you, I only have eyes for you. There is no one I love more in this world, not even myself.” His lips travel downward to place a gentle kiss against the ring on your finger. “And there is no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, tesoro mio.”

The ring doesn’t feel nearly as heavy.

Gently, he places your hand back at your side and straightens himself. You give him a once over, secretly admiring his ethereal beauty. He’s well-dressed as usual, one of his many opulent and tailored suits hugging his figure in all the right places. The designs are immaculate and fine, grey pinstripes on darker grey fabric creating an elegant and put together look. It strikes you as odd to wear a suit for a beach date, but you don’t dwell on it. He’s a busy man, no doubt having had to clear his schedule just for a quick morning date with you. He’ll leave soon after, you’re sure, and for better or worse, the thought of being without him for another day hurts. You’re left without him for days at a time, and while you don’t always prefer his company, it’s been… comforting as of late. Nights spent by his side have become the norm, your head nestled against his chest as you sleep off the fine wine in your system. Pillow talk is something you never thought you’d indulge in with someone like him, but you’ve looked forward to it these past few weeks. At first, it was another tactic to gain information on him, but somewhere along the line, you began taking solace in his company. It’s all you have. He is all you have.

“That dress looks wonderful on you.” He compliments, enjoying the way the sunflower patterns on your sundress brighten your already-resplendent features. He extends his arm to you, which you accept without hesitation. The skin of your bare arms rubs against the coarse fabric of his suit, sending shivers down your spine. You must look like an odd couple, one dressed for an outing in the sun and the other dressed from a rendezvous at night; a reminder of how different your worlds truly are.

Once he feels you’re settled, Giorno begins leading you down long, empty halls decorated to the brim with tasteful vases, flowers, and paintings. You pay them no mind, their placements and features already burned into your mind from countless days wandering these very corridors, wishing for freedom. And now, what you’ve earned is starting to turn into a tangible reality. You’ve walked this path numerous times, having to stop when you reached a set of locked doors. Doors that lead to the outside world, doors you’ll finally walk past, hand in hand with someone you’re not quite sure you love just yet.

The pep in your step comes to a halt when you’re met with the familiar sight, the roadblock imposing. You almost forget that you’ll be walking past those double doors in a few moments, your body so accustomed to standing in this very spot and looking on in yearning. The shifting of fabric pulls you to reality as Giorno reaches into his suit, procuring a keycard and wordlessly unlocks the door. It’s a silent series of actions, the air growing heavy with tension. From how you tense, you assume he knows what you’re thinking, but doesn’t want to comment on it. If it’s for your sake or his own, you’re unsure.

Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you. The sunlight is blinding, your eyes squinting and arm rising to lessen the impact. It feels prickly against your skin now that there are no windows to block the bright rays. While your eyes adjust to the unfiltered light, Giorno patiently holds the door open. This has been the desire of your heart, coveting the freedom to experience nature as you used to. 

You look over at him, for once grateful for how well he can read you. Even if you had the words to ask what’s on your mind, your tongue would be unable to form them. He offers a slight nod, encouraging you to take your time as you anchor yourself, a bitter tug at his heart that he’s put you in a situation where you need to ask in the first place. Inhaling silently, you gingerly step out, the ground growing softer. When nothing happens, you take another step, as careful as the first. Testing. Praying that this is indeed real life and not a cruel dream that serves to taunt you. How often you’ve dreamt of leaving this place, and it’s become a reality within a few days… even if the path does not lead to your freedom.

Sensing your inner dilemma, he takes a hold of your hand. The touch is light, not meant to constrict you for his own purposes. Should you feel the need to pull away, as if you had been touched with fire, you’d be allowed to. Months ago, you would’ve done just that. To spite him, and for your own satisfaction. 

You intertwine your fingers with his. 

When your eyes flicker back to him, you notice how his soft lips part as if in shock. Did you manage to surprise him for once? He must have never once thought the day would come where you’d willingly touch him rather than flinch away from his touch. But any cracks in his composure are immediately melded, Giorno giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Without thinking, you return his smile, your sincerity as clear as day. 

“If this is too much for you, then—” 

He cuts himself off when you shake your head firmly, lips set in a straight line. You’d never forgive yourself if you backed down now, not after all the effort it took to get here. Now it’s your turn to gently squeeze his hand back, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “Let’s continue, okay?” 

Giorno doesn’t press the matter further. You allow him to lead you to a spot he mentioned earlier, though you can already guess where he’s going. The hypnotizing sound of the ocean draws you in, growing louder with each passing step. The loud calls of seagulls fill your ears along with the crashing of the waves against the shore, a sight you’ve missed from your time in Naples. You’ve seen it from locked windows, but it’s not the same. The gentle sea breeze, the tantalizing draw of an ocean without horizon; it’s a beautiful sight, even more so in person. 

Childlike glee fills you, nostalgia of trips to Italy’s many beaches flooding back. It’s different compared to then, no families enjoying their time together under umbrellas or vendors selling their goods. It’s far more private, as if the two of you are the only people left in this world. In your sheltered world, that sentiment holds some truth. Instead of filling you with the loneliness it normally does, you feel connected to him. Closer than you ever allowed yourself to be before, as if this small part of the world was carved out specifically to let you two meet. To let you two fall in love, a handcrafted Eden sealed off from the rest of society. 

Giorno watches, admires the way the sunlight hits your skin for the first time in weeks. You’re beautiful, the wind tousling your perfectly-styled hair, but you don’t seem to care. Your eyes are bright. You’re glowing, the same way you glow when you’re truly happy, the same light he’s grown addicted to over these past few weeks. You’re happier these days, more often at least. He’d begun doubting himself at some point, wondering if your sudden change of heart was a ploy to gain his trust or lower his guard. Countless nights spent watching you sleep after a few hours of intimate touches, wondering if what you feel for him is true. He knows he deserves none of it, not in any sense of the word, but the thought of betrayal hurts far worse than never receiving your love in kind.

But watching you now, he can’t seem to let those thoughts fester. Your happiness is genuine.

While you soak in the carefree atmosphere, Giorno bends down and picks a seashell from the sand, an idea forming. Imbuing the fossil with life, the texture changes to a softer one, bright yellow petals forming into a hibiscus flower. Gently, he nudges you toward him and places it behind your ear, admiring how it compliments your beauty. You blush, but don’t shy away as you normally would. Your eyes are still bright, curious and gleeful, and your lips upturn into a smile that rivals the ones you’d wear before he’d stolen you away.

“You should make one for yourself.” You speak, free of worries and with a hint of amusement at the thought of a great mafia don wearing flowers at your behest. “So we match.” You add teasingly, knowing full well how much of a sappy romantic he is. Matching with you should be sending his heart fluttering right now. Or at least, you hope you can ever have that effect on him.

Giorno chuckles at your suggestion. “I wouldn’t hold a candle to how you look.” 

Your face flushes further at how easily compliments flow from him, always from a true place in his heart. Any and all attempts to catch him off guard end like this, redirecting to praising you in some way. Not one to accept defeat so easily, you absentmindedly place your hand against the newly formed flower, thumbing the petals. The fibers feel so real against your skin, as if this flower was pulled naturally from the earth itself. 

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you do this… what else can you make, exactly?” You inquire, tucking your hairs around the petals to keep the flower in place. Giorno has always been keen on giving you vague explanations of his ability, likely so it’d be easier for you to understand. From what you can tell, his ability — a stand, as he’s briefly explained — is one of beauty, able to create life at the slightest touch. Gold Experience brought out curiosity from within you, one of the few reasons you started talking to him again. He’d turn random items into different creatures, earning your attention when you’d ignore him. Your favorites have always been things you can’t naturally find on this island, not without importing it from the mainland. Things like hibiscus, such as the one in your hair, or animals such as fireflies. Things you miss.

Before he can answer, you propose an idea. “Why not make like, a bunch of dolphins? Or great white sharks? Ooh, maybe even a blue whale?” Your voice rises near the end, like a child asking their parent for a new toy, and you collect your chin in your hand for further contemplation.“What else, what else...” 

His hand covers his mouth, hiding how his smile widens at your pondering. Giorno doesn’t stop you from thinking out loud, letting you ramble to your heart’s content. He’s never seen you this talkative before, the sight alone is too cute. Any thoughts about his work scheduled later that day are replaced solely and wholly with you. He’s never seen this side of you, yet, and he’s careful to take note of and admire your little mannerisms. How you talk with your hands excitedly, how your eyes light up and your smile reaches your eyes. It’s the first time he’s noticed you have a dimple, even, as he’s yet to see you truly smile. It dawns on him that there is a side of you he has yet to truly see. A side of you where you’re happy. But, does he deserve that sort of joy? Does he deserve you?

“What? Too much?” You smile and tilt your head innocently. “How about something smaller, more manageable? A... frog, maybe?”

He has his answer; he doesn’t deserve you at all. You’re too precious, too innocent. “A frog? Really?” He sputters out an indignant laugh. “I could make something much more interesting, you know. What about a butterfly? Some birds? Or...” He trails off, noticing the pleading gleam in your eyes.

“Please?” You whine. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen one. They’re so cute…”

“Frogs aren’t even native to this island, amore. Where would he go?”

“He can be my pet.” Your answer is so quick it nearly makes him burst out in laughter. You… you do have a point, actually. It’s not like you have any other company besides him, the rare occasions he does get to visit.

“Fine, but I’ll make it later. Something tells me you’ll be too preoccupied with him if I do so now…”, he laughs at the thought of you gushing at a small animal rather than him. It’s to be expected at this point, but he wants to be a bit selfish today. Just for a few hours.

You puff your cheeks out but eventually relent. The topic of a pet has been on your mind before, now seeming like the best time to approach it. You’ll hold him to his promise later, choosing to occupy yourself with possible names for your promised companion. It’ll remedy the loneliness you feel when he’s not around.

As he’s grown skilled in doing, Giorno redirects you. “Do you enjoy the ocean, amore?” 

Humming lowly at the question, you walk closer to the inviting waves, Giorno following close behind. “I mostly like the atmosphere. It’s fun in the moment when you’re swimming, but then I have to spend hours getting all the sand out of my hair.” You say, and he takes note that you’re quite rambunctious when it comes to beaches. Most people wouldn’t get that much sand in their hair, not unless they were practically rolling in the shallow. It’s a cute thought, but he doubts he’ll get to see you do so anytime soon. Maybe… on the next date, but he can only hope. It’s a miracle you agreed to this one.

As you approach the ocean, the sand slows you down, your feet sinking into it. When the water draws too near, you kick your flip flops off, embracing the grainy sensation under your feet. The sand is calming, a natural exfoliant against the soles of your feet and between your toes, sticking to your skin like sweat. It’s been so long since you’ve gone the length to take care of your hygiene past the basics, and coupled with the relaxing sound of waves hitting rocks, it’s calming. You feel at peace, finally. Your eyes close — content, the moment serene, as if you’re in a little paradise. You realize now is an opportunity to learn more about him, with his guard being lowered. 

Turning your head around, you mirror his earlier question. “What about you, GioGio?” 

He blinks at the unexpected usage of his nickname. You must’ve overheard Fugo calling him it sometime, but even that couldn’t compare. The way it sounded in your voice was intoxicating, compelling him to tell you more if only to hear you say his name again. He hopes you’ll say it again, his pulse quickening at the domestic implications. He gives some thought to your question before answering, pushing away the adoring thoughts. 

“To be honest, I never visited the beach often.” 

Even with all his mysteries, you were expecting an answer like that. In the time you’ve known Giorno, he doesn’t take time to relax. His mind is full of burdens and expectations, jobs that need to be done and the best way to complete them. From what you gather, it’s paid off. You overheard him talking to one of his men before, someone you noticed to be close to him. The nickname “GioGio” rolling off the man’s tongue felt almost laughable in the moment had it not been coupled with reserved praise for how far Giorno had extended Passione’s reach in only six months. Still, you don’t know if pity is what you feel, but it’s an emotion close to that. The only time he’s taken for himself is when he’s with you, and even then, you’ve always given him a hard time. It must be a difficult path, but it’s one he chose nonetheless. 

“We’ll have to change that then,” you assert with a smile, appreciating how the breeze kisses your skin. “I’d… I’d like to come out here with you more often.” 

The confidence you were hoping would accompany the words wavers, unsure if you’re pushing your luck. It’s a miracle that Giorno saw it fitting to bestow this freedom upon you even a single time — asking for more might be too greedy. But your fears melt away when his turquoise eyes soften, not interpreting your plea in a negative light. It could have been your imagination, but you sense a hint of guilt in them. Perhaps, regretting how often he has to leave you alone to tend to his own matters.

“I’d love nothing more than to do that, if you’ll have me.” He slightly bows his head, as if in meek shame.

You eagerly nod your head, accepting the extended invitation. Anything is better than being cooped up for ages, like you’ve grown used to, and if you’re being honest, his company isn’t nearly as bad as you once thought it to be. In fact, it’s almost calming. You used to fear how much power and influence he holds, as if the world itself is in grasp; but now, you seek it out. His presence no longer incites paralyzing, but rather feels like a warm embrace, beneath the composed mask he dons. And even then, you’d hate to give up this newfound freedom, however minute it may be. The ocean feels divine against your warming skin, Italian summers renowned for their heat. Venturing further into the water, now up to your ankles, you look around for any pretty seashells. Giorno lets you do as you please, watching over you with a content air from the shore. 

Crouching down, your hand runs across the sand to continue your search. You hum to yourself as the cold waters splash against your ankles and up your thighs, the sensation welcoming in this heat. The waters are bright and crystal clear, a benefit to your search as you gingerly pick up the shells that stand out to you the most. Maybe you’ll ask him to make one of these into your future pet, the thought an exciting one. The best seashell will be the one you hand to him. Or maybe, you can convince him to turn all of these into frogs… 

You look over your shoulder to find him standing just nigh of the incoming waves. It’s a sweet sight, how he draws as close as his outfit allows him, just shy of the waves touching his expensive loafers. He really is an uptight fashionista at heart. At that, a mischievous idea pops into your mind, a plan rapidly forming to enact your vision. Acting as you normally do, your hands continue to brush against the ground, and you let a dramatic gasp leave your lips. Feigning hurt, you draw your hand close to your chest, a muffled whine pushing past your lips almost unnaturally. Your acting has never been the best, but you hope it’ll do...

Giorno’s eyebrows furrow at the pained noise, and he steps forward without care for his outfit. He’s by your side in record time, bending down and reaching to inspect your supposedly injured hand. “[First], are you—” 

You can’t help but snicker, your free hand brushing against the top of the water and splashing it towards him. It takes a moment for him to process the unfolding events, suit dripping from your playful assault. More giggles leave your lips at his miffed expression, having never seen him look like this before. Not towards you, at least. It feels far more human than how he normally acts around you, that stoic and knowing mask gone for once. You’ve caught him off guard — a feat in and of itself. Not even his enemies can accomplish that much. Then again, you have the advantage of never being on his bad side even when you do things like this.

Giorno lets out a long sigh, muttering quietly to himself as the uncomfortable sensation of salty seawater settles into his otherwise expensive suit. “Sei fortunato sei così carina.” (You’re lucky you’re so cute).

“Hm? What was that, GioGio?” You inquire, too preoccupied with snickering at his expense to notice his words. He can’t allow himself to be upset with you, not when he gets to hear the angelic sound of your laughter. When was the last time he heard it…? It must’ve been a time before, a time long past. Maybe when you were interacting with your friends, or looking at something entertaining on your phone. Not even his little flirtations and tricks using Gold Experience have elicited such a carefree response. If this suit going to the dry cleaners is the cost to pay for hearing it again, it will always be worth it. 

He shakes his head, freeing himself from the heavy burden these thoughts bring. “Nothing. You’re not hurt, are you?” He already knows the answer, at this point, but it’s become a habit to ensure your utmost safety and happiness.

You don’t respond immediately, instead looking over his shoulder in a dreamlike stupor. Giorno is about to repeat his question before it clicks what it is you’re looking at with raw wonder. In the heat of the moment, believing you were in danger, Gold Experience Requiem had been summoned subconsciously. The Stand represents himself, his care for you that seeps into every aspect of who he is. It makes sense why he’d summon his Stand, even if he didn’t realize it in the moment. 

That’s not the problem here though. You’re staring at the exact spot Gold Experience is, it’s no coincidence. 

You look at the Stand with wide eyes, lips parting as you stand up to inspect him closer. He’d be a horrifying sight if Giorno hadn’t told you about his power beforehand. So this is... the personification of his soul? He’s never summoned his Stand in its entirety around you, only using its ability to imbue things with life. The realization that you can actually see it makes him purse his lips, uncertain of what to make of the new information. That means that you’re...

“W-woah,” you stutter out, reaching out towards the floating creature in pure awe. Your hand goes through it, like fog in the air. The Stand looks at you, perplexed despite its lack of proper facial features or musculature, its eyes glued to you as if in similar awe. “What is this, Giorno?” 

Giorno clears his throat, suppressing his worries as to what this could potentially mean for later. A question he’ll have to pose to Jotaro or Polnareff, he’s sure…. 

“It’s what allows me to create life.” He explains carefully, still unsure about how much information to reveal. Gold Experience looks down at you with similar curiosity, inspecting your person thoroughly. You’d be lying if you said it isn’t intimidating, eyes wide blown and seemingly staring through your soul. For some reason, you feel like it wouldn’t dare harm you. 

It draws close to you, gathering some stray pebbles from the sea. Wordlessly, the lifeless rocks turn into an array of colorful flowers, a circular vine holding them together. The Stand places it atop your head almost gleefully, careful to not hurt a single hair on your head. You hear Giorno draw a sharp breath at the display, perhaps not realizing his stand was capable of acting on its own like this. Gold Experience’s gesture is meant to be an act of kindness, a display of love. There’s no denying the pure intentions, even despite how terrifying he looks. Now knowing you’re capable of seeing it, the Stand looks at you almost expectantly, like a child waiting to be praised. Still beside yourself at the unfolding events, you gather yourself enough to offer it a beaming smile and soft ‘thank you’. He seems content enough with your reaction, returning to its user. Its eyes never once leave you, looking at you as if you’re the center of the universe, before it disappears completely from sight.

“I think he likes you,” Giorno clears his throat and hums, calling his Stand back to him. It’s a pleasant display, if not a tad embarrassing. What takes priority now is answering the numerous questions this brings to the table. “Do you feel anything… out of the ordinary, [First]?” 

His inquiry feels out of place, like you’re missing a vital piece of the puzzle. He knows something you don’t. It’s not often he uses your first name either, preferring to praise you with affectionate nicknames. Assuming he must mean your hands, you hold them up for him to inspect, showing all sides are without injury. When his expression stays the same, you wonder if he meant something else. Any other possibilities escape you, so you make do with what little you know.

“Not really, no. I’m just hungry.” you answer in honesty, squirming under his unflinching gaze. Your answer feels out of place, hanging from the air like loose threads, unwoven from its source. Giorno takes a few more moments to consider you, looking for dishonesty and finding nothing but confusion. You swallow thickly at the tense atmosphere, hoping you didn’t mess up in some way. Anxiety captures your hammering heart, and you shrink under his piercing stare. Giorno, quickly sensing your concern, returns to his typical expression, a soft gaze with an equally soft smile, only ever reserved entirely for you. 

“Ah, of course. You haven’t had anything to eat today. Come, I have food prepared.” 

Grateful at the change in conversation, you rush over to his side, warm sea water sticking to your skin in droplets. You don’t know what he’s hiding from you, and at the moment, you don’t care to find out. Nothing could be a worse fate than being locked up again for a transgression you didn’t even mean to commit. As long as that’s not the case, it’ll be okay. Lower lip trembling, you subconsciously take a tight grip of his hand. He looks down at the desperate touch, seeing how your smaller hands fit perfectly into his. Sensing the nervous air in your actions, he gives your hand a light squeeze, calming your nerves ever so slightly. Smitten by your actions, how willingly you still choose to touch him, he lifts your hand up and places a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You’re relying on him. He’s not sure what spurred the sudden change, but he’s going to enjoy it. It’s a modest showing that soothes your distressed mind. 

He’s not upset with you. You won’t be left all alone again. You won’t have to go days without human contact, sobbing and pleading for anyone to save you, to talk to you, to notice you’re gone—

“[First]?”

You don’t notice the tears that sting your eyes until it’s too late. The force makes you choke on thin air, searching for breaths that won’t come. The walls of your lungs are constricting into itself, your heart hammering so hard against its rib cage that you fear it’ll break through the skin and bone. Giorno watches with wide eyes as you unravel in front of him, your hand shooting up to muffle your mouth, the other latching onto his chest like a desperate prayer, begging him to make it stop, to make the thoughts stop, to make your heart still for once. You try to call out for him, to call for help, but the words lodge in your throat like bile and vomit. You choke on each syllable.

The weight of the world is crushing atop your shoulders, its jaws closed around your heart. Something is wrong — this is wrong. Your fingers tighten against his chest, wanting to beat against it, to hurt him, to make him feel the pain you’ve felt. You’re so close. He’s let you get close to him, close to his walls — let you tear them down. Weeks ago, you would have rejoiced in this. Would’ve used his weakness against him, would’ve fought back. If you were stronger, if you just weren’t so weak, you would have been happier. You wouldn’t be in this situation, clinging to a man who took you from life, clinging to a man who makes you question your own sanity. Everything — he took everything from you, and he still can. No matter how slowly you forgive him, no matter how slowly you give into him, he will always have control over your life. There will always be a disparity, a power dynamic — you will always be weak. 

You will always be trapped here, always wondering if you’ve taken a wrong step. If you’ve angered or bothered him. If you’ll see your family again.

Will it always end like this? Whenever something goes wrong, something trivial, something most people wouldn’t dwell on for more than a few seconds… will this keep happening? Will you break down each time? Will you always be this fragile, like glass?

Will it always be like this?

“[F-First],” he nearly chokes, gripping your waist to keep you upright. His heart breaks at the pitiful sight of you, like the air is knocked from his lungs just watching you suffer. He doesn’t understand what caused this, and his stomach sinks at the realization that this must be the norm for you. An underlying fear that things will fall apart with the slightest misstep, an underlying paranoia that incites the bitter bite of anxiety — because of him. Is this how easy it was to break you? Have you always been this fragile? How… how many nights were spent buried against tear-ridden pillows, crying until you doze off and wake up to another day with him? The guilt is overwhelming, the thought of you curled in your bed, surrounded by material things and yet nothing at the same time.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore. Let me help you.”

For all the times he couldn’t before, he comforts you, holds you like a lost child, soothes you in a way only a monster can soothe its prey. And you let him, desperately clinging onto the validation that you haven’t messed up in some way.

His arms close around the small of your waist, holding your trembling form tightly, scared you’ll fall if he takes one wrong step, scared you’ll shatter if he doesn't hold you together. Your sobs are choked, muffled against his chest, but the time of silence lets you regain yourself, the ringing in your ears dying down only to be replaced by the gentle lull of the ocean you adore. Your head is resting against him, those atrocious and lonely thoughts dying down for the time being, lulled into a sense of dubious security. They will plague you again, as they always do, but for now… for now, you’re grateful. He’s the source of your pain, and yet, he’s become the only remedy. It’s only when you pull back, hesitantly, that he releases you, his hand cupping your face. The pads of his thumb wipe away your glistening tears, worry etched into his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur with a pathetic sniffle, eyes avoiding his own. “I didn’t mean to ruin our outing. I’m not sure what came over me… I just, the thought of—” 

He shushes your self deprecating tandem, lips ghosting over your forehead in a gentle, brief kiss, stalling there with momentary doubt that he of all people shouldn’t be comforting you. He’s always had the patience of a saint with you, now is no different. Even when you cursed and belittled him, throwing crashing objects at him, he remained unshaken. This unshakable composure is a part of who he is, and, as much as he hates watching you fall apart for his sake, he is meant to comfort you. To console you, to make this new life he’s given you something you’ll come to enjoy. Your mind has been full of thoughts, self-deprecating and hateful, no matter how close he gets to you. It’s to be expected….

“You’ll feel better once you eat.” He suggests, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

You’re grateful that he doesn’t press the sensitive subject, whether it be out of shame for his actions or pity for your current state. Slowly, he leads you to a shaded area surrounded by hand-crafted flora, set up the earlier in the morning by his own hands. On the ground is a blanket, a picnic basket set in the middle. He helps you sit down, and takes his place next to you. This serves as a welcome distraction from the embarrassing display earlier. 

Giorno opens the basket, pulling out sandwiches that look different than what you’ve had before. They’re put together with care, ingredients dribbling out over the edge. A rather simple selection compared to most of the gourmet food you have here. When asked about it once, Giorno told you that your food is prepared by fine chefs. The quality of the food you had on a daily basis confirmed the fact. This looks different, more intimate somehow. 

He picks up on how you eye it. “I’m not the best cook, but I wanted to try it. If it’s not to your tastes, I’ll have something else brought out.” 

Your fingers brush over his as you gratefully accept it, a quiet thank you leaving your lips. His tone can almost be described as sheepish, and you swear his face looks a tad flushed. Waiting to see your impression of his food, he gazes at you with expectant eyes, trying to play it cool. 

Biting into the sandwich, you’re met with the taste of tarte jelly and savory peanut butter intertwining on your tongue. In a few seconds, you finish it in its entirety, much to Giorno’s internal satisfaction. His shoulders relax at your acceptance, not realizing how much your opinion truly means to him. He had to take care of himself growing up, learning the basics of food preparation for that reason. Much of it had been forgotten now that it was no longer required from him. 

You can’t help but giggle at his serious expression, instantly earning his attention. To hear such a divine sound so many times on the same day, was God smiling down upon him? It’s the only plausible explanation at how well this outing has been going. It’s more than he ever allowed himself to hope for, more than he deserved. 

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he tries to get to the heart of your sudden carefree attitude. “Is something wrong?” 

“N-no, it’s not that,” you hold the back of your hand to your mouth, attempting to stifle the incoming bout of laughter. “It’s just… I was picturing you making this, looking all professional, with a chef’s hat and apron. Heh.” 

Another bout of faint giggles, your earlier panic slowly dying away with each laugh. Giorno’s never given much thought to such things, it falls more into the territory or something Mista would point out. He doesn’t mind being the object of your amusement, not when he gets to see you radiating joy like this. Is it too much to ask for this moment to never end? Duty will call him away eventually, the thought enough to threaten his moral. He knows he’s in deep when he starts debating whether or not the meetings today really require his presence. Unfortunately, they do, as much as he’d prefer your company over greedy and corrupt men.

There’s a lull in the conversation. Unlike him, your thoughts are much less hurried, your thoughts full of thoughts of him who sits beside you, content to stare at the sky and admire the shape of fluffy clouds. Pointing out the ones that remind you of animals or other silly things, explaining to Giorno how they might somehow be connected. A story of your own in the making. Every last drop of your arbitrary rambling, he soaks in as if it held the secrets to humanity’s existence. His intensity in stark contrast to your lackadaisical approach, hands intertwined by your side. A connection between light and darkness. Your head rests on his shoulder, the scent of his cologne mixed in with the ocean air intoxicating. 

Perhaps… perhaps this is what Heaven is like. No. This is better. Sitting here with you, the early morning sun shining down on you both, lifeless and still in the sky — he never wants this moment to end.

“I’m actually a pretty decent cook,” you pipe up, your thoughts still touched by the tasty picnic he’d put together himself. Your sentiment interrupts his thoughts, a proud gleam in your eyes as you toy with the plastic covering that used to hold your sandwich. “Or at least, I never gave myself food poisoning. That must mean something, right?” You giggle, brushing it off. 

The thought of you cooking sends his mind spiralling. Flour smeared against your cheek, hands messy with the remnants of eggs and spices, a cute apron tied around your torso… since when did he become so sappy? It’s unfitting of someone in his position, not that he cares all that much. His enemies don’t know that you’re his greatest weakness as much as you’re his greatest strength, and hopefully, they’ll never know. He’s always thought highly of you, your recent lack of resistance serving to amplify the feelings; he wants to know more, to learn more, naturally, without the need to check in on you through the countless cameras scattered around the estate.

“I’d offer to cook for you, but I think whoever already makes the food is better than me.” You blush and play it off, noticing how intently he’s looking at you. Biting your lip, you begin to wonder if divulging this information to him was for the best. He seems awfully curious now. “Surely you’d prefer meals made by a professional.”

Giorno doesn’t think before responding with unfiltered thoughts. “You’ve made me curious now, amore. I’d love to try your cooking.” 

You look down at the ground, playing with the frays on the edge of the blanket. The difficulties that would accompany cooking didn’t come to mind until he gave credence to your words.This feels too domestic, like a loving wife cooking for her husband after he returns from a long day at work. Would he enjoy your meals? What kind of dinners and breakfasts would he prefer? What kind of treats? Does he want you to make meals each time he visits? Does he have a favorite, something he’d prefer above all else? You said you were decent at cooking, but you don’t have many recipes under your arsenal, at least not from memory. Surely he’d get you some cookbooks at your soonest behest, but with the way he’s looking at you now, you’re certain he’s expecting something much more homemade, something made entirely on your own. He’s never tasted your cooking, after all…. and with how long it’s been since you’ve cooked for yourself, you’ve forgotten if it tastes as good as you remember.

Not to mention, how many tools would you be allowed to use? Giorno’s taking care in proofing the estate of anything you could use to harm him, like knives and forks, which are only provided to you during meals. All the complications alone give you a headache. It serves to showcase how impossible it can be to fully relax in Giorno’s presence, your mind always in fight or flight. A survival instinct to preserve yourself under extreme circumstances. You’d like to think those restrictions would be lessened considering how close you’ve gotten with him recently, but you know him better than that. Always calculating, always prepared, always composed...

Absorbed in your flurry of thoughts, you fail to notice Giorno is closer to you. He’s always given you appropriate distance, stuffing down his own desires in favor of keeping you comfortable. You must have made for a pitiful sight if he’s approaching you like this, brows knitting together in worry over your darkening expression. By the time you notice the stark lack of distance, you welp and nearly back away in fright, startled to find that he’s only an arm’s length away.

“I’m not… really that good, y’know.” you let out a humorless laugh, gnawing on your lower lip soon after. The words can be interpreted in a myriad of ways, far extending past the context of this situation. Your hands ball into tight fists by your side, self-deprecating emotions overflowing. Yet again, you’re on the brink of tears, in what should be a lighthearted outing. 

He doesn’t look down on you, offering nothing but an overflowing well of understanding. Giorno’s touch is light, so light you wonder if you’re imagining it in the first place. His pointer finger goes underneath your chin, the pad of his thumb rubbing soft circles as he lifts your face up. His face is so close to your own, you feel his warm breath fan against you. Loose golden hair tickles your face, which flushes at his close proximity. His other hand cups your cheek, and you lean into the touch. Accepting any form of solace is your internal justification, but even that feels like a weak excuse now.

What this is… is starting to go beyond that. And it frightens you. 

“You speak so lowly of yourself,” he frowns, not chastising you but pointing it out nonetheless. “To me… I see all your potential, your strengths. You have weaknesses, yes, as do we all. Where others fall short in this regard, you excel. Bettering yourself.” His smile grows weaker by the moment as he recalls more bitter memories. “Even in a situation like this, you have the courage to smile and laugh, to see the beauty in things.” — to see the beauty in him.

He doesn’t mention that.

He takes a deep breath, not having intended to ramble this much. You’re in awe, having never heard words pour from his lips this fast. Giorno’s always given diligent thought and calculating into every aspect of his persona around you, actions and words alike. Everything was meant to higher your opinion on him or to lull you into a false sense of ease. This confession feels authentic, without ulterior motive. Like the confession a boy would stumble through toward his crush, not the love declaration of a man with power beyond your wildest imagination.

He speaks of what he believes, unfiltered or obscured by a hidden agenda. And, despite yourself, you accept it. You embrace it, having never been spoken to in such a way, not by someone who loves you so wholeheartedly. While you might not believe his sentiments on a fundamental level, it’s enough to still your weeping heart. The ache dulls under his words, pacifying you enough to steady your erratic breathing.

His lips hesitantly brush against yours, emerald eyes asking for your permission through golden lashes. When you don’t retaliate or relent, he closes the small gap between your bodies, lips fully pressed against yours. Despite allowing it, your eyes widen at the sudden contact as his flutter closed. Quickly, you melt into the gesture, tempted to bury your hands in his loose golden locks like you have time and time before. The feeling of your lips against his is still foreign despite having spent countless nights in each other’s arms. Those kisses have always been born from passion crafted by the heat of the moment, but this was genuine. This kiss is filled with love, with adoration, and with a sense of longing and belonging he’s never felt before. His composure unravels like loose threads, his hands tangled in your hair, urging your lips impossibly closer to his. 

You lose sight of yourself. Giorno is all that exists to you at this moment. His soft lips, delicate touch, and reassuring words. When your head starts to spin, lack of oxygen becoming apparent in the thralls of passion, you attempt to pull back. He seems hesitant at first, as if not wanting this sweet moment to ever end, but gives into your qualms. You always come first to him. 

Everything feels so warm and tingly. Subconsciously, the tips of your fingers touch your parted lips, in slight disbelief at the whirlwind of events. He kissed you so gently, so passionately, but your lips are reddened and throbbing with excitement and… trepidation. What… what is this feeling? What does this mean? The look in his eyes just now, the gentleness in his touch, the passion in that kiss… it was unlike the rest. Long, sweet nights spent in each other's arms had never been this serendipitous, this loving. Not… not on your end at least. Is that what changed? He looks at you the same way he always does, but has the way you look at him changed? And… to what?

Your head is spinning with the implication of it all. You know the answer; you know you know the answer, but you shoot up from the blanket, unraveling yourself from the embrace of his arms, and dig your feet into the sand. You need time to think.

“[First]? Is everything alright?” He pipes up from the ground. “I didn’t do anything, did I?”

“N-no!” The words lodge in your throat again. Did he do something? To make you feel this way… did he trick you somehow? Is this all a lie? It has to be. There’s no way you could be… “I just… i-it was sudden. I’m sorry, I just need time to think….”, you trail off, breathless. You see his eyebrows knit with worry, and a brief lapse of regret passes over his features, but you don’t stay long enough to dwell on it.

He watches as you start to pace the beach, never once throwing a glance in his direction. He knows better than to assume the worst, always having been patient with your frequent withdrawals whenever things get too… much. Today is a day of fresh starts, and it’s wishful thinking to believe months of trauma could be fixed in the span of a few hours. He’s willing to wait, as he always has, but the sensation of your lips against his is mind-numbing. He wants more, truthfully. He wants to feel that way again, to feel your lips melded against his, like they belong there. Like you belong here, with him. Seeing you react like this is jarring, a cacophonous jolt to the doubt he’d banished to the far shores of his mind. The betrayal and worry on your face is hard to miss despite your attempts to hide it behind a curtain of hair. You’re biting your lip, and even though he can’t hear it, you’re muttering to yourself, unquestionably reprimanding your actions and everything that led up to that moment. You shouldn’t have kissed him, you shouldn’t have let your guard down, you shouldn’t have given into him like that — sentiments you’re no doubt thinking.

And yet, he is happy. It’s a start… but he hasn’t the right to rush you into something you may never truly want. You have no options — to push or guilt you into a relationship, no matter how desperately he may want to, is unfair. So, he exhales inaudibly, stuffing those selfish thoughts to the back of his mind as he always does. Avarice has no place here, not when he’s already taken so much. Keeping his desires to himself, while never a simple task, has grown more difficult. Now that he’s indulged in you once, he wants to come back for more. To experience love as he’s heard described to him countless times. The kind where two souls grow old together, their love never once wavering; a concept he was never keen on believing, considering his childhood which left bitter feelings that tainted his views on love time and time again. All of that changed when he met you.

You are worth the wait.

[adhd-wifi]

Madam Yu is an Amazing Character, Here's Why

What's up guys it's been 57 years but I finally have another meta lmao. Shoutout to those who helped me decide on this one, and for those who wanted the Yi City analysis? Don't worry that's coming soon lol.

So Madam Yu is a really important character in MDZS, and here’s a whole meta post about why I think she’s (in my opinion) the best-written minor character in the entire story. Quick note though, this meta is going to focus on the animation specifically, because that’s my favourite version of Madam Yu (though design-wise, Audio Drama Madam Yu is best lmao). The novel and CQL versions will be mentioned, but I don’t quite remember all the novel details and I don’t really like CQL-Madam Yu, so yeah. ^^; Also, this is talking about her character writing, not her morality as a person if she were real. Feel free to disagree with the post, but here's my take on her and why I love her despite not liking her as a person.

Anyways let's goooooooo. Warning: This is pretty long cuz I have a lot of feelings about Madam Yu ZiYuan. 

Madam Yu is a very well written character, easily the best written female and minor character in my opinion. From her very first appearance, we are shown much of her personality in very little time. In the novel, we are told of her fearsome reputation and why she goes by Madam Yu instead of Madam Jiang, followed by her verbal abuse towards Jiang Cheng in front of the other disciples. In the animation, she is shown talking down to the struggling disciples and scowling as soon as she sees Wei WuXian, despite smiling at Jiang YanLi moments earlier. In CQL, she is shown with a commanding authority over her husband and children, and in all three versions we’re shown how much she hates Wei WuXian. We also see her verbally abusing Jiang Cheng (Wei WuXian in the animation) in her introduction scenes, but also some degree of motherly love showed by how she adjusts Jiang Cheng’s clothes (or showing a kind smile to Jiang YanLi in the animation). 

Her introduction scenes alone tell us the core important traits of her character: That she’s a fierce and prideful woman, that she is a powerful cultivator with a frightening reputation (the animation and CQL also make a point to show ZiDian in her hands in her introductions), and that she is an abusive mother despite having love for her children (but not Wei WuXian). We also instantly understand that SHE is the reason why Jiang Cheng is so uptight about saving face for the Jiang Sect when Wei WuXian never seemed to give a fuck about it (he does, but you know, teen Wei Ying lol), berating Jiang Cheng constantly about how he doesn’t seem to be doing well enough despite being the future Sect Leader. She’s kind of the epitome of the “It’s for your own good” brand of abusive parent. 

There’s a scene in the animation, Episode 6, that strongly shows the discord between her and Jiang FengMian. This scene, though hard to watch cuz my favourite character is Wei Ying, is one of my absolute favourite character building scenes in the whole adaption, which makes me sad that it’s not in the other mediums (that I’m aware of). If you haven’t seen the animation, PLEASE go watch it because gods that’s my favourite version of Madam Yu. 

In this scene, Madam Yu is relaxing alone in one of the pavilions late at night, and Jiang FengMian joins her. She’s civil at first, speaking without any real hostility as she asks what he was doing out so late. He offers her a gift in the form of a jade hairpin, and says he bought it because he thought it was beautiful when she asked why he bought “such a useless thing”. Jiang FengMian then tells her of Jiang YanLi and Jin ZiXuan’s arranged marriage being called off, and while she’s obviously annoyed, she still doesn’t speak with the same fierceness or hostility as she did previously. 

That is, until Jiang FengMian makes a comment about how the children should not be forced into a marriage without love between them.

This is clearly a sore spot for Madam Yu, who immediately becomes hostile. Even the gentle music takes a darker turn for the shift in tone. She then makes a comment about how “Wei Ying always causes trouble”, and subtly looks back to gauge Jiang FengMian’s reaction. As soon as her husband defends Wei WuXian, she lashes out. She accuses Jiang FengMian of treating Wei WuXian better than his own son, and goes as far as to say that if Jiang Cheng had started the fight with Jin ZiXuan, Jiang FengMian wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to help him. In Madam Yu’s defense for this accusation, it’s not completely an unfair assumption, as Jiang FengMian does canonically treat Wei WuXian better, and the fact that he didn’t even try to deny Madam Yu’s accusation is very telling. Madam Yu then laughs bitterly about how Sect Leader Jiang will always be there to clean up Wei Ying’s messes before she walks away without a word, and the scene cuts to Wei WuXian watching them forlornly in the distance. 

I really really love this scene as character building, because from this scene we are very quickly shown Madam Yu’s personal problems, and how she resents her unhappy marriage and blames it on the child she believes took it from her, but the scene also doesn’t hold back on showing that she’s the one being unreasonable and unwilling to talk things out because she lets anger, pride and resentment control her. We see how she was fine and willing to try and talk at first, trying to reason with Jiang FengMian about why the marriage should be carried out, because their daughter does like Jin ZiXuan, and she also wants the Jiang Sect to have good relations to the Jin Sect like the Meishan Yu Sect does due to her close friendship with Madam Jin. This shows that she does care about her daughter’s feelings and that she’s doing what she can to help the Jiang Sect. But as soon as the sore topic of the loveless marriage is brought up, she blames Wei WuXian for it and starts the argument. 

From this scene, we also learn the extent of Jiang FengMian’s favouritism and how it hurt Madam Yu as well as their son, and having Wei WuXian watching their argument creates a nice transition into the next scene where he apologies to Jiang YanLi for ruining the marriage, showing that he feels guilty about the situation and most likely, the discord between his adoptive parents in general. 

As the story goes on, we see that Madam Yu’s problem is basically based ENTIRELY around Wei WuXian. She gets mad at Jiang YanLi for peeling lotus seeds for him. She gets mad at Jiang FengMian for giving Wei WuXian a choice to go or not to go to the Wen doctrine. She gets mad at Jiang Cheng for trying to calm her down and berates him for not being as good as Wei WuXian. As the audience, we are more sympathetic to Wei WuXian’s point of view, and so far Madam Yu comes off as an abusive bitch who hates him for no reason. 

Then after the whole XuanWu incident, we get the scene where Madam Yu storms in on Wei WuXian’s conversation with Jiang FengMian and Jiang Cheng. And holy fuck does it make her seem even more unredeemable than she already was. She comes in right as Jiang FengMian is scolding Jiang Cheng for not upholding the family values, refusing to recognize Wei WuXian’s accomplishment and saying he was bound to bring ruin to the Jiang Sect sooner or later. When Jiang FengMian asks her why she was there, after all it’s common knowledge that she doesn’t care about Wei WuXian’s injuries, she intentionally aggravates him by literally grabbing and shoving Jiang Cheng into her husband’s face, forcefully reminding him that Jiang Cheng was their “true son”. She accuses him of disliking Jiang Cheng because she was the mother, then accuses him of actually being Wei WuXian’s real father. And with that, we instantly know what he whole fucking problem is. 

It’s jealousy. She had been jealous of Jiang FengMian’s feelings for CangSe Sanren this whole time, and took it out on an innocent child who lost his family at a young age. All that unreasonable, misguided resentment, all directed towards a dead woman’s son. A dead woman her husband was most likely in love with, who hadn’t even returned those feelings. 

Personally, when this scene showed up, I decided, “Yup, I fucking hate this bitch.” But I will say this, this scene was also such a good character building scene. It amplified the drama, always necessary in ancient Chinese stories, and was a catalyst that led to a very important plot point: Wei WuXian’s promise to Jiang Cheng. 

Time to talk about how Madam Yu actually functions as a plot-driving character! 

As I just said, this scene drove Wei WuXian to make the promise of becoming Jiang Cheng’s right-hand man in the future, and it was a promise he had fully intended to keep. Madam Yu, and to a lesser extent also Jiang FengMian, were the driving force behind that decision. By now, we as the audience fully understand the core factors of Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng’s insecurities. Wei WuXian feels like he doesn’t have a proper place in the Jiang Family because of Madam Yu, and Jiang Cheng feels like he’s never doing enough to please either of his parents. The abuse from Madam Yu and the neglect from Jiang FengMian weighs down on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders constantly as he feels unloved by both parents, meanwhile Wei WuXian believes he is what ruined the love for the family just by being alive. 

To me, Madam Yu is the strongest catalyst character in the story because she drives the story’s two central characters, Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng, in a way that both explains and exploits their insecurities and the decisions they make because of those problems. She is legitimately the primary reason why both boys are so messed up (though Jiang FengMian played no small part in that too), and we feel the effects of her actions on the two of them long after she's dead. Which brings us to the big topic of her death. 

Now, let's be real, Madam Yu was still kind of a fridged woman like Wen Qing and Jiang YanLi. However, in my opinion she was at the very least a fridged woman done right. The reason for this is that both Wen Qing and Jiang YanLi were overall much weaker characters (especially in the novel) and essentially both died for no real reason except to cause more tragedy and pain for Wei WuXian to push him to his death. They both only died to set up Wei Ying's death, which is why I'm furious about that, but that's for another post (let me know if y'all want it lol). But Madam Yu's death? Her death was far, far more significant and there's a huge reason why a lot of fans, regardless of which adaptation they follow, agree that Madam Yu's last scenes were her best ones. 

Now, onto the analysis of the massacre of Lotus Pier. It started with Wang LingJiao’s pompous ass waltzing in and demanding that they chop off Wei WuXian’s hand and submit to the Wen Sect, even after Madam Yu violently lashed out at Wei WuXian with ZiDian to the point where he shouldn’t have been able to move for days (the animation doesn't agree though cuz they wanted a cool fight scene lmao). This scene is very interesting for Madam Yu’s character, because you can interpret it in two ways; one that makes Madam Yu seem to hold SOME sympathy for Wei WuXian as a member of the Jiang Sect, or another that shows her tactical insight as well as her pride for her Sect and status, or even both. Later in the story, Wen Qing reveals that Madam Yu hadn’t actually hurt Wei WuXian as badly as she claimed, and we can interpret this as either her not truly wanting to cause lasting damage to Wei WuXian, or that she knew there would be a fight regardless and made sure Wei WuXian would be able to fight the Wens off along with her and Jiang Cheng. Madam Yu has previously made it clear that she believes in Wei WuXian’s skills in combat and cultivation, shown in her berating comparison of him and Jiang Cheng, so it would make sense for her to keep one of the Jiang Sect’s strongest fighters on his feet while putting on a show for Wang LingJiao in case it was enough to satisfy the Wens into leaving them alone for the time being (while probably finally having an excuse to act violently against the poor kid she hates maybe). Personally, I do think it is more of the latter, but I also don’t think Madam Yu is one to turn to physical abuse too much. Yes, she slapped Jiang Cheng in the shoulder in the novel introduction and shoves him around when she’s angry, but aside from that we have no reason to believe she actively and frequently engages in physical abuse against them as they never seem to be scared of her in that way, and Jiang Cheng was particularly horrified and scared when she did hit Wei WuXian in that scene with Wang LingJiao, so I lean towards believing it was a rare occurrence (not that emotional abuse really any better, but you know.) 

Quick bonus point, I love how in CQL she just nods at JinZhu and YinZhu and they immediately know what to do, and also when she trusted them to hold Wen ZhuLiu off while she escaped with the boys. It really shows how close the three of them are despite being mistress and servants, having grown up and trained together. JinZhu and YinZhu are criminally under-utilised and I will be forever bitter about it.

In the scene that follows, the animation has my whole heart once again. Mostly because it was the best fight scene don’t @ me, but also because it showed her fighting side by side with Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian. Madam Yu took the frontline first, taking out the large group headed towards them before letting the boys rush forward ahead of her to fight, only taking over the main fight when Wen ZhuLiu entered the fray. During their battle, Wen ZhuLiu used the body of a dead Wen to block her attack, blinding her with blood as she paused in shock at the unexpected action. Realizing she could not win the unfair fight, Madam Yu quickly switched tactics and escaped, aiming to make sure that the Jiang heir survived. I really liked seeing her fight alongside them, even though it doesn’t totally make sense with Wei WuXian’s injury, because it does give a better look into them being able to function as combat partners. It is implied that Madam Yu trained them more than Jiang FengMian did and that'sthe headcanon I go for myself, so I enjoyed that scene a lot. Then comes her biggest defining moment, her final scene with Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian. Please note: This is 100% the animation and why anime-Madam Yu is best Madam Yu.

Madam Yu shoves Wei WuXian into a boat, screaming that this was all his fault. She knows it’s over, that there’s no chance of winning this fight, so she gives ZiDian to Jiang Cheng, and tells him, in the softest voice we’ve ever heard from her, to leave. When Jiang Cheng starts begging her to escape with them, she gives into her emotions and pulls her son in for a hug, telling him he’s a good child. Jiang Cheng is shocked, likely never having received her affection like this before. Here, Madam Yu has no reason to hide her feelings anymore, because she knows she's going to die, and she knows she cannot bear to flee Lotus Pier as she is the Jiang Matriarch and has her pride. She spares Wei WuXian, but I don't think it's because she wants him to live. I think she spared him to ensure her hot-headed son will have someone to protect him, because she knows that Jiang Cheng will absolutely try to save her, and because she fully believes that Wei WuXian absolutely will fulfill that promise. She knows Wei WuXian is loyal to the Sect, and more importantly, to Jiang Cheng. She knows that while Wei WuXian is more reckless and impulsive, Jiang Cheng is the one who reacts more emotionally. Just like herself. When demanding that Wei WuXian give his life to protect Jiang Cheng, she’s not simply giving him an order as a master to a servant. She was telling him, in her own way, that she cannot protect Jiang Cheng as she believed she was doing any longer, and entrusts that task to Wei WuXian, because he’s the only person who can do so. In this very moment, she knows she’s walking to her death, and she knows she would never see her children again, and doesn’t know if her husband would even return for her, because she genuinely believes she’s unloved by him. So, she gives her family to Wei WuXian in the worst way possible, and we see her biggest flaw of her unyielding pride also being her greatest strength as she fights to protect her family and home one last time.

This scene, this GODDAMN scene, is Madam Yu’s most defining moment as a catalyst character, because now her character has served its full purpose. It’s the moment both we as the audience, AND Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng, see that she is more than an abusive, jealous mother. She is more than just prideful and fierce. She’s also a “real” person with emotions and problems she never managed to work out, but did truly love her son, her family, her sect. But she was also never going to be redeemed, because she refused to face her own demons even to the very end. She was such a prideful and stubborn person, that she died upright, holding on to her sword in a refusal to kneel to the Wens. And for Jiang Cheng, to see the proudest, most powerful person he knew, dead and disrespected by Wen Chao and Wang LingJiao, well, can you blame him for snapping? 

Madam Yu’s presence in the story was primarily to set up the conflict between Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian. Her problems, her abuse, caused them to develop insecurities that became their worst flaws, with Jiang Cheng always feeling inferior because she always told him he was inferior, and with Wei WuXian’s guilt and tendency to blame himself for anything that goes wrong around him. Jiang FengMian’s lousy parenting and neglect (y'all want an analysis on him too cuz he's honestly a really interesting take on a bad parent imo), which is also a form of emotional abuse by the way, shouldn’t be ignored, but Madam Yu is simply the better and more impactful character. We see how her starting arguments with Jiang FengMian push the boys into heartfelt talks, leading to the promise between them before Lotus Pier fell. We see how she set up Wei WuXian’s feeling of owing an unpayable debt to the Jiang Sect, and to her for sparing his life to protect her son. But she also wasn’t simply a plot-device-abusive character type. She is fully shown to have her own motivations, her own problems unique to her, and her own strengths and flaws in ways that a lot of other minor characters don’t get, especially in the animation. Hell, not even Jiang YanLi, a character supposedly being more significant than her, got such an in-depth character. Madam Yu isn’t a developed character by any means, but she has a lot of depth, and the impact she left on both the audience and the canon characters is felt long after she’s dead. When Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian break things off, Jiang Cheng talks about how Wei WuXian is the perfect disciple of the Jiang Sect, and that leads to Wei WuXian leaving so he “doesn’t cause them any more trouble”. Wei WuXian cannot abandon the ideals of the man who took him in all those years ago, but he also felt that he had given his all to Jiang Cheng already in his golden core, and thus he felt that he should respect Madam Yu’s presumed wishes and stop causing more problems for them. Even far, far later on, Wei WuXian still feels guilt towards her and Jiang FengMian’s death and wishes to pay respects, but doesn’t argue with Jiang Cheng when he’s told that he doesn’t deserve even that. And honestly, we also just know who’s fault that unreasonable guilt really is. 

I say Madam Yu is the best minor character, and a fridged character done right, because she genuinely felt like an actual person, an actual abusive mother but also a human being with her own complex feelings while also being an overall bad person who (arguably) needed to be out of the protagonist's life. To get a little personal for a moment, Madam Yu strongly reminds me of my own mother, who is quite emotionally abusive, though not as extreme, which might have made me feel more realism from her than most other minor characters and definitely made me think that MXTX has some personal experiences herself. The animation is the best at this, because her tones and expressions change drastically here and there when it’s needed, plus her voice actress does such an outstanding job conveying her emotions instead of just shouting everything like the novel and CQL presents it, but she maintains her pride, the most defining trait, both her greatest strength and greatest flaw, until she was no longer needed in the story. A lot of stories with such a character tend to give them an emotional breakdown before they end their arc, but Madam Yu had none of that (...except...in CQL...I guess...yeah that’s why I don’t like that one). Her death was to push the story and the motivations of two male characters forward, and I agree that it’s not fantastic given that most other women died within the same story for male plot progress, but her death actually felt, to me at least, like it also had a genuine purpose to her own character as well as the plot. Wen Qing’s death was heartbreaking to me because I love her and she is my QUEEN, but narratively pointless especially since Wen Ning came back and in the end she was only really there to perform the golden core transfer. Jiang YanLi’s death was just...utterly unnecessary man pain. I have made no secret of hating how her death was handled. 

With Madam Yu, I personally really liked that she essentially was an irredeemable person that would never change herself out of pride so she almost needed to die, but was still human nonetheless. And going by MDZS’s heavy theme of grey morality, she fits the theme perfectly. And that’s why, while Madam Yu may be an abusive and terrible person, she’s easily one of the strongest characters in the whole story, right up there with Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng, and Jin GuangYao in my opinion. 

I hope y’all enjoyed this monster of a post of me rambling about the angry purple lady.

[fallenrepublick]

We're Okay

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

OOPS IT'S PART THREE-

Well... not exactly. This is more like a self-indulgent bonus chapter as a break from the plot... It's just smut. Literally. If you're not into this, don't worry at all, because it has no bearing on anything, and the actual plot will pick up right from chapter two.

Warnings: General NSFW (obviously), but nothing harsh or overly kinky, pretty vanilla..., one single blood mention

Word Count: 2040

The room was already dark. True, it was quite like him to stay out for longer periods of time, standing on the balcony and looking to the sky, as if things might change if he dreamed about it long enough. And if you were so inclined, you’d join him, sliding your hand to his shoulder from behind, guiding his mind back to you the way you had done his body. His hold in return promises your success.

Yet today you find yourself pacing, stepping back and forth through the small space alone, Themis finally asleep in the room across, and you bite your lip, hating the uncertainty. The way they looked at him. Yes, you knew there would be hostility. You knew it from the moment you left Csilla. But… all of them?

Their eyes… their hands at their hips, prepared to draw a blaster at even the slightest infraction, hesitation and a softening of their features only present upon seeing you. But their attention did not shift, reason did not overtake them. It was only with their leader’s words that they stood down, albeit reluctantly.

Escaping one scrutiny, only to dive headfirst into another. If life hadn’t already been so cruel, you might have asked why. By now, though, you know better.

The door slides, shaking you from your thoughts, pulling your head back on instinct. Your arms drop from encasing your chest protectively, and you reach for your husband, who almost instantly reaches back, taking your hands in his and pressing them to his lips, as if relieved to see you after so long apart.

“What was it?” you ask him, scanning him slightly for any new injuries, despite your previous trust in the woman that led you there. “They didn’t…”

“No…” he says softly nothing but reassurance in his voice. And yet you sensed guilt. “We can stay, but… things have changed. Thrawn… has changed. I have to move against him.”

“You don’t,” you urge, taking his face in your hands gently, asking silently for his eyes to meet yours. The slight glow is a comfort, just as it always had been, and yet you can’t help but feel as if they’re dimmer, as if the lights have grown tired of shining the way they had so long ago. “You don’t have to do this. We can find somewhere else. We can leave again.”

Your fingers brush at the scar on his cheek, protective, promises of no more harm coming to him as long as you can help it. Not being able to help it might as well be your worst fear. “It won’t make any difference.” He watches as your eyes narrow, unable to release your worry for him, one that hadn’t quite gone away since the day he was back in your arms. Now, it seems, he’s only continued to put himself in harm’s way. “This is… everywhere. The galaxy itself is under this single control. There’s no escaping it unless we try to go back.” Home. Once upon a time, he would have said, “go back home.”

“I have to do this,” he continues, more sure, more certain of his future. “These people… they hunt those with the Third Sight. It’s… It’s not about them. It’s about her.”

You raise yourself up as best you can, him in turn meeting you in the middle, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I don’t want something else happening to you,” you whisper, more afraid than you had realised. “Not after everything.”

“I swear,” he says prematurely, unable to break the habit of making promises you both know he can’t always keep. The words soothe you regardless. “We will be okay.”

How often you said that to him. We will be okay. The day you found him. Every day after. Even as he struggled, as he bled through bandages, as his chest heaved and he tried to make you leave him behind for your own sake, you still whispered into weak hands that you held tightly as if it were his very life, “We will be okay.”

And so, hands loosening, you prepare to release him, accepting it as an answer, at least for now. A soft smile on your face, a step back. It’s not a fearful silence, not like he was prepared for, but rather, one setting the unease to rest, one promising a coming of tomorrow, when perhaps you will discuss once more. But for now, “I’ll be washing up,” you say, beginning to break away, suddenly lonely at the thought of being away again, even if it were only a room over. He seemed to think the same.

His hand doesn’t quite release, leaving you standing across from him, your arms connected in a line between you, oriented as if caught in the middle of a waltz. There’s a tilt in his head when you turn back, almost a smile at the corners of his mouth, but not quite.

“Or…” you say, trying not to laugh at his ridiculousness. “You could join me?”

How you missed the laugh he gives, despite the pressure, despite this place being not entirely what you wanted, a weight is gone, expectations all but meaningless. Already, your heart skips the way it did when you met him.

“Well, if you insist,” he smiles crookedly, happily following as you all but drag him out to the smaller room, less extravagant than you were used to, though he wouldn’t have it any different.

Impatient as ever, his lips are already at your neck, slow presses and warm breath sending chills through you, his hands working at the layers you wear. You tug at his clothes just the same, allowing this sudden, unrelenting need for him control your actions, the feeling of going so long without him all but blocking out any other reason.

And your hands find his hair, sliding out the tie at the end of his braid, brushing through the new waves that no doubt would be washed away moments after hitting the water. It matters little, he knows, strands falling over his shoulders, smiling into the kiss he plants on your own lips. You quite like it that way.

Clothes litter the floor haphazardly, his touch becoming more urgent, more desperate, refusing to stop even as he leads you backwards beneath the running water. The warmth hits all at once, sliding over your skin, his touch even smoother, obscured by the steam raising around your bodies. He holds at your waist, doing everything he can to press himself to you, not a breadth of space between you.

“I know… I know it’s only been a few days…” he sighs, more so to himself as he tries and fails to reason out his desperation, having moved himself much further down to reach your chest. He melts for a moment in the soft whimpers you give as he lightly sucks at your skin. “But gods I’ve needed you… I’ll always need you.”

It’s as if he’s trying to catch you off-guard, quickly slipping his hand down between your legs, the reward to your anticipation sending you further backwards, finally against the icy wall, unsure if the shaking in your legs is from the stone, Thrass, or a little bit of both. Yet he isn’t one to keep you waiting, his free hand dragging paths across your skin knowing by heart the exact places that make you sigh and gasp for him, the last instrument in the universe he can still play.

And you hold to his neck, desperate for something to ground you as he rubs and plays with your clit, low hums of laughter following every sudden sound you make when he changes his style. Fingers run over his pale scars, the lines almost reminiscent of lightning spread over the contours of his body, many of them coming to meet at his waist, a harsh reminder of what might have been. You touch them anyways, kisses following the tracks, as goddesses bestow blessings to those who’ve given so much, and he holds each as their own reward, remembering that each one is a bit of your heart made to fill the gaps that still keep him from being whole. One day, perhaps, you might bring him all together.

Pulling his hand slowly away, ignoring your breath of displeasure at being left so, he instead guides your legs further apart, holding to the bottom of your thigh as it follows his lead around his waist. His voice is at your neck again, hot breath enough to rival the warmth of the water still gracing your bodies.

“I’ll be gentle,” he assures, barely in a whisper, if even there at all. He enters you slowly, a gradual movement promising that you feel every bit of it as he goes, sliding into you easily, his very existence designed solely to be yours in every moment now, as well as after. Each second he takes is a new wave of pleasure, another moan, another cry of his name, one after the other becoming louder, echoing in the otherwise empty chamber.

He’s done so little, yet you find yourself begging already, “Please, please don’t stop,” as if you were in any danger of being left unsatisfied. But no, it isn’t in his nature to do such things, and he begins the moment you say it, his hips rolling painfully slowly into you, deliberate and intoxicated by how tight you are around him. His own soft moans are like a song in your ear, interrupted every so often by a whimper of your name and muffled by more kisses onto your jawline.

Soon enough, the need only becomes worse, every inch of your body growing tense, pulling him closer to you, wanting more than what you have.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he still says, breath short and strained, “I need you, I need you, my love,” is all he manages to say, likely, all he knows. He obliges a request you didn’t need to make, moving to the rhythm he knows you love, your heart racing faster than you can measure, beats he can feel against him as he holds you. You shake and tremble as you reach your edge, your legs curling so tightly around him that there’s barely enough opportunity for him to continue, and yet he does, pushing you through your climax, cursing under his breath as you cum together, your cries surely loud enough to be heard from at least the hallway. All evidence of your time washes away with the flow of the water, yet he still holds to you, remaining connected these last few moments, unable to let go just yet.

The heaving of his chest slows, practically willing your own to follow suit, a confident embrace protecting you the way he always hoped, only loosening later on, allowing your feet to touch the floor lightly. Your hands cradle the sides of his face, watching relief form so clearly as he continues to gaze at you. It’s so odd, he surely still thinks, that you love him so. That he can still do such things for you, that over all the scars, all the pain you see in him, you love him above such things, and he in turn can still touch you, can still love you the way he always had. The kiss you give is small, only barely there, and yet placed as if to seal away a letter sent to a lover far off, and he knows, running a warm towel over your hair, across your damp skin, that you haven’t left.

Your hands intertwine, now mostly dry, your forehead pressed to his for the moment just before you dress. And he smiles, every bit of contact a gift he’s learned to hold to as if it were the last. A touch on the small of your back, and a quiet sigh. If anyone had seen, they might have said it was a conversation all its own. You know you have to part, rest for the day to come, but there’s so much to think, so much to feel. In the silence of it all, you whisper to him, to only him,

“We’re okay.”

[loverabbitss]

Bury Me In Bliss (Prt 1)

Y/N P.O.V.

I grew more and more upset with hearing my husband rant about how the resort we were staying at didn't have shrimp cocktails. Mind you we were on our honeymoon so all I wanted to do was relax and enjoy ourselves. But all that I have experienced has been him doing work as if he isn't on vacation and him complaining. It had me wondering if I had made the wrong decision, but I loved him dearly.

"I'm going to the pool to relax babe." I announce to him as I gather my things into my bag.

"mmhm yeah baby enjoy" he responds without even looking up from his laptop.

I glance at him after I've finished making my bag. He didn't even flinch to try to come with me; I roll my eyes. Work seems more important to him then our relationship, whatever, I just needed to get away from this atmosphere.

Walking out of the hotel suite we shared I feel the breeze of the nearby ocean hit me as I decide to take the stairs today. It gave me time to really experience life and indulge myself in it. Once I make it downstairs passing by the front desk the clerk greets me telling me to have a nice day. I smile thanking her as I set out to the pool.

As I start walking I find that I can't find my way to the pool even though I was following signs. I make a turn going into a secluded walk way covered by walls of wild flowers on each side. I stop pulling out a pamphlet I packed in my bag before I left our room. From where my location was it seems I wasn't far from the resort's pool. Without realizing it I was unconsciously walking and reading. However, soon I bumped into something or someone.

"Omg I'm so sorry" I quickly try to apologize glancing up.

"Are you lost babygirl?" She says.

Oh I was lost alright. I was lost for words, sentences, even a simple smile to be polite couldn't be conjured up. She looked like someone out of a movie, someone you wouldn't normally see in real life. Her jet black shiny hair flown down her back as beautiful tattoos dawned her arms. She wore a white bottom skirt and a black bikini top that her big breasts toppled over in. I had to snap myself out of my thoughts before I looked more weird just mesmerizing her.

"N-no I'm good thank you" I respond looking to the ground to avoid those strong brown eyes that seems to swallow me whole.

I look back to see if anyone is behind me because this walk way was pretty small and seemed to be an area that people would come through or at least for my bikini bottom's I hope so. Turning back around I prepare to scurry off to my destination, but when I look she is no where to be found. It was as if she was never there, more of a figment of my imagination. I chuckle softly to myself before continuing on my way.

Once I make it to the pool I smile at seeing families playing having fun doing, couples enjoying one another, and then there's me. I was all alone on a honeymoon that was supposed to be spent with my workaholic husband. Laying down one of the lounge chairs I find the prefect shaded areas. After prepping my areas I lean back with my glasses on reading. Lover's Delight, was the perfect book, two lovers from totally different background find love between a rock and a hard place. Oh and it surely helped that the intimate scenes were very detailed.

I got lost in the book and didn't realize it was time for the pool to close. How didn't I hear the sound of splashing and laughter diminish. Looking around there was only about two crew members cleaning one of which had yell out to me about them closing soon. I get up packing up sighing, it had turned dark outside so the resort had tikis lite around almost every area.

The sound of the waves from the ocean front that wasn't too far was so soothing. I was in paradise and yet my mind still wondered to that beautiful women whose accent sent chills down my spine. I shouldn't have such a reaction towards her, when I've never met or seen her a day in my life. My daydream was broken by a shuffling sound that raised the hairs on my skin and gave me goosebumps. I was by myself, stupid Y/N.

I started to speed walk as the sound got louder. Once I turned a corner there stood two big buff dudes that looked like security guards and a shorter dude in the middle. He was covered in a nice designer silk shirt with black slacks on with a tooth pick leaning out mouth. He reeked of coach cologne, which I only knew because that's what I bought my husband for his present, My husband! My mind switched thinking what he must've been thinking where I was especially by this time.

"Your going to need to come with us ma'am" his rasp thick voice cut my ears.

I clear my throat fear seeping into my bones.

"No, I have to get back to my husband. So if you will excuse me" I say as I try to walk around them, but then am blocked.

"I wouldn't refuse if I were you. See we've talked to your husband already he doesn't mind one bit for you to come speak to my niece." He responds walking closer to me.

"Your niece? Why would I want to speak to her?" I ask backing away slowly.

"Well it's not so much you wanna speak to her as she really wants to speak to you. Which I can see why" He responds reaching his hand out to me.

I look down at it, it seemed to be my only ticket out of this seeing as my prick of a husband allowed for this to happen. A divorce was so going to be in the works for sure. It all happened so fast, accepting his offer they whisked me away someplace unknown. But oh boy was it beautiful, light shined bright on the outside making the golden beige walls show. Gorgeous bright flowers spread across the land, which could have been easily an acre or two. We pull up to the brick covered curved drive way, one of the buff guards helped me out.

"Welcome home" The persistent uncle laid his hand out to the house.

I raise my eyebrow shaking my head.

"I have a home already and this isn't it" I slightly bark at him.

The smug look on his face spoke volumes about how he didn't like my remark. I could tell my defiance against wanting to come was eating at him by the shift in his demeanor. Instead of responding he just walks away and the buff securities give me a light push to follow.

Soon a man with more guards comes rushing towards him. Geez are they all buff here. This man looked totally different from the uncle. His skin wasn't covered in tattoos and compared to the uncle's olive complexion he was much paler almost as if the sun completely forgot about him. Clear glasses sat upon his button nose and he looked flushed or anxious to speak to the uncle.

"Sir D'Angelo, your niece has been waiting your arrival. She's been getting very upset since you left." He says as he walks along side the uncle or Sir D'Angelo I should say.

He sighs heavily.

"I apologize, I had trouble getting whomever this is to her to come along." He scoffs.

"Nothing, I'm nothing to her." I call out rolling my eyes.

It was bad enough I had to be here despite my stupid husband agreeing to this whole ordeal, but then I had to here this guy's mouth? Yeah no.

The two men started to drift off into a conversation about what seemed to be family matters. From what I picked up by listening is that this niece of his was the next in charge since her father has passed and apparently she is quite the talk of a lot of people. Apparently not though because I've never heard of her.

We arrive at the front door and the securities make quick work of opening the doors for the three of us. If the outside wasn't impressive then the inside stole the show. Antiques, expensive cloths, and delicate furniture surrounded the parts of the house that I saw.

"Ahh my guest has arrived" I hear a thick familiar accent, it can't be.

There's no way it was her, she was just a figment of my imagination. The way she disappear earlier was too fast for even me. I turn towards the direction of her voice and there she was, she was real. Clad in a black and gold silk button up that had two buttons loose to showcase her chest with white pants that made the shirt the main event she stood tall. She easily hovered over me and as she walked up a smirk covered her face.

"Hey there babygirl" she spoke again.

There goes that word again, that word that sent chills down my spine. Her coming closer to me took me out of my gawking stare with her. She smelt of a Acqua di Gioia.

"Hello" I respond shyly focusing my eyes on something else anything really that wasn't her.

"Thank you for bringing her uncle. I begin to worry you had gotten lost old man" she smiles joking.

He lets out a big chuckle, and for the first time since I met him he smiled.

"You picked a tough one Gaia, good luck my love. I'll see you in the morning." He waves his good bye going to the other side of the house with a cigar now burning in his mouth.

"Picked? Picked me for what?" I asked now snapping my eyes to her.

"You need not worry about that, come let me show you to where you will be staying" she responds grabbing my waist walking me towards a dim lit hallway.

Wine colored drapes covered the walls as family pictures were posted on them. I was so taken back by this whole place that the fact that all these people were strangers and I was staying in a house with them hadn't crossed my mind yet. Being in her embrace as she walked me to what I assumed was going to be my room chilled me. Her grip on my waist enticed something in me, something that made me wet.

"Here's were you will be staying" she said as she opened a big brown door.

Inside was a bed covered in black cotton sheets, tile that had designs all on them, a big window that led to a balcony with a view of the ocean, and dressers & night stands. It was beautiful, but it seemed like someone already stayed in the room even as it was made up.

"I'm not sleeping anywhere until I'm told why I'm here" I persisted turning around towards her.

Her smile turned into a frown and right there I wanted to kiss her, no you don't your married remember? Oh yeah

"I don't want you to have to worry your pretty self about that. I'll tell you everything in the morning I promise." She walks over to me bringing me into her by my waist.

"Whatever, fine" it was the only short thing I could think of to avoid stuttering my life away.

"You can wash up in there. There's already clothes set aside in there for you." She resumes.

Yeah not creepy at all.

I place my things down in a nearby chair, then goes into the bathroom. The all white bathroom was a completely different look than what I had seen of the house so far. The shower completely covered the wall and the doors were glass meaning anyone could see through them, the tub was in another corner and was big enough for at least four people. The counter had two sinks and a full wall length mirror.

"This whole house is big" I say to myself.

I start the bathtub because there was no way in hell I was taking the chance of someone walking in on me while I was in the shower. I was confident in my body but not that confident. Once the tub was filled I stripped getting in the warm water enveloped me hugging every particle of my body.

As relaxing as the bath was I had to leave it. I got out drying off, draining the tub, and changing into the pajamas that were set for me. They were light blue panties with a button up top and shorts. Once I finished I walked out to find Gaia in the bed reading dressed in a similar pajama set like mine, but it was black and the bottoms were long. I noticed a slight bump towards the top but ignored it thinking it was an bubble from the pajamas being too big.

"Uh are you in here to tell me goodnight?" I asked slowly walking over to the bed.

"No, this is our bed, our room, our bathroom" she responds patting the spot next to her.

"Our? I'm married. The only ours I know is with my husband" I say standing by the ottoman at the end of the bed.

"Yes yes, the workaholic husband who is too busy all the time to attend to your needs. Tell me Y/N when was the last time that you busted?" A coy look crossed her face and her hazel eyes buried into my brown ones.

I could feel the tension in the room build and the wave in my stomach starting to flow. I twisted my head side ways slightly in a questioning matter.

"First off, how do you know my name? Secondly, why does it matter when's the last time I busted? It's none of your business" I responded.

Her lips curl into a smirk and she raises her eyebrows.

"Oh I know everything about you my darling. But what I don't know is how you seem satisfied with someone who barely pays you any mind. Someone who flew you cross countries just to stare at him laptop all day and he on work conferences." She says coming closer across the bed to me.

I unconsciously move backwards.

"He is a busy man, he is the boss he has to know everything. I get my needs the way I have to." My breathe hitches when she comes chest to chest with me with my back against the wall.

Her soft hand comes up to my chin lifting my head up towards her. Yeah she easily towered over me.

"How's that?" She husked out.

I was speechless. Her eyes were scanning every bit of my face searching for a response and when my mouth was agape she chuckled slightly.

"See babygirl I can treat you so much better I can learn how your body reacts to my touch" she leans into my ear and her breathe makes goosebumps cover my skin.

Her hands roam my body making me twitch some. She shouldn't have this effect on me especially because I'm married to my husband no matter how inconsiderate and stupid he can be sometimes. Breaking me out of my thought was the feeling of her hand caressing my thigh.

"No no, this is wrong. I'm married I love him dearly and I shouldn't be doing this." I push her back slightly, which didn't work because she was stronger than me.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself of that?" She looks down at me moving back some.

"I don't have to convince myself of something I know. Now if you excuse me I have to get back to my hotel." I refused to stay and get tempted by this oh so beautiful woman who at the moment I was ready to risk it all for.

Before I could reach to grab my bag she grabbed my arm spinning me back around into her. Her arms entrapped me in her embrace against her. Even after showering she smelled amazing like a rose garden.

"Your not going anywhere especially this dark and this far from your resort. Just stay and I'll show you what I have to offer." She said with a slight dominance sticking to her voice.

"Fine, but I'm leaving first thing in the morning" I respond wiggling out of her grip and over to I guess my side of the bed.

"Yeah we will se about that" she says going to her side.

We both get in, me scooted all the way to the edge of my side and her closer to the middle. She huffs seeing me turned away from her but besides to leave it be as it was so late.

*next morning*

The morning soon comes and when I wake up. I hear gurgles and moans, there's no way she is having sex in this room while I'm in it. I turn to see the bed empty and at the end of it the sight is shocking yet such a turn on. She was getting sucked off by some maid she must've had.

Her small grunts could be heard, but me shuffling in the bed made her look up towards me and put on a show. She started face fucking the girl who was enjoying being used as a example I guess.

"This could be you. I'd be much more gentle though and I have a feeling you'd enjoy this." She says picking up her pace fucking the girl's throat deeper.

I look at her raising my eyebrows to not give away the fact that she was right. I'd love for it to be me.

"You think using her as an example is going to turn me on or make me change my mind? I'm still going back to the resort, so you might as well save it." I reply getting out of the bed heading to the bathroom.

I freshen up brushing my teeth, which was really awkward considering she was face fucking some girl not to far from me and eventually came. I finished up washing my face, taking a towel I pat dried my face off. As I opened my eyes through the mirror she was looking at me with pure hunger in her eyes as she pulls up her pajama pants.

So that's what that bump was. A rod big enough to end someone up in the hospital, bigger than my husband I could tell you that. I blushed lightly covering it up with a clearance of my throat before walking out the bathroom going to grab my bag. She watches me this time and doesn't try to stop me. It was a bit disheartening because it was the opposite of what I wanted her to do.

I walk out trying to figure out where to go and stubble upon the dining area. A big wooden table was packed with breakfast; fruits, pancakes, biscuits, French toast, bacon, sausage, preservatives & jellies, coffee, juice, and tea. My mouth water and my stomach growled.

"I planned for us to eat something before we started our day. Though I expected it to begin much differently." Her addicting voice carried through the dining area.

I twitched a bit at the wetness building in my bottoms.

"No thank you. I just wanna get back to my hotel." I respond not sparing her glance.

"I would if I could darling" Gaia says.

"What do you mean? Just have the same security take me back, simple." I scrunch my face turning towards her.

"If you sit I'll explain, please Y/N. I'll feel much better when you eat." She nearly pleads.

I reluctantly sigh walking over and making a small quick plate with a cup of coffee.

"Now elaborate please." I say before popping a pineapple in my mouth.

She makes herself a hearty plate then of all the chairs at the table she sits next to me. Ironic. She leans back in the chair looking at me as if she was memorizing the way I looked.

"My family company has worked with your husband's company for years now. About a few months ago we flew in to have a meeting to introduce myself as the new head. I just so happen to see a lovely woman all hugged up on him before we all sat in the meeting room. Besides that we commenced the meeting and discovered how much work between the partnership needed to be done. So—" she stops mid story her eyes glued to my lips.

I look up at her waiting for her to finish her story.

"You've got something" Using a napkin she wipes my lip gently removing some dripping liquid from the fruits.

She clears her throat.

"Anyways, we started working on the partnership and the more we worked the more I found out about his beyond beautiful wife. I just knew I had to have you and when I found discrepancies in our partnership on his in I agreed to tarnish them if he made an agreement with me." She further explains.

"To spend time with me?" I question furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

"Of course and he hesitantly agreed saying he was grateful I didn't leave the partnership." She finished then dug into her food.

I however had lost my appetite and leant back in the chair. I couldn't believe that my husband agreed to have me damn near kidnapped just to spend time with someone who I have never met in my life. My mind was swimming, I couldn't process half of the information she had just given me.

"Umm excuse me for a second" I pushed myself away from the table, this time she didn't try to stop me.

I walked back to the same room I just came from walking over to the big window opening it a bit to get some fresh air. How was I supposed to take this? How was I supposed to approach my husband after this? I needed to talk with him.

I briskly walk back to the dining area. The table had been cleared off and she still sat drinking a cup of coffee. I went over to my bag searching for my phone. Once I find it, I see that I only have 5% battery, great. No missed calls from him, not even any messages. He already knew. I felt tears fill up in my eyes as I sit down defeated, what was the point of me trying to leave?

She sunk to her knees in front of me placing her hands on my thighs.

"Hey beautiful, your to pretty to be crying" she cooed wiping my tears.

I was to distorted to try to fight back or move away. There was no point anymore.

"How long?" I ask sniffling.

"How long for what?" She tilts her head like a confused puppy.

"A week give or take. Maybe forever if you let me in and let me be what he could never be" Her eyes shine bright in the sunlight that shone through the dining area window.

"You expect me let you in after a week? Especially after you just revealing all that to me." I scoff looking off in the view.

She shakes her head.

"No, I would want you to but I know it will be difficult to" Her thick Italian accent rasps through.

"Come on I want to show you something." She stands up holding out her hand.

I hesitantly take it. She walks me to an area of the house I had not seen. It was a very dull lit area, it had a very intricate library, a wooden desk and a nice rolling chair.

"It's not much but it's where I come when I can't think. When I need to get away from all this family business bullshit." She states as she runs her hands across her desk.

"You didn't choose it did you?" I ask inquisitively.

[seokiie]

𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚎 (𝙼)

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

+ 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.6𝘬

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

"Jagiyaa.."

"Hoseok, what is your issue?" Hoseok had you in a firm back hug, pulling your back flush against his chest. You were starting to get annoyed.

"My issue? You usually welcome me home when I get back from the studio but you were hiding off in our room today. What's wrong?" He whines in your ear and you groan.

"You just-" You cut yourself off knowing you sound a little more hostile than you should. "It's just that you come home so late nowadays. And- and I know its comeback season but... I don't see you anymore." It feels dumb complaining about these things because you know Hoseok really can't control it.

The room falls silent and Hoseok loosens his arms around you. You turn around and sit on your shared bed waiting for his response.

"I didn't know you felt that way." Hoseok crosses his arms, face contorted in thought. "Now that I look back, I do get home later than a usual husband should... Will you forgive me if I come home sooner?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for your approval.

One of the things you love most about Hoseok is that he's such an easy person to negotiate with, but even now you didn't expect him to comply so easily. Your shock must show on your face because suddenly he's laughing and stepping forward.

"Jagi, I hate when you're mad at me... It makes me sad." Your eyes follow Hoseok's as he crawls on top of you, gently pushing you back from your sitting position till your back hits the bed.

"Well, I don't want you to be sad..." You watch something darker cloud Hoseok's eyes as you let one of your hands wrap themselves in the hair at his nape.

"You know what would make me so happy right now?" As soon as those words leave Hoseok's mouth and a little smirk forms on his face, you're leaning up and pressing your lips to his.

You know you shouldn't give into Hoseoks sneaky tactics to win you over, but you haven't touched him or felt his body against yours in so long. Honestly, you deserve this.

Quickly, you're reminded of how soft Hoseok's lips are and you can feel the way he smirks when you let out a quiet moan.

"Oh, I really have missed you." He pulls back and carefully rubs a thumb over your cheek, a mix of love and lust in his eyes. Despite being with him for all these years, the gesture still manages to get you all flustered.

"I've just been working on this choreography... and I forgot how good you taste." Hoseok's lips are on yours again before you can say anything, one of his hands moving down to the hem of your shirt.

"Ah, wait- wait."  When Hoseok feels your hand wrap around his wrist, his motion stops almost immediately. He gives you a confused look.

"We don't- you don't have to... I can keep my shirt on.." Way to sound natural, y/n. Hoseok knew you were still a bit insecure about your body, and he always wondered why. In your opinion, you were too skinny, your boobs were too small, and you didn't have the curves your friends had. Sometimes, you really wondered why Hoseok would want to be with you instead of someone with a way hotter body.

In Hoseok's opinion, your body was perfect, designed especially for him. He loved the feeling of pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around your small frame. Don't get him started on your chest. He could write a 12-page essay on how much he loved your chest. One page would be dedicated to how sensitive they were and how much he loved having his mouth on them.

"Y/n-ahh, you know how much I love your boobs. Please don't hide from me..." Hoseok's eyes soften and your grip on his wrist softens too.

At that, Hoseok makes quick work of your shirt and tosses it across the room. You keen as his hands wander up the expanse of your body before stopping at your chest. Part of you finds it hot the way his big hands completely cover your chest and Hoseok knows this.

"Your... your pants." He was so focused on you that he forgot about himself. Fortunately, when he looks down, you're already unzipping his uncomfortable skinny jeans and shimmying them down his thighs. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his thickening hardness in his boxers.

"Aishh, it feels like you only want me for my dick, hm?" Hoseok watches as your eyes are trained on his clothed length. When he twitches, you can't help letting out a moan.

"Hobi..." Hoseok didn't mind the use of his nickname. Matter of fact, he'd love it in any other scenario. But right now, you underneath him thirsting, practically begging with your eyes for his cock. That nickname just seemed far too innocent for what was about to happen.

Hoseok presses his lips to yours, cutting off whatever you were gonna say and flipping you over so he was now the one on the bottom.

"You want to do it like this?" Your words come out as more of a breathy gasp because suddenly, this new position had your core pressing directly into Hoseok's throbbing length.

"Mmh, fuck yes. Just like this." Hoseok shuts his eyes tightly, his nails almost digging into your waist as he struggled not to grind against your heat.

You raise yourself a bit to slowly slide his boxers down. You can feel the way you gush at the sight of his cock springing free, dripping with precum as if excited to see you.

Hoseok knew how much you loved this position, how much you loved riding him. Knowing he hasn't been the ideal husband lately, he really wants to give you everything he can.

"God, I've missed you." Hoseok watches, eyes dark and heavy as you slide your panties to the side (too lazy and hurried to take them off) and situate yourself above his cock.

"I've missed you t- mmh..." You cut yourself off with a moan as you slowly lower yourself onto his length. The feeling of him stretching you open and his cock throbbing inside you is what you can only describe as euphoric.

Hoseok loves it. He loves the way your body trembles with pleasure as you take more and more of his cock till you're fully seated on him. He loves the way your hips twitch as you try to get used to the stretch. Most importantly he loves you.

"You're- you're so tight. I'm- have you touched yourself these past few weeks?" Hoseok combs a hand through his damp hair and you really can't help admiring how good he looks with his forehead exposed, face almost completely fucked out.

"Only to the thought of you." You start to pick up your pace, slowly raising and lowering yourself into him. Your hands, looking for anything to hold onto, knead at his toned stomach.

"You think of me?" Ok, yeah. That was an obvious question and Hoseok would've definitely mentally facepalmed himself if he wasn't... in the middle of something. Who else would you even think of?

"Only you. I only think of you, Hobi." Hoseok will definitely need to talk to you about your use of his nickname in the bedroom because it was doing a lot of things to him.

As your pace starts to get faster and needier, Hoseok notices how tired you're getting, your moans turning into breathless gasps. His hands grip your waist, supporting your weight. He starts to thrust into you as he brings your hips down and it has him going even deeper than before.

"Feels also amazing. You're so beautiful, jagi." Hoseok lets his head fall back onto the pillow before bringing his hand to the nape of your neck and pulling you in for a short-winded kiss. Well, it's less of a kiss and more of the two of you moaning into each other's mouth.

Hoseok knows by the way your hips stutter and how your walls tighten around him that you're close. It's almost surprising because you don't usually come that quickly.

"Ah, I love it. I love you, Hoseok-" Your moans of his name are like music to his ears and he finds himself on the edge of his own peak.

"Fuck, I love you, too." Hoseok fucks you through your orgasm, your lips staying on his until you pull away to breathe. Even then, he admires the pretty face you make as you come down from your high.

"Ah, gonna come... I'm gonna-" Hoseok thrusts inside you a few more times before he's finishing, pumping every drop of himself inside you with lazy strokes.

Even though he's starting to go limp, he stays inside you. Eyes glazed over in bliss meet yours and a goofy smile spreads across your face. One of Hoseok's favorite things is seeing you happy; nothing makes his heart ache more than coming home to you frowning.

When you climb off of Hoseok (aka your personal seat), you consider heading straight to the bathroom and cleaning up so there's no sticky mess in the morning. Instead, you find yourself curling into your husband's body.

"You're not mad anymore?" Hoseok laughs and lets a comforting hand draw slow circles into your back. You simply laugh in response.

"Don't push it, Seokie." It doesn't take long for you to drift off into slumber and Hoseok follows suit. It's nice having you back.

(Even if he never lost you)

*unedited*

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Only Mine (Pt. 6)

A/N: We’re using Taylor songs again because we love Queen Taylor. So these are not my works (obviously) but hers. However if you’ve never heard some of these I would highly suggest you check them out because all Taylor songs are absolute bops. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Pop Star!Reader Word count: 3,541 Warnings: Swearing, implied sex (no smut though), arguing (minor)

You found the release of Fractious to be the most ironic days of your life.

You were in the media everywhere, selling only a few thousands copies less in it’s first week than your previous record. Which you were fine with, that was somewhat of the plan.

But you were no where to be seen. Hiding out in a new house you and Gerard had bought New Jersey for just under three million dollars. But no one knew about that purchase, other than your closest family and friends. Because no one needed to know.

The suspense of it all started extremely high, as you only announced the album 12 hours prior to its drop. And the world went insane, fans jumping to Twitter to go absolutely crazy over this new persona that they had already began to love, and some had already caught onto the ‘good girl gone bad’ idea.

You released the entire tracklist only three hours before the drop, and you were already stalking fan pages who began making theories about what it meant. There were already a lot of ‘THIS ONE’S ABOUTE GERARD’ and theories already popping up about him, which made you lightly smile knowing damn well a lot of it was.

The tracklist read: Blank Space I Knew You Were Trouble Style End Game I Did Something Bad I Know Places Out Of The Woods Dancing With Our Hands Tied Don’t Blame Me Getaway Car Clean

You smiled and lightly laughed once you refreshed your phone on the couch, your face and name at the top of iTunes and various other music providers promoting your new album.

“Congrats babe.” Gerard said from where he sat next to you, giving you a kiss and squeezing your thigh, “I’m proud of you.” “Thanks Gee.” You leaned your head onto his shoulder, “I love you. So much.” “I love you more.” He smiled down.

What made it all the better was how MCR was entering into their punk era, only making your album and new persona more believable. You had to admit, Gerard’s red and shaggy hair was really hot, and you were living for it, as you had told him a million times.

And you knew how much he loved your new era. As much as he genuinely loved the real, bubbly you (which is of course why he married you) he continuously admired your new all black look, managing to wear skin tight jeans and short shorts with more crop tops than usual and leather jackets galore. And you can’t forget how many pairs of Doc Martins you had, plus Louboutin boots all for the red bottoms. You basically looked like a filthy rich home wrecker, AKA the look you were going for.

But at home and in private you were the same old Y/N, always letting your natural hair fall into its regular ways, with little to no makeup and not ashamed to wear whatever you wanted.

What seemed to put the cherry on top to this new era was the newest addition to your family, AKA a black french bulldog named Rocko the two of you got. He was a tornado of chaos who would run around the house with his dozens of toys, taunting you and Gerard with them as if to show some form of superiority that he clearly lacked. You treated him like he was a newborn baby, constantly. You bought him clothes, beds, and toys, letting him sleep with you and Gerard despite your husbands protests about how he “took up too much room”. To you, the little canine could do nothing wrong.

That was until he chewed up your favorite pair of shoes, which just oh so happened to cost multiple hundreds of dollars. Gerard was furious at his actions, complaining that there was no reason for him to do so with the countless amount of toys he already had. You were mad at first too, but after only a few seconds of the pup giving you his eyes of sympathy you forgave him and moved on as if nothing happened. Gerard was still in his state of anger though.

“Oh, look, the designs for the tour outfits came in.” You smiled from where you laid on the couch, checking emails on your laptop, Rocko at your feet sitting between you and Gerard who was reading a book. You opened up the file to be greeted with all dozen outfits, which were beyond perfect. Gerard looked over, interested in the topic. “I like that one.” You pointed to one especially scandalous duo of tiny shorts and an even smaller top that could have been easily mistaken for a bra if it wasn’t for the thicker material on the all black set with black tights. “It makes me look like a whore.” Gerard nearly spat out his coffee.

“But you’re not a whore.” “Yeah, well, my alter ego is.” You smiled. “And you made her that way.” You looked up at him from quickly, “Take that as a compliment.” “How is me turning my wife into a whore a compliment?” He asked, puzzled.

“Just take it as one.” You huffed.

“I do think you’ll look bad ass in it though,” He remarked, returning to his book.

“Awww, thanks babe.” You blushed, “Maybe I’ll ask them to make you a matching outfit.” You lightly laughed. “Haha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes.

“It sucks we’ll be touring at the same time.” You sighed, “I miss being able to see you and the guys more.” “Yeah I miss you too,” He sighed as well, “And Ray does too.” You lightly laughed.

“Ray’s coming to the first show, right?” You asked, looking up at Gerard. He nodded.

“He cleared all of his schedule to go and he’s pumped.” You smiled.

“Good.” You closed your laptop, climbing over to give Gerard a kiss, which he happily accepted and did the same back. “Somedays I wish you kissed me the way as you do Frank.” You lightly smiled, letting go as he chuckled.

“I mean, I could.” He smiled at you, running his hands through your hair, “But that’s more aggressive and in the moment. I prefer to savor the kisses I have with you, let you know how much I love you.” You smiled, lightly rolling your eyes.

“You’re so sappy sometimes, Gee.” You responded, “But I love it.”

That night, as you were going to bed, you stopped in your mirror momentarily to take a look at yourself. You had gained 25-ish pounds since your break from the spotlight, still recovering from your ED. Your doctor said that you were healthy now, but some of the fatrolls that fell on your sides and hip dips as well were starting to bother you. And your stomach still had that bit of blub that you were never very fond of.

Gerard walked past you in the bathroom, immediately getting the memo. “Am I too fat?” You turned around and asked him, his face turning to a form of ridicule.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He said looking you up and down, “So no.”

“Are you sure Gee-” Before you could finish, he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to bed where he pushed you down with ease beneath him, giving you a searing kiss.

“You’re fucking gorgeous and the most beautiful woman alive. If you say one more thing about you not being perfect I’m going to frame every photo of you in every inch of this damn house so you know just how incredible you are.” “Fine.” You sighed reluctantly. “Now say it with me,” He began, “I, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N-Way am perfect.” You sighed, choosing to go with it.

“I, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N-Way am perfect.” “Good girl.” He said with another quick kiss. You lightly laughed, rolling over to your side of the bed to give Gerard his. You took your hand, running your fingers through his messy hair as the two of you stared at each other.

“After these two tours, I think I want to take a break.” You admitted, saying so above a whisper. He lightly nodded. “Maybe we can start a family.” He nodded again. “And settle down.” He gave you a kiss on the nose.

“That sounds perfect.”

-Time skip because I’m lAzY-

You were on stage doing what you do best, simultaneously swaying your hips to the music and going along with some of the choreography, as if the skin tight black and sparkly body suit and above the knee black boots weren’t enough.

As usual, you would look over to your husband where he was in the VIP section and sing to him, a smile plastered on his face. You would occasionally look over to see both the approval of your family, and friends, including Ray who seemed to be having the time of his life dancing and singing the lyrics.

The show was going absolutely perfect, it was bigger than any other that you had ever done, a larger stage, larger screens, larger everything. Even a larger crowd with over 100,000 people for your first show on tour. You could hear the audience echo your lyrics, jumping up and down judging by the movements of their light up wrist bands.

You of course played a few songs off of your previous album, doing a few acoustic with just you and the crowd which were some of your favorite experiences and moments. You also did a quick speech thanking all of your loyal fans who waited for you to come back with new music, despite the long period of time where you were no where to be seen.

After the finale, you ran back with a huge smile still on your face with your team, drinking some water constantly to hydrate yourself. It only took you a few moments in the back hallways of the stadium before you saw your husband at one end, smiling at you. You smiled back, running up to him and clinging your arms around him. He hugged you back, giving you a quick kiss. “You did great.” He whispered with a huge smiled, “I’m so proud.” “Thanks.” You smiled back, giving him another kiss. The two of you walked away, arms around each other as you leaned onto him. You tried to keep PDA to a limit, especially since the documentary was actively being made and was recording everything.

Once you were back in your private dressing room where no one else was, he gave you an even bigger hug, swinging you around and you lightly squealed. “You’re just so good.” He laughed.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, letting go to go and take off your makeup at the chair. “I just gotta meet a few fans then we can go back to the hotel.” You told him through the mirror and he nodded.

“Y/N?” You heard your assistant knock at the door. “Hey, Betty.” You smiled up at her and she smiled back.

“I assumed you would want Rocky with you.” She said, putting the small black dog and he ran up to your chair.

“Ah yes,” You smiled down at him, picking him up and giving him a bunch of kisses on his little face, “Thank you.” You told her and she nodded, “No problem.” She closed the door back. You held the small dog in your lap, finishing off your face and hair before getting up and putting him down to change into regular clothes from your stage outfit.

“Gee?” You asked and he hummed, looking up from his phone, “Could you unzip me?” You asked and he nodded, getting up to do so. Usually Gerard would pull something after that, making it less PG, but you shot him a quick glare warning him not to do anything, so he didn’t.

You quickly replaced your stage clothes with a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, turning around to see Gerard still staring at you, wide eyes. “Oh please,” you sighed at him, “We’ve been together for over eight years Gee, handle yourself.” “Sorry, it’s just really hard to.” He tried to defend himself, you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll be back soon, babe.” You smiled, giving him a peck on the lips before excusing yourself.

The meet and greet went by as always, taking about half an hour before you said bye to everyone, taking photos, and then went back to Gerard. He was still on his phone on one of the couches in the room, Rocko by his feet. “Ready to go?” He asked, looking up, and you nodded grabbing your phone and backpack.

On the way out you couldn’t stop smiling, hand in hand with Gerard going in one of the large black SUVs, you going in first, then Rocko, then Gerard. “How’re you feeling?” Your husband asked and you just smiled.

“Great,” You admitted, taking a sip from your water, “Everyone loved it.” He gave your thigh a squeeze and looked at you.

“It was definitely pretty bad ass.” He smiled and you lightly laughed.

You had walked into your suite, setting your bag and the dog down, placing him in his bed (in the living room part of the room) while Gerard grabbed him a bowl of water. You gave the dog a quick good night kiss, resorting to your own room where Gerard followed, closing the door behind you.

Almost immediately your lips were clashed together, his hands on your waist as he swiftly put you on the large plush duvet of the bed, moving down to your collarbone and neck.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked for only a brief moment, as a double check. You shook your head violently.

“No,” You sighed out, “Please no.” He smiled down at you connecting your lips against. “Whatever you want, sugar.”

-Another time skip-

You wouldn’t have ever known if it wasn’t for the insane amount of fatigue and throwing up you were going through, only a month into tour. Initially you could’ve sworn it was just a cold turned to maybe the flu, as many of the symptoms you were having would go away within a few hours, so you were ready for show time.

But here you sat in your hotel room, curled up on the bed with Rocko next to you, your mind completely empty as you stared into the thin air, Betty had run to the nearest pharmacy. What were you going to do on tour? Fans would figure it out easily. But what would you tell Gerard?

Once Betty came back she gave you a somber, almost apologetic smile handing your the small bag. You thanked her, closing the door and going into the bathroom.

You stood over the bathroom sink, your hands gripping the granite edges for dear life as you stared down at the three tests. All positive. It took you a few minutes of staring, rocking back and forth, for everything to sink in.

This was not how you planned it, it was never supposed to go like this. You and Gerard were going to take a break, settle down, have your first child and be together all through your pregnancy. Now you were both on huge tours promoting your new work, away from home for at least the next five months. 

You could feel warm tears stream down your cheeks, a small sniffle coming from your nose as you grabbed your phone. Reluctantly, you pressed on your husband’s name, pressing the small phone icon displayed underneath it. You put your face up to the screen slowly. Only a few rings and he answered.

“Hey Y/N/N,” He said, “What’s up.” It took you a few seconds, but you immediately bursted into sobs. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He spoke up, voice with lots of concern.

“Gee,” You began, sniffing again through the sobs, “I’m um- I’m pregnant.” You said. No one spoke for the next few seconds, complete silence on both ends of the line.

“Sweetie,” He said in a light voice, a small laugh following afterwards, “That’s great!” “No, Gerard, it isn’t.” You snapped, “We had all of this planned out perfectly, no one was going to know unless we wanted them to. But no, in the beginning of a fucking world tour this has to happen.” You raised your voice, “And I get it, this is gonna be a fucking walk in the park for you because you’re not here, and you don’t have to play in front of over 50,000 people every night in body tight suits. And you’re going to be separated from your pregnant wife. Life’s probably fucking perfect for you.” You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, but whatever it was it wasn’t pretty.

“What?” He asked, “You say it like we never wanted this. Sometimes things don’t go to plan Y/N.” He snapped back.

“Well they have to in our world Gerard!” You yelled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, “We have our lives set out for the next six months. And this is a big deal, and something we can’t do right now.”

“So are you going to get an abortion? Are you going to put it into the adoption system?” He yelled back. You took a few moments to think.

“No.” You admitted, barely above a whisper, “Gee, I’m sorry.” You began sobbing again, your sad feeling taking over any angry one.

“No, sugar, I am.” He clarified with a sigh, “You’re going through a lot and I should be supporting you, not arguing.” “Well I kinda started it.” “And I shouldn’t have continued it.” He responded. “Honey, we’ll figure this out.” He insisted, “We’ll talk to your tour manager and everyone who needs to know, we’ll figure something out. Some way to hide it.” “Okay.” You said somberly.

“Give me a few minutes,” He said, “I’m going to figure out a way to get to you.” “Gee, you’re booked for the next fews months on tour.” “And so are you, but you’re also carrying our child right now.” He spoke back, “We’re going to figure it out, okay? We’re going to have a kid, and start a family, maybe a little off track from what we intended, but this is what we’ve wanted, right?” You nodded despite him not seeing you.

“Yeah, of course.” You calmed down. “This is what we’ve wanted.”

It took a full week for a plan to be made. A week of unnecessary stress and anxiety for everyone on your team who was high enough on the roster to know about the pregnancy. Not even your families or friends knew, everything right now was business.

Gerard managed to fly in during a three day break the band had, consoling your emotions during the time as you two began to discuss personal plans. There was a lot of crying, both tears of sadness and joy, as you two began to discuss where you would live most of the time, which room the baby would take, how to even handle a child.

You already knew the baby’s name, which could go for either a boy or girl: Shiloh Monet Way. You were still very unsure about planning to have a baby, but since your tour would end when the third trimester began, you would have at least a few months to plan and figure out everything.

Gerard had already talked to the guys and their managers about pushing back some of the dates so there was a month break for him to be home around the baby’s due date. At the very least he wanted to be with you while giving birth, but he also wanted to help both you and the baby recover.

New outfits and plans to completely hide your pregnancy were already in the working with your teams. It was like a completely undercover operation to keep both you and your child’s privacy to a fine tune. And of course. Gerard and the guys promised to not say anything at all, even a hint towards you being pregnant wouldn’t be dropped.

“I say we wait to tell our families and friends,” You admitted to your husband, the two of you on the hotel bed getting ready to go to a sound check. “Just in case anything happens. I mean, we have to tell our teams and the guys and stuff, which we did, but no one else.” He nodded.

“Just not for too long,” He said, “Or at least once we know that baby’s developing fine.” You nodded and sighed.

“I was hoping having our first child together wouldn’t be this stressful.” You admitted, almost shamefully in a way.

“It’s okay, sugar.” He put his hand on your thigh and gave it a light squeeze. “We’re going to make the best of it, okay? You have a little less than five months left on your tour and then I get to take a break. This’ll work out just fine.” You nodded, placing your head on his shoulder as you knew he was right.

“You make everything better, Gee.” You said, playing with his hand as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’ll do it for you, sweetheart.”