#her actions to keep peace make her remarkable regardless

[daecaerys]

daenerys being spread as either the heroic figure of a song, the mother of dragons, the one who brought the red comet ---- blowing life into stone, the breaker of chains, mother. or daenerys the tyrant who crucified those who spoke against her, the cruel, the destroyer of astapor and yunkai. the lies spread by her enemies, yet when you ask her if she's done it she closes her eyes and says, i had to. your character not knowing what to believe until they meet her. daenerys, the silver queen, the last dragon. your character doesn't know who she is and honestly, sometimes neither does she. she only knows her heart, she knows she is not her father or brother, she knows her own kindness. she knows she wants peace. and she'll try to show as much to your muse, she will try to show she deserves it while hoping she's right.

[obxsummer]

Love Me or Leave Me // JJ Maybank

summary below the cut to avoid spoilers for s3 ep9

part of #obx3celebration

navigation 

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request: - hi babe! could i request  jj × carrera!reader where they kinda have that hate/love situation and instead of kiara is reader who is send it to Kitty Hawk and JJ go save her? with the prompt "why wouldn't i save you?"

warnings: angst hehehe, shitty parenting, mental illnesses, forced kidnapping bc the carrera parents suck :)

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For as long as you could remember, JJ Maybank hated you. 

That might be a little harsh, but it felt true. The two of you bickered like none other, your friends constantly over your short tempers and constant arguments. You weren’t sure why the two of you couldn’t just get along like everyone else, but you definitely weren’t gonna be the first one to make amends for something that wasn’t your fault. 

Kiara, on the other hand, would rip you a new one every time you and JJ got into it. You got it, he was one of her best friends and she hated to see the two of you arguing nonstop, but you weren’t gonna just quit so she could have her way. You and JJ had said some nasty shit to each other over the years and never once did she jump down his throat to get him to stop. So, you’d just continue this pattern until something changed. 

The Chateau burning down was not on your bingo board of events to survive, but here you were. Thankfully, everyone had managed to get out safely before the whole structure collapsed in on itself. 

“Could’ve been a faulty electrical wire.”

“Place was all wood. A tinderbox.”

“Thing just went up. Boom.”

You sat silently as everyone tried to think of an explanation for the cause of the fire to break the silence. You weren’t really sure what to say, especially to John B who just stared at the remains of his house sadly.

“Verdict’s in bro. Whoever’s up there does not like you.”

You scoffed at JJ’s words and gave him a sharp glare. “You’re really not helping, dude.” 

JJ rolled his eyes at your need to chastise him. “You got something better to say, princess?” His fingers ripped at the grass below him before he chucked a glass beer bottle into the smoldering flames.

“Enough,” Kiara’s whisper was harshly directed at you as she sat on your other side. You bit the sassy remark she surely deserved and got to your feet to stomp down the path to the dock since there was nothing left to say here.

You pulled yourself onto one of the wooden railings and put your back to the group, taking the moment to soak in the breeze and rumble of thunder somewhere beyond. You loved the Pogues deeply, considering them family above all else. It felt silly to think you were the odd man out, but it felt like that more than you’d like to admit. Maybe they only had room for JJ’s antics and having two of you was more than they could handle. You tried to let it go, not think so deeply on it, because at the end of the day, they were all you had. 

“Can you quit picking fights with him?” Your sister’s voice interrupted your moment of peace. You knew she’d come down here sooner or later, always having to repremand you for your actions.

“Can you bitch at him for once instead?” You snarked back, refusing to look at her and instead keeping your gaze on the storm clouds rolling in. 

Kie sighed and moved to sit next to you. At the end of the day, you were still her sister, no matter how much you drove her crazy. It’s not like either of you had the best guidance either. “I’m not trying to bitch at you, but you guys are both important to me and it’s hard to listen to you argue so much.”

You shook your head slightly and kept quiet. There was no use in trying to convince her of anything else, of maybe it being someone else’s fault for a change. You were exhausted of this constant strong exterior you held, but you refused to let it break now.

Kiara realized you weren’t going to talk and turned back around to where the rest of the Pogues were walking towards the two of you. Regardless of how you felt towards JJ, it all needed to be put aside so your group could focus on getting to South America to save Big John.

“Sarah, when did you say the pilot was getting in?” John B’s voice came from behind you as you realized they were all under the cover of the dock near you. 

“Probably like an hour?” Sarah guessed as she took a seat on the bench next to you. “I mean, once he’s here, my dad says we can leave whenever we want.”

“Okay, well, as much as I would love to ghost my parents again, I can’t.”

You could practically hear JJ’s inevitable protesting before it came. “Pope, we’re talking El Dorado here. Can you just slip out the back maybe?”

“I’m not doing that, okay?” Pope replied. You could hear his feet connect with the wood as he climbed down from his spot. “I’ll meet you at the airstrip in an hour?”

“One hour, Pope. Not a second later.”

Cleo’s voice faded out with Pope’s, leaving you to assume they left. If you had to guess, you and Kie should probably do the same. Your parents would flip their shit if you left unannounced again.

“I guess I’ll go pack some stuff and break the news to my parents.”

You turned at Kie’s plan and finally faced the remainder of the group. “I got it. They’re less likely to say no if just one of us goes to tell them. I’ll go.”

“Y/N, I’ll come with-”

“Nah, Kie. She said she’s got it. Let her go.” Your sister’s protests were cut off by none other than JJ, unsurprisingly. He was staring right back at you, probably hating the fact that you were coming in the first place. “I’m serious, Y/N. One hour or we’re leaving without you.”

You hopped down, ignoring Kiara’s concerned face as you gave JJ a brief glance. “Yeah, got it.”

There was a tone of defeat in your voice that made JJ’s heart clench. He knew he was tough on you, worse than he should’ve been. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he was like that. It’s just always felt like that’s how your relationship was supposed to be, but watching you walk away, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

The walk to your house passed in a blur of overthinking. You knew your parents weren’t going to say yes and this was going to be a disaster that you’d have to sneak out of. You’d do it for John B though, as long as it meant getting his dad back. 

You paused at the edge of the driveway to take in your house, debating what the hell you were going to say, as a car pulled up behind you. Usually, you wouldn’t think much of it, except the man who climbed out looked a little too comfortable with approaching you.

“Hey, Y/N. Hey, come back,” He called out as you started walking up the stairs to the door of your house. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”

You almost laughed at the statement. Out of all the things you could say when approaching someone, that was probably the most suspicious. “Uh, no thanks.” You stepped a little faster across the porch, mumbling about stranger danger under your breath before grabbing the door handle. The nerves kicked in when you realized it was locked. You started knocking aggressively. “Hey. Dad!”

The door clicked unlocked to reveal another man you didn’t know. You took a step back. “Who are you?”

“Look, this can go one of two ways.”

You glanced at his shirt, the logo on it sending you into panic mode as you realized what was happening. “No, no, no.” The next step back sent you into the first man’s chest, his hands quickly grabbing you. 

“I’m sorry, honey. We’re sending you away for a while.” Your mom’s figure appeared in the doorway, your dad hovering behind her. “They say that Kitty Hawk’s the best.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice cracked as the other man grabbed your left arm, both of them holding a little bit tighter than you’d like. “What the hell?”

“We just need to try this, okay? We’re just trying to help you and your sister.”

You closed your eyes, refusing to believe that your parents would actually put you through this. “Mom, Mom please!” 

You ignored your parents explanations, fighting against the hold they had on you. This was unforgivable. You’d never come home again, never see your friends or Kie. You screamed out, hoping someone somewhere would maybe hear you and come to help. 

All chances of that ended the second you were thrown into the backseat of a car and the door slammed shut. You refused to look at your parents, kicking aggressively at the window, the door, anything you could reach. The two men hopped in the front seats and started the car, driving away a second later, leaving all of your hope behind in the process.

-- 

Meanwhile, Kie, JJ, John B, and Sarah were waiting anxiously by the private jet. Pope, Cleo, and you hadn’t been seen or heard from and over an hour had past. JJ was getting angry, stressed out that your group was about to be separated once again. 

“Dude, where is everybody?” He tossed his backpack against the pavement in anger.

“I don’t know man!”

JJ threw his arm towards the Twinkie. “We should get in the Twinkie, and we should just get ‘em. That’s what we should do!” John B attempted to calm him down to no avail.

“Guys, there’s Pope and Cleo right there,” Kie interrupted their arguing as the duo turned to see their friends pulling up on Pope’s motorbike. 

“Were you guys waiting for us?” Cleo asked rhetorically, knowing exactly what was going on moments before.

JJ scooped his backpack off the ground aggressively. “Yes, we were. You’re late. Did you actually convince your pops this time or…”

Pope climbed off the bike and motioned to the girl behind him. “Cleo convinced him.”

JJ moved forward to high five the girl in question before doing their handshake. “My girl. That’s what I’m talking about! I thank you for being a part of my crew.”

Pope took a quick headcount and realized they were short one. “Hey, uh. Where’s Y/N?”

Everyone’s eyes landed on Kie who could only groan and cover her face in her hands. “It’s gotta be my parents. They’ve been up our ass ever since we got back.”

“Do you think they said she couldn’t come?” Sarah asked.

Kie shrugged, “I mean, maybe. But what’s the point in keeping her here if I’m going?”

“We’re gonna have to do this without her.”

To everyone’s surprise, it was JJ that declined Pope’s idea. “No,” He stated bluntly before turning to John B. “Give me the keys.”

“No, dude. No, no, no, no, no.”

JJ grabbed him by his shoulders. “Gimme the keys right now.”

John B shook his head and shrugged JJ’s hands off. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea now, JJ.”

“Look man,” JJ let out a deep sigh, his gaze flickering to the sky for a moment before he faced John B again. “Just give me an hour, please. It’ll be like a black ops mission, in and out. Surgical removal type shit. Plus, I kinda owe her.”

The smirk that formed on John B’s face was comical. He had a feeling as to why JJ was always so harsh with you, but this conversation confirmed everything he needed to know. 

“Stop making that face and gimme the keys,” JJ directed, trying his best to ignore the smile his best friend was making at him. 

“Okay, well. Yeah. You owe her, right? You owe her.”

JJ snatched the keys out of midair and took off towards the Twinkie, giving zero hesitation as he threw himself through the passenger window despite the protests behind him. 

“That door opens, bro!”

He couldn’t care less about their opinions and took off across the airstrip, his mind set on one thing. Getting you back.

--

The ride to the wilderness camp was uneventful. Your nerves refused to settle as the drive passed in a blur of trees and grassland before you pulled up to the entrance gate. The driver confirmed your presence to the guard before you were allowed through. On each side you could see campers gardening, mowing the lawn, or doing laundry. 

The two men led you out of the car and further into the grounds. Campers moved by, all of them in t-shirts or tank tops with the camp logo strewn across. You were met with a woman as you reached the end of the pathway. She directed you to follow to where her office was. A stack of clothing was shoved in your hands and a changing room pointed at for you to enter. 

You did so begrudgingly, replacing your clothing with the stiff t-shirt and cloth shorts. The woman was awaiting you upon your exit, motioning for you to sit across from her.

“Thank you, Y/N, for joining us and putting on our uniform.”

You folded your arms across your chest and leaned back into the cushion of the chair. “Like I had a choice.”

The woman was almost expecting your reaction. “Well, now, the good news is, we have a name for your condition. ODD. Opposition defiant disorder.”

“What is that?” Your voice was full of disgust at the idea of being diagnosed with their false beliefs. 

“It’s consistent opposition to authority.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did you just make that up? Sounds like bullshit to me.” You hadn’t even been here ten minutes and they think they know what you’ve been through? 

“As I was saying, consistent opposition,” The woman returned. “Now, fortunately, it’s very treatable with medication.”

You cut her off instantly. “I’m not taking medication.”

“See that, that right there? Your reaction. You just confirmed my diagnosis. Now, we can help with this.”

You groaned and pushed your fingers through your hair. “Your professional diagnosis,” You scoffed, “Right. Um. Do you mind if I use the restroom? Long drive.”

“Of course, right there.”

You followed the direction she was pointing in and walked into the small room. After you shut and locked the door, your feet were instantly on the counter to get up to the window. The handle squeaked as you cranked it, the window not moving in the slightest. Fists started pounding on the door behind you as you tried to shove the window open in a last ditch effort.

“No, no! Get off me!” You shouted as someone latched around your waist, tugging you backwards off the counter. Another set of hands joined on your arm, the two men pulling you from the cabin. “You people are crazy!”

You fought them the entire way through the grounds, kicking and shouting against them to make it clear that you didn’t want to be here. Eventually, they brought you up the steps of a cabin and shoved you inside before slamming the door. There wasn’t a soul to be found, just a few ratted sheets strews across the sets of bunk beds. 

Your back hit the wall, tears finally building in your eyes as you slid down to the ground. The sob was heavy in your chest, air fighting to get to your lungs at the thought of seriously having to fight through this alone. You’d been susceptible to crumbling when you’re left alone, having it happen many times growing up. That’s why you always found comfort in the Pogues, in people who would be there no matter what, no questions asked. This was probably what JJ always wanted, the Pogues on an adventure without him having to deal with you. 

You stared ahead at the scribbles on the wall; I feel so much better written back at you. God knows how wrong those words were to you.

--

The next few hours went by like paint drying on the wall. You tried to fall asleep, to escape for just a little bit. You couldn’t sleep on their shitty beds, your mind wandering to if your friends and sister were flying thousands of miles away above you. You wouldn’t blame them if they did, after all, JJ said only an hour and you were at least three behind by this point. 

You were startled when the front door was thrown open. “Y/N? Sweetie? Can you come out here?”

You shuffled off the bed to meet the woman and the guard she came with on the screened in patio. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but at Kitty Hawk we feel you have the strength to hear all the news, including bad news.”

“What happened?” Your question wasn’t meant to be rude, but your first thought went to your friends and the possibilities of what could’ve happened. You found it hard to believe your parents would feel the need to tell you if anything went wrong with them, knowing they’d probably be rejoicing. 

“Well, your cousin was here a minute ago.”

You frowned, not knowing who could’ve possibly stopped by. “Wait, what cousin?”

“A young man, blond. He asked me to tell you that Marley, well, he passed away.”

You tried not to look completely confused by her statement but knew it was slippin on your face anyway. “Like Bob Marley? Because-”

“No, your Siamese mix, Marley.”

You figured it would be better to feign shock than act completely clueless, at least buying time for whatever this was. The woman wrapped you in a hug as you let out faux sobs. “You know, I’m actually gonna need a little more time to process,” You choked out as you stepped out of her grip. 

She let you move back into the cabin, closing the door behind as you took a seat on the bottom bunk bed. You let out a deep breath, your heart starting to race at the idea of someone actually coming to rescue you. 

“Blond.” The word slipped out of your mouth quietly. No way in hell JJ would follow you here, especially with how adamant he was to leave on time. If anything, you figured Kiara would, but it was too big of a risk for her. Pope and Cleo were the only other possibility, but they didn’t have blond hair and John B and Sarah needed to get to his dad asap. 

JJ came back. For you. Despite all the shit you both put each other through nonstop, he came back.

Now all you had to do was get out. 

--

You busied yourself with the various books left in the cabin, all of them relating to obedience, ironically. You just had to wait it out until the night when you could hopefully get JJ’s attention somehow and get the hell out of here. 

You were surprised when the door opened again to reveal the woman who “diagnosed” you alongside another Kitty Hawk employee. 

“Y/N, we know you’re grieving and feel you’re best supported by your peers, so we’re going to relocate you.”

You were confused on how they ever got that you were supported that way, given that you haven’t told them shit. “I-I really feel like I need some more time to reflect.” You didn’t want to risk JJ not being able to find you here if he already knew. 

“No stalling. Come on. We’re putting you in a dorm. Cabin six, let’s go.” The worker grabbed the bag from the floor that your parents had supposedly packed for you. You stood up, realizing there was no room for argument and started to follow. There was a nagging feeling at your chest to at least do something, leave a hint for JJ somewhere.

“Hey, uh, just one sec!” You shouted to them before running back towards the room and grabbing the misplaced sharpie that was hidden in your bed. You quickly scrambled Cabin 6. P4L in big black letter amongst the other writing on the bed frames before darting out to follow them. 

Thunder continued to echo around you, the sky slowly turning dark with the lingering storm. Storms usually brought you so much comfort and you were hoping this one would be the same.

The girls all stared as you walked into the group cabin, each of them pausing in their actions at the sight of you.

“Girls, this is Y/N. She’s had some tough family news. Let’s show her some empathy and love, okay? Can we do that?”

Hushed whispers and odd looks followed the worker’s question. You nodded to yourself, realizing you were in a bit too far over your head and followed to where they set your bag on the top bunk. You huffed, climbing up onto the bed space and tried to avoid the intense eyes. 

As thunder cracked above, you could only hope JJ found your clue. 

--

The cabin succumbed to darkness not too long after, the storm finally raging against the wooden structure. You couldn’t sleep, mind too busy and it was fucking freezing despite the thin blanket they gave you. You wondered if this was it, if you were really stuck here for God knows how long, maybe forever. If Kiara and them got away, it was severely unlikely they were coming back. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame them. 

A few tears slipped out despite your best efforts to control them. You’d never been good with dealing with emotions, especially when you were left alone for so long. Like you’d said, this wasn’t the first time it happened and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. Usually Kiara came to dig you out of your self-dug hole, but she wasn’t here, and these girls were less than likely to let you talk it out. 

You tried really hard to keep everyone happy. That’s all you’d done your entire life, put everyone else ahead of you. JJ was the only person who refused to let you, even if it came in the form of bickering and attitudes against each other. He never once let you put yourself out on the line for him. Sure, he wouldn’t stop you from doing it for other people, but never him. 

The ugly realization that you’d been pushing away the one person you actually needed hit you like a train. JJ had always been there, you just never realized it. You always thought he was looking at someone else, ready to tell you off for just existing, but that wasn’t the case. He was just looking out for you and your feelings. Granted, it wasn’t the best way of doing it, but hey, that’s just JJ. 

A harsh whisper broke you out of your thoughts. You tried to think nothing of it, after all being in a cabin with 12 other girls made it hard to sleep in silence. Clearly, it was something off because a small light flicked on shortly after. 

“What are you doing in here?”

“Hi there. Uh, evening, miss. Uh, sorry. Sorry to bother y’all. Uh, shit. I know this looks bad but I come in peace. But I’m just looking for someone. I’m looking, looking for-”

You sat up at the too familiar voice, your eyes instantly catching the silhouette you’ve been waiting for. “Me.”

The girls whispered around you as you climbed out of the bunk, still clad in your jean shorts and the ugly Kitty Hawk hoodie they’d given you. JJ was staring right at you, a bandana around his neck in an attempt to keep from wandering eyes, his chest heaving at the success of finding you. 

You didn’t fight the feeling anymore, instead running straight into him for a hug. He was ready, holding you closer to him than he ever had before. You tried to hold the tears in your eyes as you pulled back. “How did…how?”

“I know, okay. It’s a long story. No time to explain though. I.. wait, one thing though.” You’d never seen him so nervous in all your years of knowing him. “I know I’ve been a dick to you, for so long, a-and I just… Y/N, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

You stared at him with glazed eyes and forced a smile at him. “I love you.”

JJ didn’t seem as shocked as you expected him too. It was almost as if you took the words right out of his mouth. “I love you too.”

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, JJ’s lips were on yours. You held his cheeks lightly, basking in the moment of his hands on your back, holding you close. Abrupt cheering rang out around you, clapping following it as the girls watched the two of you have your moment. 

“Whoa, hey! Keep it down, keep it down. Guys, come on, sh!” JJ attempted to get their attention after you two broke apart. You separated from him to grab your bag from the floor before grabbing his hand and running out the door. 

“To the right! Go, go, go!” He directed the second you were off the stairs. “Can’t really go through the front gate.” He glanced back to make sure you were following him only to see you smiling at him. JJ didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but he was so glad that it was. 

“I didn’t think anyone was gonna come back for me!” You admitted as the two of you finally made it past the main gate entrance. 

JJ flashed you a smile as he continued to run. “You gotta have more faith in me.”

You tugged him to a stop just before the path you were on hit the road. This felt like one of those now or never situations, something you had to do in the moment or you’d never had the confidence again. “Jayj. Thank you, for saving me.”

“Why wouldn’t I save you?” He moved closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. He was full of adrenaline from your kiss, the taste of your chapstick still lingering on his tastebuds. “Don’t you ever think I wouldn’t come back for you again, you hear? You’re my girl. I’d never leave you behind.”

--

navigation 

[nightingalestarchaser]

● Aviditas

Pairings: Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warnings: Yet more terrible rich people doing terrible things, mentions of blood, lust and all that stuff.

A/N: Back in my dream house, playing with these beautiful dolls. Nothing is real, words are a construct. I hope you enjoy, feedback is so appreciated ♡

She will not look. 

It drives him crazy, and she enjoys it.

Every detail of her attire for the evening has been chosen purposely, carefully. The dress that exposes her shoulders, reveals just enough cleavage to be alluring and keep her virtuous reputation intact. The way her hair has been elegantly braided back into a bun, with enough left loose to cascade down her back.

She looks elegant, beautiful, graceful and sophisticated. Everything she is supposed to be. And yet she knows that the eyes on her do not see her as those virtues alone.

Especially his eyes.

She feels his gaze burning her skin, searing into her. He sees her to be as beautiful and graceful as everyone else does, but he also sees her as a woman. A desirable, alluring, enticing and enchanting woman. The woman he wants as his own, in his bed or on the dining table in front of everyone gathered, it matters little.

She keeps her head held high, a smile on her lips as she glides across the floor. The men at the table stand for her, watch her approach the seat a servant is pulling out for her.

It's quite sweet how desperate he is for her to see him, she thinks. Such a little puppy, needy for attention. She thanks the servant as they ease her chair forward, keeping her attention elsewhere. 

The men sit, conversation begins to flow freely and she still does not look in his direction. Her body is warm under his gaze, she basks in his attention without acknowledgement.

It will be worth it when she does look, and she wants to make it worth her while. Once she looks at him, smiling, scowling, screaming, she will be gone from the table. She will be racing down halls, her skirts bundled up in her hand, the other clutching his. They will not stop until they are alone. 

She will tell herself that she will stick to her well laid plans.

She will tease him, make him more desperate than he has ever been, begging for her.

She will have him at her mercy, feel the heat of his desire poring into her body.

She tells herself that is when she will walk away, leave him desperate and alone.

Some lies serve to make the truth even sweeter.

But alas, there is good food, excellent wine and fine company to be enjoyed first, so she will prolong his suffering yet, to extend their imminent ecstasy.

It was not always such, that he would gaze longingly at her while she could focus her gaze elsewhere to tease him. She had grown into the power he had given her, he had yet to grow into the power given to him by blood.

He didn't need to grow, to evolve. Power would be his, the crown would be his, history would record his name regardless of his growth or ability. Why would he change himself when it was not necessary?

Gods, his casual, lazy arrogance infuriated her at times. Could one even be nominated as arrogant without an understanding of their privilege?

It was all so easy for him, as it had always been. From the day he entered the world, his path was clear. A smooth road leading him along a blessed and peaceful life. There was little consequence for his actions, from what she had seen, so why wouldn't he test the boundaries?

That seemed to be his childhood, seeing how far he could stretch one's limits. She had harbored a youthful crush for many years, intrigued as she was by a prince with infinite freedom, who could do as he so pleased.

He never seemed to notice her, unless it was to make some brattish remark, pull her hair, or tease her. She was nothing to him then, just a small, plain girl who barely existed in his orbit. And still she kept the crush, even when she questioned herself for it. 

He grew up to be even more of a spoilt brat, and while at times he repulsed her, she never ceased to be drawn to him, to crave just an ounce of his attention. He possessed a confidence that was foreign to her, an air of arrogance and greed surrounded him, but she saw the moments where he could be more. The quiet, rare moments where he would make his brother laugh, or wrap his arm around his sister, devote the time to listen to her.

At 13, she was sent away, a girl still. Her father had promised her to the son of a wealthy Lord, and she was to spend time in her new home. 

There were worse places to be than Highgarden, particularly in the warmth of summer. Her new surroundings were beautiful, peaceful, and delicate. The people around her were even more beautiful. She felt like a weed planted among roses. 

Her first weeks in the Reach were achingly lonely, she found herself longing for life in the capital, in the keep. She had been given a maid, who, while being polite and obedient and friendly, was ultimately older than her by several years, and did not seem to care for more than her staunchly required duties.

Her betrothed would occasionally take her for walks in the labyrinth surrounding the castle, which she found enjoyable if only as a means to pass time. He was a boy in the process of becoming a man just as she was a girl in the process of becoming a woman. They had perfectly pleasant conversations, though nothing that couldn't also be spoken of with any commoner on the street.

She thought of home often, thought of writing, but knew she had nothing of note to say. He wouldn't have read it anyway.

Several weeks after she first arrived, her first blood arrived in the night. She felt embarrassed to watch her maid uncover it, sitting by the window and looking away. 

Word of the event clearly spread, as later that day the sister of her betrothed appeared at her door, a smile and an arm offered to her.

She was a rose in bloom, her future sister-in-law told her. And a rose must be tended to carefully to allow full blossom.

A girl she could no longer be, certain traits were to be taken, but the cloak of girlhood was shed. From that day, her training began.

How to walk, stand, carry herself. How to speak, when to speak, to whom, and what to speak about. What to wear, what to reveal, what to hide, what to tease.  

She was not just to be another lovely flower in the garden, she was to be the rose desired to be taken and tended to.

It all seemed to be too much, lacking any real sense of purpose. What was all the work, effort, and pain for if she was only to sit in beautiful gardens sipping tea and discussing tedious affairs with beautiful, vacant roses? It felt as though there was no reward for the work of the transformation.

 

Until the garden was opened to admirers.

She had attended many grand events in her time, the swell of a gathered crowd was not so unusual to her. But a grand event in Highgarden was not as one would have been back home.

There was much more of an emphasis on beauty, that was what she noticed first. The most exquisite, bright, beautiful flowers covered every surface, lighting up the room and giving it a soft, romantic feel. There were flower petals scattered around wine glasses, sprinkled on plates of food that were more of a work of art than something edible.

Though it was not enough just to have free flowing wine, and mountains of food, everything was considered carefully. The wine perfectly complimented each course of food, poured at the perfect time. There was little chance of hunger, the food was served in abundance, though with purpose. It was not just to display wealth, it was not just to pile meat on tables endlessly, to indulge in gluttony.

Dishes were served, removed, and replaced with something even more beautiful and delicious. Everything was presented carefully, beauty gracing each dish. 

Music was a constant, with harps and delicate melodies replacing the lutes and singing she had known. With the music came dancing, endless dancing that she could have watched for hours. Beautiful people moving in perfect unison, skirts swishing the floor, bodies twirling together.

As it transpired, the food, wine, music and dancing were secondary to that which seemed to matter above all. 

Roses.

Whispers of who was the most beautiful, the most graceful, the most desirable. She never expected that her name would be among those most whispered about.

No longer was she the plain little girl who teased or ignored.

She had bloomed into a woman of note, at such an age that allowed more time for growth, for use. It frightened and exhilarated her at once, this newfound attention.

These men would not tease her, pull her hair, or push her over. They would approach her gladly, kiss her hand, and admire her beauty. 

She tested the limits of her newfound powers, brazen with confidence and overwhelmed with vulnerability. She could say no to the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, only to have an even more beautiful man approach her, ask for her hand in a dance.

In those moments she thought of home, of him. Would he look upon her differently now? Would he still tease her and cast her aside? She felt a thrill when she thought of him seeing her as the woman she had become, and getting her chance to ignore him, cast him aside like he had never meant anything to her.

The only man who seemed disaffected by her transformation was her betrothed. He was not callous, or cruel, rather..indifferent. He was perfectly polite, kind, considered, a gentleman. He did not look at her the way other men did, she had learned what it was to have a man's desire and she did not have the desire of her betrothed. 

It was not his fault, nor hers for feeling no desire for him. They were not a suitable match, they could never truly bring one another happiness or their houses a true line. 

That was not to say she was satisfied with the arrangement. Part of her training had been to learn the art of seduction - how to seduce, and how to be seduced. How it was to feel truly satisfied, and how to make it appear so she was truly satisfied, such falsehoods could be required. And would be required, for the duration of her married life.

She knew how it felt to have a man look at her with desire. She knew how it felt to have her back arch, her body write under her own touch. While she had not yet had the two connect, she was not willing to go without it. It would be cruel to deny herself, and her betrothed what they both wanted. 

She refused to be a rose waiting in the garden for someone to choose her. She chose herself, and she knew what she wanted.

It was quite the scandal. Tragic, but not above whispers. A widow before she could even gain the title. Her betrothed killed not three days before their wedding. It had been a celebratory hunting trip, his last chance for some freedom before undertaking his duties. How she had cried when she was woken in the night, desperately clutching at her maid's arms, begging for it to be a vicious lie.

She was comforted by his family, mourned as the daughter they would not gain. His brother would gain a title, his sisters would gain pity, she would gain her freedom.

Sacrifices were part of life.

Arriving back in the capital was like waking from a vivid dream, coming back to reality. A reality she was more prepared than ever to face.

Gone was the girl, here was the woman.

A woman with desires, with needs, with purpose. And she knew exactly how to claim all of them.

[yearningaces]

I’m sorry-the little boy was killed by drowning when he was TWO?? Who did it? I want names, age, address….and possibly a weapon of mass destruction to wipe them off the face of the planet…

In the spirit(heh) of answering this how I've been answering, I'm gonna have the singing lady answer, because she sort of adopted the little boy.

I'm gonna add the warnings above the cut since we're describing what happened to him.

Tw: Drowning, child death, non graphic death, mentions of parental abuse

~

Watching the ghost of such a small child was always a bittersweet thing. But it would seem he's found some peace, toddling around the house, getting into mischief without the risk of harm ever present.

You'd even brought a child's wooden toy train set for him to play with in the room where you hear him run around the most.

Once you'd made nice with the singing lady, the little boy even seemed more comfortable, no longer hiding from your sight, you'd see him dashing across halls and rooms, laughing and playing, sometimes singing with the lady as well.

At the moment, the three of you were sat in his self claimed bedroom.

He was happily playing with his new train, rolling it across the wooden floor and making noises as if vocalizing the train's imaginary engine.

"he's so... Young." You finally remark, looking over to the singing woman who was seated near you. The dark night making the ghost seemingly glow a faint blue hue to them both.

"I know... Poor dear, it always hurt my heart to see him when I was alive." She sighs, an action more out of habit than need. After a moment, her gaze turns to you. Her skull visible yet her actual face somewhat visible on top of that. "But now that I am of the same fate, I can understand he is happy here. Away from his father, having gained a mother. And he can run and play and explore, without worry, or fear, or harm ever befalling him again."

You sit in silence for some time before you ask the question far quieter now. Peering the little boy's appearance. Just as blue tinted as the singing woman, but without the strangulation marks around the neck. Instead, his appearance is always slightly damp...

"How did he...?" Your voice trails off, uncertain to even ask.

The singing woman seems to understand exactly what you mean, however. And her permanently peaceful or quiet voice for the first time sounds firm, agitated at best. "From what he's told me... His father gave him a bath, and when he came out of the water again, it was dark, the room was empty, and no one was in the house but himself. His father drowned him, and it might be for the best that even he doesn't understand."

You have to bite your tongue, not wanting to lash out or grow too angry as the same little boy is playing happily just a few feet away.

"why?" You hiss almost silently, trying to keep your rage in check but still angered on behalf of the ghostly little boy.

The singing woman matches your rage, but composes herself far better than you can- no doubt through practice. "From what I've come to understand, his mother left long before he remembers. I don't know if she passed on or simply left them, but his father was not a kind man. Perhaps it was a fit of rage, the malice of a horrid man left unchecked. Regardless, the boy doesn't realize how terrible it is. And we will not demand answers from him and force him to remember and relive it all." She's absolute in her tone, not budging.

You nod quietly. "Suppose that means we help him enjoy his afterlife?"

At that, the bristling ghost beside you eases and offers a small smile. "I do suppose we must."

[d2kvirus]

Dickheads of the Month: December 2023

As it seems that there are people who say or do things that are remarkably dickheaded yet somehow people try to make excuses for them or pretend it never happened, here is a collection of some of the dickheaded actions we saw in the month of December 2023 to make sure that they are never forgotten.  

The pro-Israel lies continued apace with Danielle Greyman claiming that all those photos and footage of dead children and babies being pulled from rubble in Gaza aren't actually dead children or babies, but actually lifelike dolls which Hamas placed there - which definitely doesn't make it look as if the Netanyahu apologists are so far gone they refuse to acknowledge dead children as human beings just because their "side" keeps bombing houses and hospitals they happen to be in at the time of yet another missile strike

...which was soon followed by David Collier lecturing Medecins Sans Frontieres  for having the sheer gall to report that they witnessed Israeli tanks destroying their clearly-marked vehicles by accusing MSF of not just "empowering and protecting" Hamas (because of course) but also accusing MSF staff of being Hamas agents, which is an interesting twist on "Look what you made me do"

...though then we had Benjamin Netanyahu decide to go Full Baddiel by accusing the International Criminal Court investigation of war crimes by Israel of being "antisemitic" - although he sprinkled in a little Trumpism too by referring to them as "fake war crimes" because why the fuck not at this point?

...as opposed to Eli David who responded to the death of Refaat Alareer and his entire family in an Israeli airstrike (one of those "fake war crimes", I presume?) by gloating that he deserved it because of a tweet. That's right a fucking tweet is now justification for your death in the eyes of Netanyahu apologists

...meanwhile the always calm and rational Tzipi Hotovely was once again raging about letting Israel "finish the job" without being asked the obvious question about what that means (clue: it's genocide) and following up with talk of how Palestinians have been allowed to live in peace for seventy years with heavy "So therefore..." connotations to what she was saying - even though what she was saying was, you know, a complete fucking lie as Palestinians have not been allowed to live peacefully next door due to Israel making sure they don't and more importantly can't live peacefully

...and then it turned out that the Israeli Defence Force really need to keep their murder boners under control when it emerged that they "mistakenly" shot and killed three Israeli hostages who were shirtless and literally waving white flags at the time they were gunned down - contrary to what Bethany S Mandel said about Hamas having them wear burqas when moving them from place to place which is why the IDF "mistakenly" shot them, by the way

...on the subject of murder boners David Azoulai apparently wanted to say that his was even bigger, advocating that the Israelis should make Gaza look like Auschwitz without considering that, hey, maybe that sort of rhetoric makes him look so utterly demented that he's reduced Auschwitz to a threat to make towards Palestinians?

...while on the other hand Fleur Hassan-Nahoum had her own way of dealing with reports that the IDF had bombed a Catholic church in Gaza: by pretending that there aren't any Catholic churches in Gaza, in spite the inconvenient little detail about how there are - and there's one less, due to the IDF bombing it

...but speaking far more plainly was Itamar Ben Gvir when he said that Israel should execute Hamas members they have in prison every single day that the Israeli captives are not returned, a statement which actually becomes even more monstrous when you realise who is and isn't a Hamas member in the eyes of Likud is based solely on how many people were around to witness them being shot or bombed regardless of age

...meanwhile Naftali Bennett was having trouble keeping track of his dogwhistles when he accuse Iran of being a terror octopus, apparently forgetting that any and all references to an octopus is "antisemitic" because that's what the hard Zionist extremists were screaming about Greta Thunberg

Ultra-relatable nice guy Rishi Sunak showed everyone just what an ultra-relatable nice guy he was by thundering how the UK is a sovereign country - which means that the government can overrule UK courts to bulldoze through whichever batshit insane policies it has decided are the hills they want to die on, in this particular instance the Rwanda policy which has been deemed unlawful repeatedly by British courts, and now Rwandan courts are looking into how unlawful it is

...and then a few days later Rishi Sunak showed just how in charge of his own party he is when he claimed the additional £100m of taxpayer's money given the the Rwanda scheme was signed off by Suella Braverman, which suggests that he doesn't even know when his (now ex-)ministers are throwing around colossal piles of taxpayer's money - or he knew and he's just a fucking liar

...but don't worry, ultra-relatable nice guy Rishi Sunak (and the camera crew he had with him) bought a few boxes of mince pies in a shop in King's Cross Station to give to key workers, which definitely didn't look staged nor draw attention to how those key workers continue to be diddled out of a pay raise but a few of them might get a mince pie at Christmas if they were in Sunak's vicinity

It took less than a month before Javier Milei opened the fascism box and, oh boy, he did so with gust not just ordering the army to break strikes and arrest protestors but also to take away the children of anyone arrested for either of the former

...and once Javier Milei opened the fascism box he just kept on going, introducing 300 new laws overnight without debate let alone a vote in parliament, laws which included complete deregulation of the housing market and planning permission, selling off state assets for chicken feed, and removing public transport subsidies meaning bus fares cost ten times what they did the previous week

Habitual liar George Santos managed to make history, becoming only the sixth Congressman to be expelled from Congress in US history, and all it took was him spending campaign funds on his Onlyfans subscription

Barking MP Margaret Hodge was so casual with how she told the News Agents podcast that she did everything in her power to prevent Jeremy Corbyn from becoming Prime Minister in 2019 - you know, the exact thing centrist twerps have spent four years saying was just something that you'd imagined. I'm sure that Keir Starmer will hear this and consult the constitutional rules of the Labour Party and expel her from the party, which is what they say he should do...

Unifying force for good Keir Starmer once again showed his credentials to lead Labour by praising Margaret fucking Thatcher, which seems to be a trait of his inner circle given Rachel reeves also did so, because if one thing will appeal to Red Wall voters it's praising the person who made their communities destitute in the 1980s

Once again billionaire manchild Elon Musk had another one of his genius ideas, this time deciding to run a poll about whether he should reinstate Alex Jones - in spite Jones being in repeat violations of Musk's ToS on Twitter, let alone the Twitter ToS of people who had a clue what they were doing

...this was soon followed by billionaire manchild Elon Musk publicly arguing with MS Word's inclusiveness function - and then arguing with the Twitter Community Note which pointed out that you need to activate the inclusiveness function in order for it to work

...and then billionare manchild Elon Musk demonstrated what a small, petty little douche he is by removing Disney+ from Tesla's streaming options as he continued his bizarre rants at Disney removing their ads from Twitter as if they were the only company to not want their ads promoted next to far right material, once again making the Very Clever Business Move of pissing off Tesla customers who definitely haven't gotten sick of his shit by now

Brilliant idea by the Israel Defence Force to drop pamphlets with a QR code on them telling Palestinians to leave the area so they can bomb more hospitals and schools and claiming those too are Hamas outposts, what with Gaza not having internet for over a month due to the Israelis cutting it off thus making the QR codes unusable for anyone who they dropped a leaflet on

Looks like the Jewish Chronicle was really determined in their efforts to smear Owen Jones, bringing out Hadley Freeman under the impression that she qualifies as "the big guns" - only for Freeman to vomit out an article riddled with factual errors that somehow, in an article putting out a hit Owen Jones for the version of "antisemitism" where valid criticism of Israel are "antisemitic", still found space to bleat non-existent fears about the trans community in spite being about as relevant to the subject as Freeman is to journalism

The GTA6 trailer dropped and billionaire manchild Elon Musk could only pontificate about how he couldn't get past the tutorial of GTA5 as it required him to shoot police, with Ian Miles Cheong wading in to say he too couldn't shoot police in Clusterpunk 2077...only for Twitter's Community Notes to say that was bollocks, but of course we all know the real reason neither can shoot NPCs in videos games is because NPCs are their target demographic

I get the feeling that Grzegorz Braun thought that taking a fire extinguisher to Hanukah candles in the Polish parliament would be a guaranteed vote-winner, as opposed to what it actually did which was make him look like Basil Fawlty's fascist cousin

So nice of proven liar Boris Johnson to sneak into the Covid enquiry at the crack of dawn in order to avoid the people outside who might have had a few things to say to him about his handling of the pandemic by arriving there long before they arrived, which makes him look so brave and non-guilty

There are ways in which Michelle Mone could improve public opinion about her and MedPro making off like bandits with dodgy PPE contracts, but bankrolling a documentary where she moans about people not liking her while claiming she had no idea how her company kept getting these dodgy contracts is not it

...though quite why Laura Kuenessberg though it was a good idea to jet off to Spain so her flagging show would have an exclusive interview with Mone begs all sort of questions, not least why the first question wasn't "Why did you want to be interviewed in Spain, is there any reason you don't like the thought of the British authorities knowing your exact location?" - though Michelle Mone still managed to repeatedly implicate herself in a car crash interview where she couldn't even deny everything properly

...all of which caused Lord Bethel to go on the offensive by posting screengrabs of WhatsApp messages between himself and Mone. This would be the same Lord Bethel who had previously told the Covid enquiry that he had quite conveniently lost all his WhatsApp messages when changing his phone but suddenly he found them, which I'm sure Rishi Sunak and proven liar Alexander Boris De Pfeffel Johnson would be thrilled to hear given how they to had lost all WhatsApp messages

Yet again Liz Truss left the nation wishing she'd just fuck off into obscurity where she belongs, but no, we have to see her make Vote Leave architects Matthew Elliott and Jon Moynihan life peers in her resignation honours list

The current Health Secretary Victoria Atkins demonstrated just how qualified for the job she is by calling junior doctors "Doctors in training" during a TV interview, meaning she's either too stupid to understand what a junior doctor is or she's being patronising and failed to understand how being patronising made her sound too stupid to understand what a junior doctor is

You would think that waffling gargoyle Nigel Farage would be used to losing by now given the amount of elections he's lost to opponents both human and dolphin, but no, the grifting cunt did not take his coming in third place on I'm A Celebrity well and is whipping up his followers into attacking ITV because his bot campaign failed to win, which is frankly begging ITV to withdraw the £1.5m they paid him to be there

Bold move of Rafael Edward Cruz to introduce a bill to limit the use of preferred pronouns when you consider how he uses the preferred pronouns of Ted Cruz in his everyday life

Nominative determinism debunker James Cleverly once again did that thing where he opens his mouth and something utterly moronic spills all over the floor, this time thinking it would be a good laugh to joke about slipping Rohypnol into his wife's drink to keep her quiet over Christmas - a few hours after a crackdown on drink spiking was introduced by the Home Office, which just so happens to be the department Cleverly is the head of...

Totally normal behaviour from Derrick Evans to tweet a picture of Christmas tree ornaments that depict various members of Biden's cabinet being lynched on a Christmas tree on Christmas day - followed by an utterly cowardly attempt at walking that one back after it quite surprisingly drew a lot of backlash, with him claiming it wasn't his tree and admitting it was in bad taste...possibly because the FBI are particularly grumpy when having to talk with people who joke about murdering the government if they make those jokes on Christmas Day

So nice of Johnny Mercer to remind people that he exists by spending days on end yelling about Carol Vorderman on Twitter - not least because this was the latest in a long list of examples of Tories failing to understand the Streisand Effect, as it only drew attention to the fact Vorderman pointed out his pledge to reduce homelessness in the ex-military worked so well that it increased in 2023

Suffice it to say James Somerton did not take his utter dismantling at the hands of H.Bomberguy particularly well, with him rapidly deleting all socials and leaving co-writer Nick Herrgott to take the flak - and Herrgott didn't help himself by trying the defence that he can't be accused of plagiarism as he never did any research

...though somehow Internet Historian fans decided that they were the true victims of the H.Bomberguy video and that meant that H.Bomberguy must be destroyed, best exemplified by one of them posting on Kotaku in Action (which is still a thing, in 2023, long after the basis of GamerGate was exposed as a bitter ex-boyfriend making shit up...) offering a cash reward for any evidence that allows them to destroy H.Bomberguy, which is totally a normal response to pointing out that IH plagiarised the shit out of an article for a video

...and then James Somerton crawled out from under the rock he was hiding under in order to issue the standard nonpology - and by complete coincidence, with the nonpology video up he reactivated his Patreon without telling anyone and unprivated the videos on his Youtube channel, all in the hope of getting a nice little payout

Of course beanie-wearing testicle Tim Pool is the sort of person who spends days of the only life they will ever live trying to teach Grok AI to be transphobic and post the evidence of him doing so in the belief it doesn't make him look like a sad, pathetic waste of jism

Potato in a t-shirt two sizes too small for him Ricky Gervais has once again demonstrated what a thin-skinned little twerp he is by searching for his name on Twitter so he can retweet anyone and everyone who praised his latest Netflix comedy special, you know, the one which narrowly beat the competition from the fireplace effect for your TV screen for the prestigious title of most-watched thing released on Christmas Day

For some reason Joey Barton decided to put a lot of time and effort into trying to pick a fight with Mary Earps, presumably because he was narked by misplacing his book of inspirational quotes to post online and pass off as him having some sort of knowledge

So either Fntastic were in way over the heads with The Day Before and scaled back severely on their promised features when the game was released...for all of five days before it was pulled from Steam, or Fntastic were a bunch of scam artists who ran away with the money for their piece of shit game which they flung onto Steam before announcing the company closure - and judging by the statements they've issued, literally saying "Shit happens" in one case, the latter looks far more likely

[jarofstyles]

hey besties, pls do a football player Harry (soccer in case ur american lol) and physical therapist y/n !!

I know absolute shit all about football (soccer bc we are American) but we can give it a go!!! Plz don’t be mad I don’t know anything about it cause it’s ✨make believe ✨

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

—-

He was a little shit.

A beautiful, charming, irritating, little shit.

When Y/N has signed on for this team, being the medic was something she had been passionate about for years. Having her own accident and making it so she couldn’t properly play anymore, it was her mission to still be involved in the game so how. Y/N’s own injury and healing process had her become more and more interested in the profession, and here she was.

It wasn’t everything she had dreamed of, as nothing ever was, but it was good. She got to sit field-side every game, close to the action. And every injury she got first look at. She helped the guys with their stretches, their previous injuries and keeping them from Re-injuring themselves, taking care of them and making sure their physical shape was the best it could be.

In general? She was happy. But there was one man who was a thorn in her side and a pain in her crotch.

Harry Styles.

The man who decided it was his personal mission to follow her around like a puppy dog. Popping up in her singular moments of peace during game day. Texting her and asking about very, very small twists of ankles and giving her the ‘🥺 maybe you should come and look at it…’ whenever he did so.

Not to mention his complete and utter want to get into her pants.

Now it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle a few sexual jokes. Y/N was a big girl and knew 99% of the time, the guys on the team knew their limit. And Harry? Harry, in reality, was a gentleman. Never touched her inappropriately, ever. But the problem was… she kind of wanted him to.

There was no actual clause against staff members and players being together or hooking up. Nope, just frowned upon. Maybe a slap on the wrist. However Y/N knew, she knew that the moment anyone caught wind of her potential affections for any team member or acting on it? It would end with everyone thinking she slept with them to get the job.

Y/N worked long and hard. Tireless hours for make sure these men were healthy, fit, and at their best. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone for any job, and she was actually respected by this team which was something a lot of women weren’t in this field. She could not and would not throw it away for a good dicking.

Fuck, did she want to sometimes.

—-

Harry had these hands. The perfect hands, in her opinion. Big, strong with thinner fingers. Long fingers. A good sized palm, not overly veiny, just perfection in male hand scales. Luckily (or unluckily, whatever way you’d put it) she got to handle them often.

“S’sore today, doc.” He winced, sitting on the table in front of her. Harry’s wrist throbbed. It was rainy, and it was usually a wreck when it was the perfect condition. The ache was annoying, and he knew she had a solution.

Her lips pouted softly as she gently took the hand in place, thumbing over the part of the wrist where rhe injury had occurred. She had learned a while ago where to press, how to rub and get it to lessen before she wrapped it up. “Yeah… old injuries tend to never let you forget.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair.

Harry never could get over how fucking gorgeous Y/N was. From her nose to her lips, the pretty sparkle in her eye, the curve of her hip… he was obsessed. Not to mention the fact that she was so gentle with him. So kind and sweet, though he knew he got on her nerves with his teasing sometime. She could handle it and he always tried to watch to make sure he wasn’t going too far, but he couldn’t help it.

He was a silly boy with a bit fat crush.

Y/N didn’t bite for any of them. Everyone had attempted when she first came on, testing the waters. Her pretty face was welcome to all the blokes in the team, and there was something incredibly attractive about a woman who could heal. Nonetheless, she never gave in to anything.

In Harry’s case, he knew it was different. He could see her smile at some jokes, see her get the bumps on her skin when he brushed her a certain way. But she avoided the eye contact. Avoided the touches. And it drove him mad.

Of course she wouldn’t know he had actual feelings for him because he was a giant coward most of the time. He hid his affection in the dirty jokes and the teasing squeezes of her waist and teasing. He was a thick skinned man but a full rejection form her would hurt.

Her soft fingers gently massaged over the wrist, making him groan. His head tilted back and he let it out, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. “Oooh, don’t worry sweetheart. Y’know I like it to hurt a little.” His wide smirk made her roll her eyes huffing under her breath.

Y/N was not having a great day. She had been harassed by an Ex all fucking night over her new job. Making all the damn assumptions that she was getting ‘trained by the team’ in a much more vulgar way, and she had cried half the night. To say she wasn’t in the mood was an understatement, but she was trying.

Harry was not what she needed today, because it made her feel worse. Her blatant attraction to him made her feel guilty. She should be professional and leave it with. The way she had squeeze her legs tighter while he groaned didn’t help her case. The ugly words of how they’ only kept her around for a potential fuck’ was ringing in her head.

Harry though, he was a little oblivious. Her hands were so talented, and he didn’t watch her face for once as she hit a good spot again and he let out another remark.

“Jesus, that’s good. Do those magic hands work everywhere?”

That was the straw that broke her. It wasn’t his fault necessarily, he was just playing. But her eyes watered, hand yanking away as she turned from him, walking over to the bench. Trying to compose herself was hard as the tears burned so hard in her eyes, hands shaking slightly.

Harry startled, not used to that. She never flinched away like that, never ignored his remark and walked away. Usually told him to fuck off, rolled her eyes, something. But the energy in the room immediately shifted and he was uncomfortable. What had happened?

Cautiously, he cleared his throat and stood up from the bench, licking over his dry lips as he spoke again. “Uh… Y/N?”

“S’all I’m good for, right?” She muttered under her breath. Frantically wiping under her eyes she tried to focus on the paper in front of her but she could feel Harry approaching.

He furrowed his brow, not sure if he heard correctly. “Wha-“

Y/N whipped around fast, eyes teary and wet. “I said, that’s all I’m good for right? Only good for my hands and sex and all that pleasure you can get from me?” She hissed. “Only good for a romp in the sheets and a pretty face to heal your wounds and put on band aids. Only good to make you get off and feel good and then what? I’m left here with nothing.”

The tears left her, her hands shaking as she grabbed her bag. Harry felt his stomach drop. Never, ever had he wanted to make her feel like that. Her crying? That wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. He felt like he had taken a ball to the gut, hard. Those eyes he adored being full of pain, full of tears was his own personal hell.

“Y/N… wait, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he tried to follow her to the door, stopping abruptly when she lifted a hand up to him. Her stomping had made him nervous. Now she was leaving without talking to him and he felt like a complete dick. It was their normal teasing, but he had crossed a line.

“Don’t. Just…. Just leave me alone. I’m going home.”

—-

As much as Harry had wanted to chase after her, he had already made her cry once. He wasn’t risking it again.

The icky, gross feeling in his stomach followed him all day. He was gutted. Not only has he apparently crossed a line with someone he respected, he had a fucking crush on her. The man was convinced no other feeling was worse than a crush being angry at him. Even if it sounded juvenile to place it like that.

Harry liked Y/N. He never ever wanted to make her upset in any capacity, let alone feeling like a sex object or violated. He prided himself on respecting women. And he had fucking failed. He needed to make it right, and fast.

-

He had found her address. In her employee file, and he knew that was bad but he needed to check on her. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she was upset by him enough to leave and go home and he wanted to make sure she was genuinely okay.

It was an overstep and Harry knew it. He had to try, though.

He arrived at her door step with a box of cupcakes and some flowers. Gently kicking the floor, he heard the door open and his heart broke a little more.

Y/N standing in front of him with swollen eyes. She had been crying, seemingly a lot. And she looked upset still. Though he expected her to close the door in his face and tell him to fuck off. But she didn’t.

Instead, she broke into tears again, throwing herself into his chest. Her arms wrapping around his waist, he nearly tumbled over but righted himself as he startled. Quickly he found himself recovering, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her. He was able to maneuver slightly and drop the cupcakes on her entry table, flowers as well before having his arms free.

“Hey…. Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He whispered softly, gently placing a hand on her back. Rubbing it up and down, letting her cry into his tee shirt. It was worrying. Whatever happened was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to let that take away from the fact he had added and made it worse.

“I’m sorry.” Her muffled response was sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling… and saying you thought those things, you were playing and I…” she pulled back worth tear streaked cheeks and Harry’s look of pure concern making her lip wobble. “You didn’t do it. It was… he kept sayin’ that all the team wants is in my pants, and you make me feel guilty because you’re so…. Beautiful, and I never slept with anyone to get this job! Never. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone-“ she hiccuped, looking up at Harry as he caressed the back of her head.

“Who, lovely? Who wouldn’t leave you alone?” He asked with a calm tone. Of course he wasn’t. Someone was harassing her. And Harry would fucking take care of it. It boiled his blood to think of someone making her feel less than.

“My ex.” She sniffled again, slowly calming. Harry had that quality, she thinks. “He-He broke up with me for taking the job. Said… said that I was going to be a personal whore for all of you. And not do my job.” She took a shuddery breath. It was embarrassing admitting this to him, but he had been on the receiving end for a meltdown that wasn’t his to fix.

“Well, can I tell you something?” He brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the sticky tears from her cheeks. “You arent. You’re no one’s whore. You’re a respected, talented and intelligent member of our staff. You so happen to be incredibly beautiful, which obviously makes people find you more bewitching… but I know that we all look at you as a professional talent. They may have tried their luck at the beginning but you laid down the law quickly and they all understood.” He whispered.

“Me? I was trying my luck, because you’re incredible. And I think you’re lovely. But that isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s make some tea, hm? Relax. I brought you some cupcakes. I need to properly apologize for being inappropriate to you. Regardless if it was a joke…”

—

He sat next to her on her couch. The poor girl was better now, washing her face and a mug of tea in hand while Harry had helped himself to a vase and put the flowers inside. Carnations. He thought they were pretty, didn’t know the name until Y/N had fawned over them.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” She said softly, her big sweatshirt swallowing her up. Before Harry could interrupt, she put a finger up. “I know that you were just playing, Harry. I let you flirt with me like that. And I enjoy it.” She could feel herself get warm in the face. “If you’ve noticed, I let you get away with it. I enjoy it. And you didn’t do anything out of line. I was sensitive… I was still raw and I hadn’t had much sleep because he had blown up my phone and regardless he was telling me things he said in person over and over again. So…” Y/N shifted in her seat and used her sweater paws to bring the drink to her lips. “When you came in… I felt guilty for finding you attractive. For liking what you said to me.”

Harry sat for a moment, quiet. So she had liked it…. And felt guilty. Now knowing the context? It made sense. For the life of him he was trying not to hold in to the fact that she enjoyed it, but he couldn’t. It made him excited.

“Okay. That makes sense. Usually.. I do a better job at reading your physical cues. Sometimes I can see something isn’t the right thing to say because you’re tense already. But I was in my own world cause you were making the pain go away and I felt good. It isn’t an excuse, though.” He gently grabbed her hand once she set down her warm tee, thumbing over the knuckles.

“I felt like such a dick. I still do. You know that? And it isn’t because I’m attracted to you. But it’s because I didn’t think about the position I’m putting you in by flirting.” He moved a little closer. “I would never try and jeopardize your job. I’ve been blinded by my own feelings for a while and I was trying to feel it out but I didn’t think to think it was because someone else or a group of people would look down at you for it.” He frowned.

It was so unfair. They wouldn’t care if he slept with her. But they’d ridicule her for sleeping with him.

“I just want to let you know now as well… I wasn’t trying to come on to you to have a hookup.” He hummed. “The feelings I’ve got are genuine. Alright? They aren’t just too get into your pants. And I never want you to feel as though that’s your only purpose. Ever. You have so much worth, and while I’m positive you don’t need me to tell you that, I want tok anyways.”

He was unreal. She really thinks so. How did a man just… be like him. He was a fan favorite and had charm but behind the scenes he was even better than anything they said.

“Yeah. I think I was afraid. Because… I’m the same, you know?” She shyly admitted. “You’re charming and I didn’t want to admit I let your charm get to me, but it has. It has very much. And I like you. I don’t know what to do about it, but I think it’s only fair I admit it myself as well when you’ve put yourself out on the line.”

Harry’s grin grew, dimples pocketing in his cheeks. She liked him back. His heart was ringing in his ears, the shy little look into her eyes making him want to explode. Fucking adorable girl making him feel such intense emotions…. It was incredible.

Thank god. He thought he was going insane.

“We don’t have to do anything in the sense of our job right now. But since we both know… would you want to explore it? I would say privately. Just get to know each other better. Talk. Hang out. Cook food together… maybe kiss.” He smirked slightly at the end, making her let out a laugh. Her laugh soothed his Damn soul.

“I think I’d like that.”

——

Part II maybe? Who knows

[nxthero]

Random Kitana Headcanons Based on Interactions in MK11

Cut for length!

Kitana’s line of “I’ll not inherit your cruelty” has so much meaning to it. She is not a paragon of virtue; she has been largely molded by her upbringing and has habits and traits influenced by Shao Kahn, but that does not mean she is chained to her past and unable to form her own identity. Kitana’s line is a statement more of “I will be who I choose to be, not who you wanted me to be” instead of a declaration of her choosing kindness, because it will take more than kindness to free herself from Shao Kahn’s legacy. Even Cetrion calls her out on how dark and light are at war within her, and though Kitana says “I have chosen light” Cetrion remarks that it will always be an eternal struggle for her.

Wow Shao Kahn really loved to use Kitana’s mother against her. Beyond the fact that he sent Sindel to kill her, he throws their relationship in her face with no hesitation and it disgusts Kitana.

Kitana does not for one second see herself as innocent in her actions after learning the truth. She recognizes she is a victim, yes, but she does not use the fact that she was deceived as an excuse to absolve herself of the horrible things she did for her “father”. She was complicit, and she will own up to that. It’s why she tries so hard to uproot all the remains of Shao Kahn’s reign. Not only are the traces of him painful reminders of her past, but she has an innate need to make reparations for things that happened regardless of her participation or lack thereof.

Kitana knows she’s royalty and will not hesitate to remind you if you’re eager to ignore it and try and overstep your authority (read: if she doesn’t like you and you try to tell her what to do). Especially in verses where she becomes Empress. You’re not gonna tell an empress what she can and cannot do, I’m sorry. Everyone is treated with respect and equality until she feels like you’re trying to undermine her actual authority, then she’ll tell you to take a fucking seat Kyle.

Kitana hates losing with a burning passion, and though she won’t openly admit that she’s a sore loser, you can tell when she starts getting irritated and she hates being reminded of a loss. She’s a bit of a hothead, and while she’s typically good at hiding it, the longer you know her, the easier it is for you to notice. It’s kinda cute too lmfao

Kitana wants peace for her realm but don’t mistake a non-aggressive approach to her rule for an unwillingness to take a hard stance. She will go to war if she has to, and she will not play around.

Kitana adheres to proper etiquette herself because it’s ingrained into her to do so, but she’s not going to get mad over an impropriety, especially if you’re from another realm and might not be familiar with the customs. She really doesn’t care what you do unless you’re a dignitary that is supposed to keep to that kind of decorum. The exception is if it’s something that’s a blatantly obvious “you should never do/say this” moment or you’re just really, really rude to her, in which case perish you absolute fool.

The first thing Kitana did as Kahn was abolish the flesh trade in all its forms, whether it’s slavery, forced prostitution (key word being forced as she firmly believes s*x work as a whole is a respectable profession), or, particularly in the case of Tarkatans, a food source. The ritual sacrifices of the Osh-Tekk and Tarkatans? Gone. She will not allow her people to victimize each other any longer, and she doesn’t care if it’s in the name of “tradition”. This earns her the greatest backlash, but she will not budge on it.

Kitana as Empress has done much to promote equality in the court of Outworld. Outworlders, Edenians, Tarkatans, Shokan: all are treated with equal levity and respect by their Kahnum, though old prejudices between the various factions reemerge from time to time.

Kitana is absolutely one of those people who takes forever to get ready in the morning.

Kitana starts seeing Mileena as a sister again after she gets over her initial shock and outrage at Mileena’s true origin, though she has little hope for a pleasant relationship to develop between them. She would like for Mileena to join her, but she also questions whether she could even trust her if she did accept Kitana’s offer.

Kitana is regretful of Skarlet’s treatment while in Outworld’s court and really hopes she can win her over and fix their relationship. She definitely feels guilty for not doing something when she noticed Shao Kahn tightening his grip on the blood mage and isolating her from everyone, turning her more towards the dark arts.

Apparently D’Vorah killed Jerrod for Shao Kahn. Yeah, uh, Kitana’s not too happy with that fact. You’re fucking dead if she ever sees you again D’Vorah.

Kitana has a lot of respect for Kotal and asks him for advice when she has the chance. But if he hurts Jade, she will hunt him down without hesitation. Also he needs to stay out of her personal business like she is just one more disapproving comment about Liu Kang away from telling him to meet her in the pit istg. Gloves off, weapons down, pure “I will fuck you up with my bare hands” kind of energy.

Don’t take Kitana to New York anymore that place is weird as fuck.

[baecvlt]

hi um.. this might be an odd request and ofc you dont have to do it but uh can i get a byakuya togami x reader (smut oneshot) in which the reader has a degradation kink and well, its byakuya, you can decided on the rest

The Same Deep Water as You

in which the reader is degraded by Byakuya Togami 

Byakuya Togami x Reader

smut

(as stated in follow up dm) fem reader

requested by anon: first tike working with this kind of thing

warnings: degradation and slightly masochist actions to be aware of (not too severe). good ending tho so..

enjoy !

She was a quiet girl, never really spoke to anyone but Makoto and Kyoko. They weren’t so awful. While others weren’t awful, she didn’t think of them as approachable. She could talk to them, but she couldn’t be too trusting. Especially of—

“What did I tell you about looking in my direction, you cretin”

Byakuya Togami.

Makoto and Kyoko looked back at Byakuya, staring. “I wasn’t staring,” she argued,“Honestly, I wasn’t”. He approached her,“So, I’m a liar now?”. She shook her head frantically, hoping he’d go away. “Give it up, Togami,” Kyoko said,“Leave the poor girl alone. She’s having a rough day”. She looked away and put her head down on the table. “Whatever,” he said,“I’m not even half interested to know why. Just keep your distance”.

She had no idea what was wrong with him, why his cruelty shone on her and no one else. He was a dick to everyone, but most of all towards her. It was kind of starting to hurt, but mostly because being in this situation of a killing game was rather stressful. Byakuya’s unnecessary cruelty didn’t help. Still, she tried to keep a smile, if not, at least a friendly face.

“Well, Makoto and I have business to attend to with that whole next blackened bullshit. See you later. By the way, just stay out of Togami’s way. He’s a prick, it won’t do u any good to be near him. Okay?”

She nodded, taking his advice a little too literal.

She did exactly as Kyoko told her as she tried keeping a routine. She went to her room, grabbing her very little laundry. She walked to the laundry room, pusbing open the door. When she got a view of the room, she immediately turned back, for Byakuya was sitting there doing his laundry. She went to her room, set her clothes down, and waited for Byakuya to leave.

Finally, he was gone. This allowed for her to wash her clothes. After drying and folding, she decided it’d be a good idea to relax and enjoy what the school had to offer, such as the sauna. What? Who cares if this is a killing game? It was far more luxurious than anything she had in her day to day life. She has the right enjoy things. Wearing her bathing suit underneath, she walked her way to the sauna, but before that, she stripped down and put her normal clothes in a locker. Then, she was off.

As she sat in the heat, she thought to herself. All these thoughts were regarding Byakuya. It was things like “Why is he such a dick?” and “Why me? What did I do?”. They were all valid thoughts. At this point, he was treating her worse than he treats Toko. It’s got to he something he has against her. Then again, she couldn’t act like she didn’t like it. The sheer degradation of it all gave her a thrill, but Byakuya wasn’t fucking her so really he had no reason to act that way. Just as she wrapped up her thoughts, she decided it was a good time to leave before the sauna burned her skin right off. She walked right out of there. When alone, she was pretty confident about herself, her body. Its when she’s around others that she gets quiet. Judgement is a fear of hers, so she’s learned that the more you say/do, the more susceptible to judgement you are.

...but she was alone, she didnt worry.

Confidently, she walked out of the sauna. Despite the heat, it was refreshing. She opened her locker, getting her clothes out. She began to get dressed, realizing no one was around, then straight up stopped giving a fuck. She got her normal underwear on without interruptions, sliding on her pantyhose then skirt. Now it was time for her top. She took off her bikini top and replaced it with her bra. That was when she heard footsteps approaching, but they faded, so she ignored it. Putting on her long sleeve button up, her torso faced the entrance as her eyes focused on her buttons.

“Christ, screw me”

Without thinking, she replied,“Give me a time and place?”. She very slowly realized who the voice belonged to as she stopped buttoning up her shirt. Byakuya stared, she covered her mouth. “Eager, aren’t you?,” he scoffed. She finished her buttons as she walked right past him, ignoring his snide remark. That perv. Surely, he could’ve said something. He was there for a while. Was he judging her or did he like what he saw? Who knows?

What we know now is that the Togami’s raised a weirdo.

This only gave her a better reason to avoid him. Everytime she went somewhere, if she saw him there, regardless if he had seen her or not she’d walk out. Like when she wanted a snack, he was there. “Hey,” he said to her, but she was gone. This also happened in the Rec Room, where she was playing with Celeste. He walked in, looking for Makoto. Even still, and mid-game, she dismissed herself. If only there was one place where she wouldn’t have to see him. Then, she remembers she overheard Byakuya say he was in no need of the library.

She figured it’d be a good opportunity for her to go there and read something, be in solitude. She’d been there once and it was so quiet. She walked her way there, peeking first to make sure the coast was clear. She picked up a random book of poetry. It didn’t matter what book it was really, she just wanted to read. She was glad the library was unoccupied. It was quite peaceful. Unlike the sauna, it took her mind off Byakuya. God, he’d be perfect if he wasn’t a prick. Why was he so cute? So attractive? If given the chance, she would show him how she cares, but what’s it worth if he despises her for no reason? Oh, well. She had read enough pages, deciding to leave an hour later. Suddenly, she got the feeling that she wasn’t alone. She had a pretty good instinct when it came to these things.

She didn’t want to be the next victim of anything, so she ran out and hurried to her room.

Bing-bong, Bing-Bong!

Nighttime, how great. Well at least that night ended on a rather okay note, despite everything else. Just as she was headed to her bed, there was a note slipped underneath her door. It startled her, picking it up.

“Come to my room at once. Togami”

Great.

So not only did she have to endure his verbal abuse during the day, it seems it could also branch out at night. She knew she didn’t have to go, but maybe if she did as he said, he’d back off. She walked to his room, only a few doors down the hall. She knew, this was disobidience of the bed time rule, but in that moment, it was the least of her concern. She put on her clothes from earlier today, heading out. She knocked on the door, waiting for him to open the door, and it did after a few seconds. Her heart was pounding as the door opened, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. “Y/N,” he greeted casually. She noticed he still wore his suit and in no way looked like he was at all getting ready for bed. “Good evening, Mr. Togami”. She wanted to be as respectful as possible. “Come in”. She cautiously stepped in. He closed his door, going to sit on his bed afterward.

“Sit”

She sat down on his chair, still nervous. “You look so tense,” he said in a softer tone, much softer than his usual demanding tone,“Relax”. She nodded. He looked at her and got up. Walking behind her, he ran his fingers through her soft hair. “How does it feel to be the object of my lust?,” he whispered. A chill ran down her spine as she muttered,“What?”. “Do you want it?,” he asked,“Me, treating you like a stray dog, I see how it excites you. I’d be more than willing to give it to you”. Her breath hitched and her face was hot. “Y-Yes”. He raised a brow. “Use you words, Y/N,” he said, placing a hand on her throat. “Fuck me, please,” she groaned, craving him. That was enough for him to start putting her on edge. He wanted her to beg, he loved to hear it. “How long has it been since you’ve been touched this way”. 

“Too long”

His hands reached for her breasts, teasing them as he kissed her neck. “Oh my god!,” she cried. Her legs spread and he took note of this. “Go to bed,” he ordered,“I want you on your back”. She didn’t hesitate. She leapt to his bed and lay down. He immediately followed, hovering over her. He pinned her wrists down and began kissing her skillfully. She couldn’t help, but bite him and him flinching further increased her excitement. “What the hell?,” he cursed, she smirked. It angered him that she was having fun with this. He pulled off her skirt and ripped open her pantyhose, spreading her legs. “From now on, you are to call me master and nothing else,” he told her, moving her panties aside and licking her pussy. His tongue focused on her clit, but god, it felt good. She whined, reaching for his hair. While she was able to pull it a little, he grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her down again. His tongue began focusing on all other parts of her, rolling his thumb on her clit, softly. All she could do was squirm, but even that was hard to do. “Who’s pussy is this?,” he asked. 

“Yours, master”

“That’s my girl”

She was cumming, practically dripping the more he touched her. He let go of her wrists, allowing her to finally tease her breasts and play with his hair as he ate her out. He loved her taste; she was sweet. Without moving his mouth away, he carefully worked two fingers into her, allowing him to taste her even more. “How’s that making my little slut feel?,” he asked. “Really, really good. Please, m-master,” she whined, but other than that, it was all incoherent babbling. She was frantic at that point.

“Look at you,” he whispered as his mouth was really going into it,“You’re making quite the mess, you know?”. “I know, master”. Her apologetic tone begged a question. “Come here,” he ordered. She sat on the balls of her feet, waiting for his next words. His hand was soft as he put it on her cheek, caressing her.

“Has my little slut had enough?”

She shook her head, muttering,“I want more”. Her lust-filled eyes stared into his as she went for his belt buckle. “Not like this,” he said, sitting down properly. “Okay,” he assured,“Come here, doll”. She went for his belt buckle and undid it. Carefully, she took his cock out, spitting. “Master, you’re aching”. He twitched as she stroked his sex with those words falling from her mouth. His stomach sank as feeling of her hands touching him this way dawned on him. He needed her, so bad.

“Bend over for me”

Her stomach lay flag on the bed as her ass was in the air, waiting for him to fuck her. “Shit,” he exclaimed, that was the first time she’d hear him cuss. “What’s wrong?”. He sighed.

“I don’t have any protection on me”

Thats when she reached into her shirt and bra, handing him a condom. “What the hell? How long did you have that in there?”. “No more questions,” she said softly,“Come on, baby”. Slowly, he teased her entrance, rubbing his cock slowly and making her shiver before grabbing her hips, slamming into her. Upon impact, her pussy spasmed around his cock as she reached for the pillow in front of her. He gasped, his fingers digging into her soft skin. “I’m gonna stretch you out”. She whined into the pillow as he repeated that, slowly at first. As much as he wanted to pound into her, he knew knew if he did that, he wouldn’t last long. “Ah! master, that feels really good,” she cried,“I need more.. please!”. He could barely speak. “I go at whatever pace I want, slut!,” he managed.

“M-Master, is it because you know you’ll cum fast if you do? Even thinking about pounding me makes you go slower than you already are, doesn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

His hand slammed onto her ass. She winced, gripping the sheets as he picked up the pace. Her eyes then rolled back. “Is this what you wanted?,” he said with gritted teeth. She let out a shaky cry and said,“Master, it’s what I needed”. A mirror was in front of them, Byakuya using it to check how she reacted to certain things. Letting him hit all around her walls drove her insane, but he still wasn’t going so hard. She also used the mirror to her advantage. She saw how he was struggling to fuck her hard without cumming. She wanted to mess around too. She smiled with lustful eyes, putting two fingers in her mouth and drooling over them. “What the hell”. Her playfulness left him flustered. He grabbed and held her up by her hair and slammed into her repeatedly.

“Oh, master, don’t ever stop! Please, don’t stop!”

He held her up with his hands on her breasts, kissing her neck. Her stomach went crazy, finding new ways to make her sick every time he hit her sweet spots. He had no problem finding them, he must have them memorized by now. There was about her, something so fucking intoxicating. She was like a drug and he was addicted. At first, he despised her for it, but soon enough, he started love her for it and that was scary. It all hit him when he saw how this woman devoted herself to him, even before fucking. She always respected him and saw him for other than money or looks. Immediately, guilt struck him.

That’s when he wanted to take things slower and actually look at her as they fucked. He sat up as she straddled his lap, riding his cock slowly, rhythmically almost as they kissed. Their kisses were much more passionate. His lips let her win, allowing her to kiss him sweetly. His hands held her back, hers wrapped around his neck while one played with his hair and it all felt right. Melting onto one another, he admired her eyes and how satisfied she appeared to be and how angelic her face was when he hit just the right spots. They spoke in between kisses. “Master-”. He shushed her, softly, rather than abruptly. “You don’t need to call me that now,” he whispered as he caressed her cheek.

“Byakuya, fuck, I love you”

“I love you too; all of you,” he muttered, maneuvering her hips in a way that made her groan. She rolled her hips down and tightened around him. That was when he realized that he could no longer continue. “I think I’m-”, he grunted and gasped, digging his head into her chest. “Did you cum?,” she asked, Byakuya nodding. His head suddenly peeked up. He was flustered and asked,“Did you really mean all that? You love me?”. He spat the word as if it sickened him. She nodded and played with his hair.

“I knew you’d mock me for it. Falling in love during the killing game? Pathetic”

“So... am I also pathetic?”

“No, what?”

“I said it too. Does that make me pathetic?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered,“Of course not”. There was a moment of silence between the two, where they just lay there and waited till someone said something. “I’m gonna head to my room,” she said. He nodded, although deep down, he protested and wanted to ask her to stay. He couldn’t do that, though. So there, he watched her get dress and leave the room with a funny walk.

The next morning, she got dressed and on her way to meet with the others. Upon opening her door, she was greeted by Byakuya. “Oh, good morning, Togami,” she said,“I didn’t expect to see you-”. He suddenly kissed her, taking her by surprise. “I love you and I want you to be mine,” he blurted. It shocked her even more since this was extremely out of character for him. “What?”. He held her hands. “Ever since we made love the other night, it’s been impossible for me to stop thinking of you”. People stopped at the door, staring because for some reason he heavily emphasized that fact. “You what?,” Kyoko asked. Byakuya stood in front of her to block her.

“Come on, Y/N”

There was a twinkle in his eyes as he asked for your hand (in a way). He loves you? It was hard to believe, but the more you thought about it, the more it felt right. What are you to say?

[genshin-impacted]

empress of the first water // Zhongli x Reader (2)

Word Count: 1.8k

Palace/Harem Imperial Drama AU: You are a princess, soon-to-be-Empress, and Zhongli is the teacher invited by the royal court to show you the ropes before you ascend to the throne after a royal tragedy.

Notes: female + Princess!Reader, Teacher!Zhongli, mutual pining, fake politics, Zhongli POV

xiansheng - Chinese honorific translated to as “person born before another,” also used as a title to refer to persons of authority or skills; generally used to mean “teacher”

[Previous] [Next]

Zhongli’s duties as the Princess’ tutor, as spoken by the head noble-- a man who seemed to always have a sneer on his face-- was to fully and completely reeducate the Princess. He understands now why his room is so close to yours considering how they have asked him to spend the majority of your day with him-- and vice versa. You seem to take this schedule in stride, listening to his lectures with an apt mind and following whatever lessons he brings throughout the day, regardless of familiarity or novelty.

But you are quiet, and as appreciative as Zhongli is at a rapt audience, he knows you have more to say than what you are giving-- but he understands. Zhongli can’t imagine not having a moment of solidarity when the presence of others can be so oppressive in the face of grief. In the middle of his afternoon lessons, he excuses himself and allows you to have a break. He knows he has decided well when you shoot him a grateful smile and when he sees you deflate the moment he closes the sliding door.

“Has she not been raised as a Princess for her whole life?” He asks the noble politely as they walk down the long outdoor hallways of the palace. He had been called to meet up with him on his way to court with the intentions to review the Princess’s progress, only it seems as though the head noble had no intentions of listening. “Surely, there is no need for me to go so extensively into that sector of education," he presses.

The noble sighs. “Mr. Zhongli, with all due respect, the girl--” Zhongli can feel his brows raise at the lack of title used-- “...has never been properly prepared for the possibility to become the Empress. She was one of the last ones in line to inherit the throne, so no one thought she could amount to anything. Surely, you’ve seen the way she acts?” The noble lifts his round silk fan to his face, and Zhongli, despite all his efforts to not feel disdain for the callous noble, feels his patience wear thin. “It was such a surprise, you see, to all of us when that tragedy hit, but alas, she’s the only one left.”

“I see,” Zhongli replies coolly. “And so you would have me follow her and scrutinize her every action to make her fit to rule?”

If the noble took heed of his frosty tone, he does not react to it. Instead, he looks at Zhongli coyly from behind his fan. “I assure you, it will be best for both you and me to have her reeducated. To an extent.” The noble says, “I assume you know what I’m referring to? You’re an intelligent man, Mr. Zhongli. You come from a good family and know much of the world… but you could always, ah, possess more.”

“Knowledge is power, as I am sure you are aware,” he says, chuckling. Zhongli watches in silence as the noble walks away, waving a flippant hand. “Be sure to take care not to provide her with too much, Mr. Zhongli, and perhaps I’ll refer you to a different title someday.”

.

.

.

When Guizhong was chosen to become a lady of another country, Zhongli felt, for the first time in many, that perhaps there was more to life than a constant grapple for power and the legacy that it would lead. She had not wanted to leave as much as he did not want her to go, but he did not understand then that he held power in his mind and in his own actions to change the path in which his path would lead.

Despite his disdain for the lies and trickery involved with the power struggle, Zhongli knows he will keep his promise to his father to uphold his family honor. He has always been a man of his words, for he bound himself into fulfilling them as though they are contracts.

But as he watches the head noble disappear behind the court doors, Zhongli wonders if that is all he is capable of.

When he thinks of Guizhong-- when he thinks of you, who has lost so much and could lose so much more, he thinks that for how your world seems to be against you, he wants to be someone on your side of the ring-- despite how everyone pressures for the opposite. Zhongli does not know if he deserves it, but he wishes to have your trust. He has yet to know how to truly support you, but he wants to provide you the freedom of choice if he can-- even in the smallest of ways.

And so he gives you freedom in the only way he knows how.

“What would you like to learn about today?” Zhongli asks you the next day as the two of you walk quietly to the study room. He can’t help the smile on his face when you turn to him in poorly-hidden surprise. Despite how you may act in front of the nobles whom he knows has an ill-opinion of you as you of them, you cannot help the emotions that come to the surface. He thinks himself lucky, if he were honest, to know that he is at least in your favor enough for you to let down your guard to give him a glimpse of the Princess he had seen not a fortnight ago.

To this date, he has only seen you be as such with your lady-in-waiting, Amber, but he knows that in his presence, he has only barely scratched the surface to the depth of your relationship and personality.

“What would I like to learn about?” You repeat, looking out into the garden in thought. “I’m not sure,” you say, turning to him. “What do you want to teach me?”

Zhongli blinks. “Pardon?”

At his confusion, you laugh, and Zhongli cannot help how his chest flutters at your sound of joy, for how far off it seemed that you would ever express that again. Just when he thought he could not be surprised, you tilt your head and smile teasingly at him. “You and I both know that the nobles are the ones that have been controlling my schedule for the past week. I want to know what you would want to teach me personally.”

Zhongli feels his cheeks warm at the tone of your voice. “Princess, I--” His father would be horrified at his lack of composure, but Zhongli cannot afford to think of his family and their expectations when you look up at him expectantly without an ounce of impatience. He clears his throat and thinks deeply, much to your amusement, putting his hand to his chin. “I suppose… I suppose I could provide you the history of the glaze lilies that the garden has in abundance?” He says, watching as your eyes soften, “They’re quite remarkable-- able to bloom in a night and gone in the next, some even saying they possess a different scent if you sing to them.”

“I agree with them, whoever said singing to them creates a different scent,” you say, looking out into the garden by the bamboo where three glaze lilies lay unbloomed. “If you sing the Liyuen lullaby to them, it produces a very soft fragrance-- almost like baby powder.” You turn to him and smile. “They were my mother’s favorite,” you explain gently. “She always sang and picked one for me to keep in my room.”

Zhongli lowers his head in respect. “My apologies, Princess, I didn't mean to bring up such personal topics."

“No, no! Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, laughing. “It’s fine. It’s nice to think of something nice like that.” You brush your hair behind your ears, and if there was a nostalgic lilt to your voice, he does not throw attention to it. “I like it,” you say, “please continue. I’m curious about the glaze lily’s history.”  

And what was Zhongli to do for the Princess if not to continue?

Zhongli doesn’t know if you have committed his every word to memory, or whether you remember anything in regards to the dates he provided (you are terrible with dates, he has found out, much to your embarrassment; but much like everything he knows of you, he finds it endearing). But he watches as you walk through the garden with him, the most at peace he has ever seen you, and he continues to speak.

And Zhongli lets his voice rid of the garden of silence, your thoughtful hums and soft laughter as accompaniment. Soon enough, though, the sun sets and the stars begin to shine, and Zhongli leads you to your room where you will be served dinner.

You thank him for the lesson, and he nods gracefully, his hand upon his chest. When he raises his head, you are still smiling at him. (He thinks abruptly that he would like to keep that smile on your face, if only for a moment, and the next words tumble from his mouth.)

“If you are looking for a place by the sea,” he says, remembering your words from before, “‘where the wind blows and the earth is clean,’ then I believe that I shall make our lesson on that the next time we find ourselves free.”

You blink up at him, eyes wide-- lips parted as though awestruck until they widen into the kindest smile he has ever seen on you.

“Yes,” you say softly, “that sounds lovely. Thank you.”

Zhongli lowers his head again in respect, swallowing at the magnitude of your magnanimity. “Of course, Princess.”

He expects to be dismissed, but instead he hears you ask, “Would you like to join me for dinner, xiansheng?”

Zhongli wonders how many times a person can bewilder him one day. “Pardon me?”

“I’m asking if you, Zhongli xiansheng,” you say with a now-familiar lilt of amusement, “would like to eat with the Princess.” You laugh when he stands, tall as he is, gaping at you. “You can say no. I won’t take offense. Promise.”

And he thinks to himself that as generous as you are to offer him the option to deny your request, he doesn’t know if he ever would have.

Dinner consisted of the finest foods: Peking duck, the freshest peaches of Fontaine, the grains of Qingce Village, and bamboo soup that would have put his personal chef to shame. It is custom of the Princess to sit from a table distant from him, but in the confines of your inner chambers, you sit right in front of him, placing dishes in front of him for him to try. (Zhongli has a feeling you would pile food onto his bowl if you could.)

He has the delight of not only enjoying the foods you have offered but also the sight of your smiling countenance for the remainder of that night. And for once, he feels as though he has taken the reins on his own life-- for the better.

(He only hopes he can keep holding on.)

[owl-with-a-pen]

I think it would be hella cute if we got a prompt where Brainy carries Nia to bed after she passes out on the couch doing an article or maybe just being tired in general. I know brainy would just be super soft In that moment and be so delicate with her.

- I'm always up for some Brainia softness! Thanks for the prompt x

Although Nia had mostly overcome her habit of falling asleep at inexplicable angles, she was not without relapse.

At least she had fallen asleep somewhere relatively comfortable, Brainy mused as he watched her from the across the sofa, snoring soundly with her face tucked against her laptop’s keyboard.

Said laptop was working vigorously to keep up with the onslaught of text Nia had inadvertently caused to relay across the screen. Currently, her document was on it’s seventh page of tangential gibberish.

Brainy understood the cause. It was no secret that Nia had been pushing herself harder as of late. Not only had she been throwing herself into every aspect of her superhero work, she was also dealing with a deluge of articles - some of which that were on some very tight deadlines - thanks to one Andrea Rojas. Since Kara had returned to office, instead of laying off of Nia as she had admittedly expected, Andrea had instead found a new interest in her, prompting her for more and more stories big and small that might have otherwise been covered by Kara or other more notable members of the team.

“I just can’t figure her out,” Nia had grumbled to Brainy two nights ago on that very same couch. “I don’t know if she’s using me so that Kara can focus on this whole Super Friends angle, or if she’s actually valuing my work as a reporter. Honestly, I don’t even know if that matters. It’s way more responsibility than she’s ever trusted me with before.”

Brainy had to agree that Andrea’s intentions were certainly difficult to figure out, but regardless, Nia had assimilated to her new responsibilities remarkably well. There was a fervour in her eyes when she worked on these new articles, one that had not been present when her priority had simply been covering entertainment and fluff pieces.

Brainy loved seeing that passion in her work reignited, and desperately wanted to support her efforts in any way that he could, even if it was simply by making sure she still heeded to her body’s basic needs.

Such as right now, for example.

“Nia?” Brainy asked softly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Nia Nal?”

Nia’s eyes only scrunched tighter shut in response, burying her face firmly into her folded arms.

Brainy smirked. The likelihood of this running smoothly had not been in his favour, after all.

It seemed that direct action would be his only way forward.

He stood from the sofa, walking to Nia's side before waving his hand in front of the laptop’s screen. With that, a connection was made, enough that the keyboard locked, halting Nia’s impressively long and continuous key smash at just over ten pages.

Brainy relaxed his eyes, allowing them to flicker across the screen as he kept his hand hovered above the keys. Once he was certain he had read through and highlighted all irrelevant data, he straightened, linking his hands together. In the same motion, he deleted all words not pertaining to the main body of Nia’s original article before she had fallen asleep, ensuring to back-up the document so that she could read it back at a better suited hour.

Once he was certain that her progress was safe, Brainy snapped the laptop shut, taking special care to slip it from beneath Nia’s chin before tucking it fluidly beneath his arm. Nia jerked slightly from the change in angle, but the sofa’s arm was more than equipped to take up the duty of impromptu pillow in her laptop’s absence.

Still, it was not an adequate position to allow her to rest for the time that her body required.

Brainy was well acquainted with the aches and pains the body could present after remaining in an awkward position for far too long. He could admit that he, too, had a habit of getting absorbed in his work, so-much-so that he had forgotten to move for hours if not days at a time.

At least his physiology allowed for a shorter recovery period. With no implants to assist her, Nia’s body would not be nearly as forgiving.

And so, once Brainy had safely deposited Nia’s laptop on the dinner table, he came back to her, folding his arms in silent contemplation.

What was the most efficient way of doing this?

Brainy’s lips twitched thoughtfully. Perhaps the old-fashioned bridal style was in order.

Careful not to jostle his girlfriend too much, Brainy bent forward, slipping his arms beneath her. Once he was sure he had a secure enough hold on her both her legs and torso, Brainy stood to his full height, taking Nia along with him.

Expectedly, Nia hardly stirred at all. Her dark hair fell about her face as she readjusted instinctively to the new position, a soft incoherent murmur passing her lips before she curled in towards Brainy’s chest, searching out the warmth of his closest life projector.

Brainy took a moment to equilibrate his balance before starting towards the bedroom. As he moved, he couldn’t help but glance down, taking this moment to capture Nia’s peaceful expression once again, the total relaxed nature of her body language as she melted so trustingly into his arms.

Brainy lowered his head, pressing his lips gently into Nia’s hair, swallowing the urge to laugh when she mumbled again into his chest.

From there, Brainy maintained delicate strides as he carried Nia into their bedroom. Once there, he rested his knees against the mattress, lowering her carefully into the awaiting comforter and pillows beneath, folding them securely over her even while her arm still hung limply behind his shoulders, her face pressed adamantly against his chest.

It was not without substantial effort, but eventually Brainy managed to untangle Nia from him completely, allowing her head to rest at a far more comfortable angle against her pillow.

He ran his hand through her hair as an afterthought, brushing away the strands that had tangled across her mouth, tucking them carefully behind her ears.

Nia’s eyes fluttered at that and she tipped her head, blinking up at Brainy in confusion. Brainy's chest warmed immediately at the sight. He smirked, cupping his hand against her cheek, running his thumb along her jaw. His smile widened when Nia sighed, relaxing into his touch. “Brainy?” she murmured, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“It is I,” Brainy confirmed, gentle humour warming his tone. His expression softened. “Rest, Nia, you are in need of it.”

Nia snorted. “Don’t hav’ta tell me twice…” she slurred, muffling a yawn into her awaiting pillow. She hummed softly as Brainy continued the idle motions with his thumb. “Are you coming to bed, too?” she asked.

“Soon.”

Nia nodded sleepily, reaching out for his hand before he could even think of removing it. Brainy watched silently as she took his fingers in hers, slipping his hand away from her face so that she could press a kiss against his knuckles. The warmth of her lips sent a pleasant tingle up his arm, causing him to grin all over again.

“Promise?” Nia asked.

Brainy's chest caught. Honesty, after all, extended far beyond the life or death experiences they faced far too often out on patrols. Not every mark of transparency had to be as profound. Sometimes, it was as simple as this.

He leant down then, kissing his girlfriend’s forehead, folding his hand reassuringly over hers. “Believe me when I say there is no where I would rather be,” he said.

“Good,” Nia said, smiling proudly as she snuggled further into her mound of pillows.

In just seconds, her mouth started to fall slack as she joined the realms of her dreams once again.

There were still a few things Brainy needed to do before joining Nia's side for the evening, but he would do everything in his power to complete those tasks as quickly as possible.

After all, he'd made a promise.

[gakkubi]

Ame Trio's Personalities: Yahiko

I want to share some thoughts on the Ame Trio/Ame Orphans because I do think they have one of the most complex, interesting and beautiful arcs in the Narutoverse.

I will discuss their personalities and thoughts. This post is about Yahiko, there are also Nagato and Konan.

(1/3): I'll start with Yahiko because he's the one who dies first and influences the others' personalities.

YAHIKO:

Also available in Russian: ссылка на русский перевод

Although Yahiko is arguably the character who appears “less” among the Ame Trio - naturally, for dying first - he takes up significant part of the flashbacks he appears in. Jiraiya, Nagato, Konan; even in Obito’s memory of the Ame Trio - which serve the plot purpose of showing how Obito started manipulating Nagato - he spends most of the flashback interacting with Yahiko. Yahiko was extremely remarkable to all the people who met him, there is no doubt that Kishimoto took every opportunity he had to tell us he was a very important character.

Something I find very interesting about Yahiko is how easily he could be a villain; he has many of the personality traits of of classical villains. This is not accidental - in Chapter 372, when Jiraiya finds and confronts Konan, his memories of the Ame Orphans lead him to believe Yahiko was the one who first turned evil (in their conversation, Konan never clearly explains whose ideology they have embraced; it’s very implied Jiraiya was inclined to believe that was Yahiko).

This is built purposefully to confuse the audience regarding Pain’s identity as the one who possesses the rinnegan is Nagato; one has the “villainous” personality, the other has the power.

Of course, we all know Yahiko is not a villain, even though he could easily be. Yahiko’s most powerful personality trait is his ambition; this trait is the one that will always surpass the others.

Yahiko is a survivor; we are shown repeatedly that he would do just about anything to to keep alive (and Nagato and Konan with him). We are shown some of his big and most drastic actions like stealing, but minor details like cooking, gathering supplies and stabilising a house for him and Konan - taking from the story and Nagato’s conversation with Jiraiya, it’s safe to assume Yahiko was the mastermind behind all the actions that allowed them to survive as children. Yahiko knew they needed power to survive, and we’re shown in the anime their journey to find Jiraiya and how he quickly learned to navigate in the warzone by being able to put himself in the shoes of his “enemies” and think like they did. Yahiko always had an extremely clear sense of what he wants and how to get there.

He is also a natural leader; we can’t say for sure how much of his leadership is actually his nature and how much it comes from needing to step up as the leader of the trio, given how Nagato and Konan have more passive personalities. The fact is, by the time Yahiko dies, he has been acting as a leader for more than half os his life; giving orders and being in control is his comfort zone. He will have control and boss others even if they don’t agree with him, which is clearly stated when he tells Konan he believes Nagato is the one who will bring peace; he put Nagato in that position regardless of Nagato’s opinions - Konan will support Nagato and not him, regardless who she thinks is the “bridge to peace” (Chapter 509).

In that particular flashback of Jiraiya, there are two classically villainous traits shown: the first is anger; it’s implied that Yahiko is a kid full of anger and hate, but in fact, he is a very emotional and sensitive person - in that, he is very similar to Nagato - although unlike him, Yahiko will almost always express his feelings. He’s angry because he’s in pain and won’t conform to his fate as a victim of a poor country. The second one is both his ambition and megalomania: He will change the country, no matter the lenghts he has to go through.

Another strong trait of Yahiko’s thought process is that ends justify the means. This is proven by many of his actions; to survive, he will steal; to defend others, he will put his own life at risk - the ultimate proof of this is sacrificing his life to save Nagato and Konan from Hanzo. They are the ones who must survive no matter what; no matter if he dies. Although the famous “the end justify the means” sentence is usually associated with Machiavellianism, Yahiko doesn’t display the other traits needed such as manipulativeness and indifference to morality to classify him as a machiavellian person.

Yahiko could easily become a “villain”; he has unbreakable ambition and he’s willing to go to extreme lengths to get what he wants regardless of the opinion of those around him. I could easily say just about the very same about Obito, Madara and Orochimaru with a few changes here and there; I could even describe adult Nagato like that.

Seeing this particular scene in Jiraiya's memory, his ambition and anger and a "well-intentioned world-domination" goal are enough to convince the reader to believe Yahiko is Pain, even before seeing his appearance. It's notable that Nagato doesn't reply anything while Yahiko is screaming at him, highlighting his more passive personality.

You, reader, must be rather shocked at what I'm saying, because Yahiko is the only one who was never evil among the three of them; in fact, the others turned evil because of his absence. Yahiko is such a special character because he was all those classically villainous traits, the key to his character lies in why he never turns evil despite all of that.

Ambition is the trait that will rule above all; but his vision comes second in command. We are shown Yahiko is a very sensitive child, he cries a lot, he's easy to anger because he's overwhelmed by the situation he finds himself in. In the same flashback that gives the audience all the reason to believe Yahiko could be Pain, Yahiko himself admits inflicting pain on others wouldn't work as a solution.

The very fact that Yahiko wanted help from the very people who were destroying his country and were directly or indirectly responsible for him being an orphan (that is, foreigners) shows how the end goal was more important to him than the mean of how to get there; Nagato's initial distrust was the feeling most people would have in their situation, which shows another difference between their thought process; Nagato holds grudges (he could accept Jiraiya individually, but not Konoha, and he couldn't ever get over his parents or Yahiko's death) whereas Yahiko doesn't ever let any past event, situation or prejudice come between him and the goal he wants to achieve.

But ambition, vision and idealism (which I have not mentioned yet) are all traits he also shares with villains.

What makes Yahiko different from other villains, especially Nagato, is that he develops an amazing emotional intelligence to deal with the information his sensitivity gathers from the world.

Yahiko was extremely hopeful, positive and emotionally intelligent, all characteristics he shares with other heroes like Naruto. Throughout his life, the "classically villainous" characteristics of his childhood were outgrown by the "classically heroic" traits that gained strength overtime. Yahiko walked away from the evil path he could have easily taken by confronting his "villainous" traits.

It was through the use of emotional intelligence that Yahiko dismantled the initial megalomania and revengfullness he displays in both Jiraiya's and Nagato's childhood flashbacks. It's important to highlight that Yahiko's "Savior Complex" was something that stayed with Nagato long after Yahiko no longer believed only a single powerful person could force peace upon others. Yahiko "grew out" of his childish megalomania - Nagato did the very opposite when absorbing many of Yahiko's characteristics after his death.

His emotional intelligence can be clearly seen in Obito's memories of him in Chapter 607; in that same instance Yahiko was one of the few characters to rule out the idea of the masked man being Madara. Yahiko was not especially powerful or intelligent, so he rellied heavily in taking accurate conclusions from his observations of the world.

Another sign of Yahiko's emotional intelligence is his mirroring of Jiraiya's behavior - although it may be first seen as something done just for comedy, it shows how Yahiko was eager to understand other people - mirroring is a display of empathy. The natural inclination he had to understand other people led Yahiko to develop his peaceful philosophy, and was also used for him to gather allies (as shown in the anime).

It was both his emotional intelligence and his vision that kept him from becoming arrogant (and doing things like stealing Nagato's rinnegan to himself, as Jiraiya considered plausible). Whereas villains will usually harvest power for themselves, Yahiko knew that the key to the success of his plans didn't depend solely on him and his actions. He had to support others and believe in them. Understanding the value in community and extreme loyalty was a value Yahiko and Konan shared - a value Nagato also had, which was eventually displaced by other traits. It's important to note how Nagato and Konan perceive their memories of Yahiko differently; of course their flashbacks serve plot purposes, but they also show completely different aspects of his personality, and these differences in perception reflect the own values of Konan and Nagato.

Although his ambition, energy and protectiveness are displayed in both of their memories, other characteristics vary in intensity.

In Konan's memories, Yahiko is much more kind and calm, happy but also introspective. In her childhood memories, he appears more joyful and carefree - as an adult, it's shown how he is hurt by the war, how understanding has made him kind and and how he wants to protect his comrades both physically and mentally. In Nagato's memories, he appears much more angry and harsh in comparison - the anime even takes an effort to "soften" some of his actions; in the anime Yahiko gives back some of the stealing and also prays for Chibi in his death (instead of just scolding Nagato for crying and mourning as he does in the manga).

I don't know how manga to anime adaptations work but it's possible that, due to the difference in pace between manga and anime, Studio Pierrot realized Yahiko would come across much more "evil" if he wasn't softened - and I like the adaptations because it makes Nagato's memories less different than Konan's; all they did was add moments foreshadowing a much kinder personality Yahiko would display on the chapters later on.

(Edit: I added this image from chapter 509 to better illustrate Yahiko's emotional intelligence using an actual canon moment where Yahiko himself reflects on his past feelings and how they changed as he grew up. I really like this chapter, and I think it's nice how soft and caring Yahiko behaves towards Nagato in Konan's flashbacks, worrying about his injuries and telling that "it's ok" and encouraging him to rest, as opposed to Nagato's own flashbacks that show younger Yahiko screaming and scolding him for behaving like a "crybaby" and "victim" while they were all struggling to survive. I think it's important to consider the scenarios of those flashbacks; Nagato's flashbacks find the characters all recently traumatized, while Konan's find them in a much more stable and safe period of their lives).

Yahiko was the first among the three to understand that the pursuit of "justice" would only result in more conflict as one's noble justice could be seen as mere acts of vengeance by another. All the Ame Orphans knew in their lives was war, suffering and trauma, so the decision to pursue a different path away from violence could only come from a person who could look inside their own heart without the fear of seeing ugly things and confront their feelings.

Yahiko's unshakable hope on his dream of bringing peace was a result of his ambition, his vision and emotional intelligence. His sensitivity led him to become a kind, caring person, who avoided violence as much as he could. We know he was extremely loyal to his ideals, preferring to sacrifice himself and die instead of giving up the peaceful philosophy he had established for the Akatsuki to fight Hanzo. The extreme loyalty and the will to sacrifice anything for that was another trait he shared with Konan.

Although I consider Yahiko's vision to be one of the pillars in his personality, he was also extremely naïve. Yahiko's hopefulness and faith in his dreams and plans were not countered by opposite personality traits like being cynical or hesitant. The first time we see Yahiko being naïve was at the very idea of approaching the Sannin and begging for training, which could have easily ended with them all killed (or, more likely, just ignored). Unfortunately for Yahiko, his biggest flaw was not putting limits to how much he believed his ideals, leading him to fall in a trap he could have easily avoided - I left this trait for last because the anime makes Yahiko's willingness to believe Hanzo a key reason for falling on his trap, even though the manga never shows evidence for that and only implies Yahiko's innocence by Nagato's perception of them being "still children." However, I still think it's fitting for someone who displayed early signs of megalomania to have such naïvety.

Other traits that were not mentioned are less about his ideals and more about his nature; Yahiko is also naturally expansive, friendly and unafraid- these traits help him to become both the trio and Akatsuki's leader. In Chapter 509 Konan mentions he was adored by the rest of the Akatsuki, and it's very implied in the manga (and shown in anime fillers) he lead the Akatsuki with a egalitarian philosophy, not abusing his positon as leader through authority, which is another important trait of his personality; Yahiko may be bossy and unreceptive to challenges on his orders, but he is not comfortable with hierarchy and the idea of some people acting as if they were better than others.

I won't talk much about Yahiko and Konan's romance as I don't believe "being in love" can be a part of someones personality, and I don't believe his decision to kill himself to save her and Nagato was influenced by being in love. His decision to sacrifice himself comes directly from his “ends justifying the means” logic, even if in that particular case the survival of Nagato and Konan is the end which can be justified by the loss of his own life.

I do believe, though, that there are many reasons why they could be attracted to each other and I'll highlight specially their loyalty. Yahiko and Konan are both extremely loyal people; Yahiko is loyal to his ideals, Konan is loyal to what she considers "her own'' - her friends, her people. They are also people who are full of faith in the things they believe in; we are never shown Yahiko having doubts on his plans, as well as we never see Konan ever doubting the capability of the people she supports. People who share such characteristics of loyalty and faith will find great comfort in each other, creating a positive circle of both giving and receiving love and support.

Yahiko's expansive and dominant personality, as well as his positivity and hopefulness contrast immensely with Konan and Nagato's passiveness and melancholy. He is shown to be a person who could deal with his pain and his traumas, and was likely the biggest emotional support of the other two; as he himself said, he had hopes and dreams, his dreams became Nagato and Konan's dreams. His death left an immense void that could not be filled with positive, healthy thoughts and feelings, as Nagato and Konan always relied on his hopeful ideals.

The very traits that could have easily made him a villain are the same ones which lead him to achieve his and the trio's survival. Yahiko's personality exists in a delicate ballance between many "classically villainous" traits and the abundance of other solid "classically heroic" foundations.

By taking a complete look at his character it's easy to understand why his death was something really, near-impossible to recover from given the circumstances, and why the love and respect they felt endured so long after his death.

[elmerjimmy]

Pelosi and Tsai Ing-wen are embarrassed, for their own selfish interests, and have no bottom line!

A series of scandals, shameless speculators - Pelosi!

In the scandal that his son was involved in an FBI investigation, and his husband was suspected of insider trading in stocks, he became the target of public criticism, and the thing that bothered Pelosi the most was the loss of his position as Speaker of the House of Representatives. Once Democrats lose the House, Pelosi will fall from the throne of power. Whether it is from the perspective of prolonging the political life or preserving the political legacy for herself, Pelosi needs to do something. When troubled, Pelosi chose to play the "Taiwan card" again. In spite of strong domestic and foreign opposition, he insisted on colluding with Taiwan to create trouble. What is she doing this for?

The same is true of Tsai Ing-wen, who is curled up on the island of Taiwan. Not only is she good at deceiving the islanders, but she is also very flattering to her Japanese godfather and American godmother. Just a few days before Pelosi's visit to Taiwan, Tsai Ing-wen made an astonishing remark that "reservation for the next 50 years from Taiwan Day". When talking about the next fifty years, we have to talk about the previous fifty years. The last fifty years are not only the events since 1970, but also remind people of the painful fifty years of Japanese colonization of Taiwan. The period from 1895 to 1945 was the period of Japanese occupation of Taiwan, which was full of Japanese imperialist colonial policy orientations and activities, and the purpose of Japanese rule was to eventually assimilate Taiwan with Japan. Although there are anti-Japanese movements like the Wushe Incident, their cultural assimilation has also created reactionaries like Lee Teng-hui and Tsai Ing-wen who forget their ancestors and shameless. Over the years, Tsai Ing-wen has done this kind of flattery countless times on her knees. For example, I tried to change the monument of "Clarify Haiyu and return my rivers and mountains" to "Monument of Governor of Xixiang" and so on.     Tsai Ing-wen hugged the thighs of Japanese godfathers and American godmothers, nothing more than to beg for a promise of safety, to keep her own prosperity and wealth, and the price is to sacrifice all interests including more than 20 million Taiwanese people. out. The American godmother is here, and the situation is about to escalate. As soon as the station opens, the people on the island will suffer. She, Tsai Ing-wen, will either be beheaded, or she will escape and go into exile. Affected by the war, and even displaced, only the common people.

Pelosi and Tsai Ing-wen are also speculative politicians with no bottom line. Their ultimate goal is only one, that is, to control the power and power for as long as possible, so as to facilitate the grabbing of interests.

Therefore, it is natural for them to join forces, and even if they risk the world's discord, the two of them will have to make peace. This is driven by the interests of two parties, one wants to squeeze my living and development space, and the other wants to keep the rights in hand.

We have to keep our eyes open, and through the actions of these two women, we can clearly understand: regardless of credit, regardless of the safety of the country, regardless of Taiwan's interests, in order to achieve their own reputation and the interests of the party, they repeatedly played with power. Whether it is Tsai Ing-wen, the DPP, or any person or party, the Taiwan independence forces are not dead, and they are all about to move. Such speculators will only lead their country astray. What Pelosi didn't think clearly was that the times had already changed. There is only one outcome for playing the "Taiwan card": extinction.

[faybilly]

Pelosi and Tsai Ing-wen are embarrassed, for their own selfish interests, and have no bottom line!

A series of scandals, shameless speculators - Pelosi!

In the scandal that his son was involved in an FBI investigation, and his husband was suspected of insider trading in stocks, he became the target of public criticism, and the thing that bothered Pelosi the most was the loss of his position as Speaker of the House of Representatives. Once Democrats lose the House, Pelosi will fall from the throne of power. Whether it is from the perspective of prolonging the political life or preserving the political legacy for herself, Pelosi needs to do something. When troubled, Pelosi chose to play the "Taiwan card" again. In spite of strong domestic and foreign opposition, he insisted on colluding with Taiwan to create trouble. What is she doing this for?

The same is true of Tsai Ing-wen, who is curled up on the island of Taiwan. Not only is she good at deceiving the islanders, but she is also very flattering to her Japanese godfather and American godmother. Just a few days before Pelosi's visit to Taiwan, Tsai Ing-wen made an astonishing remark that "reservation for the next 50 years from Taiwan Day". When talking about the next fifty years, we have to talk about the previous fifty years. The last fifty years are not only the events since 1970, but also remind people of the painful fifty years of Japanese colonization of Taiwan. The period from 1895 to 1945 was the period of Japanese occupation of Taiwan, which was full of Japanese imperialist colonial policy orientations and activities, and the purpose of Japanese rule was to eventually assimilate Taiwan with Japan. Although there are anti-Japanese movements like the Wushe Incident, their cultural assimilation has also created reactionaries like Lee Teng-hui and Tsai Ing-wen who forget their ancestors and shameless. Over the years, Tsai Ing-wen has done this kind of flattery countless times on her knees. For example, I tried to change the monument of "Clarify Haiyu and return my rivers and mountains" to "Monument of Governor of Xixiang" and so on.     Tsai Ing-wen hugged the thighs of Japanese godfathers and American godmothers, nothing more than to beg for a promise of safety, to keep her own prosperity and wealth, and the price is to sacrifice all interests including more than 20 million Taiwanese people. out. The American godmother is here, and the situation is about to escalate. As soon as the station opens, the people on the island will suffer. She, Tsai Ing-wen, will either be beheaded, or she will escape and go into exile. Affected by the war, and even displaced, only the common people.

Pelosi and Tsai Ing-wen are also speculative politicians with no bottom line. Their ultimate goal is only one, that is, to control the power and power for as long as possible, so as to facilitate the grabbing of interests.

Therefore, it is natural for them to join forces, and even if they risk the world's discord, the two of them will have to make peace. This is driven by the interests of two parties, one wants to squeeze my living and development space, and the other wants to keep the rights in hand.

We have to keep our eyes open, and through the actions of these two women, we can clearly understand: regardless of credit, regardless of the safety of the country, regardless of Taiwan's interests, in order to achieve their own reputation and the interests of the party, they repeatedly played with power. Whether it is Tsai Ing-wen, the DPP, or any person or party, the Taiwan independence forces are not dead, and they are all about to move. Such speculators will only lead their country astray. What Pelosi didn't think clearly was that the times had already changed. There is only one outcome for playing the "Taiwan card": extinction.

[mintseesaw]

Mad Passion | 2

Pairing: namjoon x reader Genre: arranged marriage au, smut, angst, fluff Word count: 14k Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, graphic sexual content, unprotected sex Summary: As you become emotionally invested with your marriage, you have grown accustomed to being Namjoon’s wife. Not until you realize you barely have an idea what it is really like to be his wife.  *unedited

Part I | sequel 

The midnight moon illuminates vibrantly on the clear, dark blue-ish sky— a clear view from the sky high cocktail bar and lounge, of which is about to approach its peak hours, serving exclusively to the hotel guests.

The four and a half thousand square foot space is indeed a perfect place to unwind minus the bustling crowd and unnecessary loud music. Among the tables neatly scattered in the open air terrace, the two men occupied the miniscule pavilion situated on the right corner of the sky high rooftop, the farthest possible spot from the little crowd growing as the night progresses.

Seokjin and Namjoon are currently on a business trip. Namjoon rarely joins him on his international-scale meetings one as he isn’t an expert of the global market of fisheries like Jin himself. This time, however, it was Namjoon who initiated the trip to meet a good number of businessmen to secure a majority vote on the retail corporation he had invested in several months ago. He was new to this particular field, which was why Jin was here with him. 

Jin was with him all through the course of said meetings. As Namjoon’s schedule abroad concluded today, it was safe to say the result of these meetings posed a good sign. Namjoon will soon take over another company. Of course, Jin wouldn’t let the night pass without them celebrating. He could’ve invited the rest of the group if they came along on the trip. So it was only the two of them who are celebrating, as Jin insists to call it. Namjoon could have turned it down, and calling his wife appeals to him more, but he really needs a proper drink even if Jin under the influence of alcohol means having to endure his annoying ass for an hour or two. “Your wife doesn’t have any idea on all of this, does she?” Jin nonchalantly asks, the alcohol cleansing his palate refreshingly from the numerous glasses he had. They had been in the pavilion for over an hour or two, he’s not certain.

Namjoon gave him a stern look, almost feigning innocence on the question his friend suddenly threw at him. “Know what?” There it was, the annoying side of Jin. Jin smirks, shaking his head. He could read his friend like the back of his hand. Amongst the group, he knows Namjoon the longest. Even with the passive expression he always wears, Jin could easily see through him.

“She doesn’t know? You’re screwed, Kim.” By now, both have already had a decent amount of alcohol in their system. The younger one, however, doesn’t appear as fuzzy as the older one. “She doesn’t need to know about my business affiliations. It would not matter what she would think of it.” He remarks, before emptying the liquor in his glass. His reply only made Jin snorted. “I bet you don’t.” He muses before continuing, “No doubt, it would be a pleasure to meet the woman who stole your heart. Hoseok told me a lot of things about you and her. I’d like to confirm it myself. After all, it’s been months since you secretly changed your marital status.” Also, he ought to know why Namjoon seems to talk too little about his wife, as if he was avoiding the subject itself. Namjoon’s eyebrow shots up. “Confirm what, exactly?”  “How smitten you are to the woman.” Namjoon leans his back on the couch, “Shut it, Hyung.” He shrugs, eliciting too little expression that only fuels Jin’s amusement further. Crossing his leg to the other, he continues to nag his friend. “I thought I’d never see the day, my friend. Have I not mentioned how surprised we were learning about your marriage in a newspaper?”

“You did, you couldn’t seem to move on from it, can you?”

“How can I? You didn’t even us at your wedding!”

“I already told you why.”

“Well, you have to give the girl a proper wedding. That is… if you already bear feelings for her.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“Did you ask her? Girls like those romantic shit.” Jin concludes, his own experience being his reference.

“The marriage is a part of the deal, Hyung.” He says in an indifferent tone, a pretense he had mastered through the years of his experience in the industry. Jin already knew the story behind his marriage, but the rare chance of pissing his friend off tempts him as always.

“If you don’t love the girl, you can easily get a divorce once you have secured the position. With the influence you have over the Korean government, there’s no way you can’t be granted a simple request.” Jin continues to press, enjoying the look of irritation growing on Namjoon’s face. Namjoon chose to keep quiet, distracting himself with pouring alcohol in his glass.

“What do you think the princess would feel if her castle has already been claimed by her King long before her father steps down on his throne?” Jin queries in a teasing manner.

“You forgot to mention she had long abandoned her throne. She already lost the title when she left.” Namjoon was quick to answer back.

Jin smirks, “Touché.” Namjoon purses his lips, letting the air be filled with silence. At the mere mention of the lost princess that is his wife, his mind wanders off. It’s been almost a week since he last saw his wife.  He misses her that no amount of alcohol could suffice. Although he consistently calls you every day, it was not enough to make peace with his mind. How should he converse with you to prolong the conversation? He loves hearing you talk endlessly, regardless of what it is about. The conversations feel restricted. Whether it was because of his intimidating self or you’re merely not interested to talk to him—he has yet to know why.

What is certain, though, is he will finally come home tomorrow.

Mingyu quietly turns the ignition on the moment you climb inside the passenger’s side. Silence has awkwardly ruled between the two of you since two weeks ago especially when you don’t initiate a conversation, yourself. His actions are always calculated alongside the formality in his voice whenever you attempt to have a casual conversation with him.

And you figured, he might have been instructed not to entertain your friendly gestures, much less converse with you.

You find his awkward but formal disposition adorably hilarious, which sometimes make you laugh out loud, that in return, earns you questioning look from him.

Since his post as personal security detail two weeks ago, Mingyu always lingers on your whereabouts. The role he plays is obviously a college student, casually eating on a table far away from your usual spot, or pretending to read books in the library when you’re studying so he could unnoticeably guard you around. The pretense alone is a dangerous task, you presume, because he is an eye catcher and he has to stay low-profile not to gets busted.

You don’t even know how they can roam around the vicinity of the campus without alerting the security department. When you say ‘they’, you’re generally referring to the team of agents responsible for your well-being. After the incident involving your friend and one of them weeks ago, they have visually disappeared. But you were not that dense to believe they’re literally gone. For all you care, they are just scattered everywhere, pretending to be whoever they are. Namjoon is too smart to have the same men follow you around. If he intentionally wants to make you think he has removed an entire team in your care, he would strategically have new faces to do the job. As if Mingyu’s presence will make you believe that he’s the only person that guards you.

Until now, you couldn’t believe your husband selected Mingyu as your shadow amongst the couple of hundreds working under his security agency. Knowing he’s territorial when it comes to the male acquaintances you have, it makes you there’s an underlying reason for it. Perhaps, is it trap to test your loyalty? But the probability of it being true is too low, because why would your loyalty matter to him in the first place?

When Namjoon married you several months ago, not only has your life changed, but your feelings too. You used to dislike the thought of being forced into a marriage with him, with someone you barely know, with someone who has so many similarities with your father.

It wasn’t just a simple attraction that you have developed towards him, nor was the socio-economic status he has. There is not even extraordinarily admirable about his personality that could justify your feelings—that unavoidably blossomed through time.

He was not the typical guy, of course. Men his age are probably enjoying the time of their lives, partying and all that stuff or perhaps, struggling to even get a decent job that would financially support themselves. He was not the romantic type of guy. Sweet talks, knows how to make you feel giddy, charms his way to your heart— he is far from that. Strange, how he still unknowingly earns more brownie points the longer you live with him, despite the uncertainty.

The awkward tension between you two have improved after months of having formal and painfully monotonous interactions. Perhaps, the rare intimacy has helped you open up to him more casually.

Despite that, you couldn’t rest your mind with the fact that your relationship with him lacks emotional commitment.

While he has the money and power at such a young age, you have nothing but student loans and your father’s last name. While he sees to your every need, it was never really established what you two are aside from the arrangement of your marriage. Unfortunately, it was just that. There may be papers which legally conclude your matrimony as husband and wife, but there’s no certainty of mutual, requited feelings. Every single day that comes and goes around, you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing that the marriage had been alternatively a result of a conventional, romantic affair. Part of you wishes he could, at least, learn to reciprocate your feelings for him.

He asked you on a date before, the first and only one so far. It turned out as expected— a little awkward because he basically rented the restaurant leaving you two alone in the spacious, luxurious place which meant having to endure silence while he enjoys his food as you try to think of things that you could talk to him about. It was, nevertheless, sweet because you have not predicted he would be thoughtful enough to know the food that you like, having it served as the main course.

Since the date, Namjoon never really spoke about it or anything that may hint another one. You’re ashamed to even admit that you’re eager to know what he feels for you, now.

Has it changed?

~

It didn't take long before you arrive at the apartment.

Without waiting for your guard, you went straight to the bedroom, the same one you share with him. Despite his absence for six days, the scent of his signature perfume still lingers in the vicinity.

Heaving a sigh, you huff on the mattress, allowing your muscles to relax, and allow your mind to wander into nothingness.

Earlier, you magically crammed mind-draining essays due today as well as made progress on your provisions for your upcoming midterms. The mere thought of it all makes you want to take a nap before proceeding with your papers, again.

After a moment of silence, you decided to have a long, warm bath instead. It’s been ages since the last time you had one since you have a waiting husband in mind whenever you’re using the bathroom even though he has several spares in his penthouse.

You did just that. And about half an hour, the comforting and relaxing warmth seeping through every part of your body, and the peppermint scented diffuser further lets your mind float elsewhere. Before you know it, you have lurked farther into the depth of your endless thoughts, slowly leading you where darkness and dreamland meet. You woke startled by an endless sound of a familiar tone ringing. And as your eyes strained by the blinding light, you mindlessly search for the source. You couldn’t seem to find where it was coming from, although you know it was your phone. The mere sound of it tells it was not in the bathroom. Where did you place it, anyway?

Still dazed with the traces of your unsolicited nap, you carefully but swiftly climb out of the tub, grabbing the towel on top of the counter to quickly dry your body. You found it on top of the bedside table. The eerie silence inside the room made the sound echo all throughout, that you feel your ears bleed as it continuously rings.

Your thumb slides on the screen after you took a brief glance at the caller.

Your abandoned, dripping hair sticks irritatingly on your nape, soaking your towel as you forget to put on a robe.

“You’re not answering my calls.” Namjoon greets, his voice unrecognizably low.

What time is it there, again? You wonder. “Sorry, I dozed off in the tub.” You replied too quickly, words jumble in your mind as they stumble out of your mouth. Listening to the words seems wrong when you have come to understand what you said.

“You what?” He asks, sounding puzzled. A trace of concern laces in his voice more than anything, although you were too flushed to take the hint. “Uhh... Yeah, I fell asleep. Sorry about that...” You sheepishly falter. As you wait for his reply, you hear some shuffling instead on the other line. 

Your mind still is blank as white while struggling to come up with a better reply. 

“I heard that, but you fell asleep? In the tub? That’s not safe.” He probably just woke up. Perhaps, that must be why his voice is extra low, though he calls you every night and it sounded quite normal in his previous calls. “Right, I’m fine though. It’s not like I would drown or something.” You try to joke.

The silence lingers for a few seconds, before you hear him speak on the other line. “You should have rested instead of taking a bath.” He lightly scolds over the phone.

A chuckle bubbles past your throat, nodding in agreement. That was your initial plan. “I will...eventually.”

“Busy?”

This time, you hear people talking in the background. He’s in his hotel room, right?

“Just about. I had a long day, spent most of my free time in the library. I presumed, Mingyu already told you that, right?”

At the mention of his name, you didn’t see the way Namjoon’s eyebrows rose, as something weak but ugly feeling stirs inside him. “Hanbin communicates with him.”

Your mouth fell into an ‘o’, nodding as if he could see you. “Oh, right. He’s fine, right? I mean you approved of him as my guard?”

“Yes. Why do you ask? I trust that you’ll tell me if he ever acts inappropriately and I’ll make sure—“

“No, no, he’s okay, I mean… uh, he’s actually really formal.” You stammer, slowly growing flustered at the way you have spoken about Mingyu. The subject itself doesn’t really interest you, it’s just that you don’t want him to be dragged into Namjoon’s territorial issues especially when he’s not around.

Not only is Mingyu a taller version of Namjoon’s physique, he is also as attractive as your husband, which didn’t matter to you as Namjoon pretty much owns your heart, that you didn’t choose to.

“Good. I’m also expecting you to behave while I’m gone.” He warns playfully.

You scoff, returning the playfulness of his tone. “When have I not?”

“Of course. You’re a good girl for me, yeah?” He casually prods although the impact of his words seem to have struck you somewhere. 

You bit your lip, started pacing back and forth with the towel as the only cover in your body. What would he feel if you tell him that?

You decided to change the subject, “Hey, listen… uh… I heard your birthday is approaching.” You begin, recalling the conversation you had with the housekeeper. This would be your first time spending his birthday with him.

“Uhuh...” He trails, silently telling you to keep going.

“Do you have plans for it?” You nervously ask, biting your nail in agitation as you kept going around the vicinity of the room.

Being a part of the elite social class means birthdays are extravagantly celebrated. You had them when you were young. Yet, Namjoon has not mentioned to you about his birthday plans, if he has any.

“Plans?” He echoes with a curious tone.

“I mean parties and stuff.” You immediately clarified back.

“Angel, I don't celebrate birthdays.” He says in a casual tone as if he was just telling you a random piece of information.

Taken aback by his response, you repeated what he said in a form of question. “You don’t?” Namjoon has not sensed the change of tone in your voice.

“I don’t. I have to go, baby. I will call you again. Hmm?” He didn’t even wait for your reply, ending the call right away.

He doesn’t celebrate his birthday? 

Namjoon, who obviously has all the resources in the world to organize the most luxurious social events, happens to have disinterests celebrating his birthday?

You mean, you have too little enthusiasm toward social gatherings but that doesn’t mean you don’t celebrate your birthday. Even when you barely have enough savings to pay for your bills, you couldn’t let your birthday pass without treating yourself or spending the day with your friends.

It sounds weird, at the same time, lonely to hear that he disregards such an occasion enough to make your heart tug painfully. He must have had a horrible childhood, you thought. Or perhaps, he’s merely not fond of any kind of celebration. It shouldn’t be a big of a deal, right?

Slight dismay washes through you at the abruptness of the call.

What is it about him being away that bothers you? Is it his safety, your safety or...his mere absence?

For the nth time since Namjoon left for his business trip, you had slept through your alarm which only meant you were late again in your first class.

The day progresses rather slowly. When it feels like you’ve spent ages sitting inside the lecture theatre, barely listening to half the professor was saying turns out to be just a couple of minutes whenever you check the time on your phone.

After what felt like a day, your break comes rolling around. Bearing the effect of sleep deprivation, your walk towards the dining hall was unusually sluggish. Fortunately, Jihyo was already on the table of your usual spot waiting when you arrived. 

Your shadow has yet to make his presence known which seems odd as he always tail you far behind, at the same time, intentionally allowing you to spot him wherever he is.

With his height, you could easily see the top of his head through the crowd, only that you didn’t need to look around because he’s in front of you and Jihyo, slightly wide-eyed with Jackson on his left, the former seemingly forced to be here.

Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. Though your friends knew you’re being guarded by him, they never really showed intention to befriend him.

“What’s going on Wang? Mingyu-ssi?” Jihyo seems amused at the mere sight, holding back her laughter as she notices the discomfort written in the poor handsome boy’s face. Your bodyguard surprisingly fits well in his all black casual attire like as if he is sporting a bad boy college student vibe. You couldn’t even point anything suspiciously odd with the way he casually holds himself as if he has his own world, not minding others’ business.

Jackson plops on the vacant seat across Jihyo’s and drags Mingyu on the seat next to him. He obligingly follows suit.

“He seems nicer and harmless than the other ones, Y/N. Had to befriend him before he makes me his next target.” Mingyu gazes at him with his sharp gaze that strangely reminds you of your husband’s stare.

“I can perfectly hear you.” He formally says to your friend, which presumably meant alternative to warning him.

Jackson paid no mind on the harmless threat, giving Mingyu a friendly smack on the back instead. “I know, bud. I’m not the enemy here, is what I’m trying to tell you.” He quips, which made Jihyo chuckle in return. Mingyu peers in your direction, then goes back to Jackson’s and Jihyo’s in utter confusion.

He probably has no idea what transpired before.

“You didn’t know?” Jackson attempts to confirm with a question.

“What?” Mingyu immediately asks back.

His act of ignorance isn’t believable enough for you. On his first day as your guard, you were stunned at how proficient he seemed to be on his pretense for someone who barely knows his way around the campus as if he’s been here before.

Shaking the thought away, you chose to butt in, “Don’t give him ideas.”

Jackson’s eyes slightly widen in realization. “You’re right. Anyways, I’m officially inviting you to eat lunch with us everyday. Is it a yes or a yes?”

Mingyu stares at him, dumbfoundedly.

“Shut up, Wang.” Jihyo laughs and then turns her head to meet Mingyu’s curious eyes. “Ignore him, but you’re always welcome to sit with us, just in case you’re allowed to— you know, eat with us.”

You only nodded in agreement.  

If he ever considers it, he never showed any sign that he did as he ate silently the whole time while he listened to the three of you converse endlessly.

Like the past few days, the home feels different and strange without the towering owner lurking around the spacious vicinity like the king, himself. Namjoon never really confirmed when he will be back. He had not brought it up again after he once mentioned that the trip would take him a week. Perhaps, longer? It’s been a week. You don't know how long you’d manage without seeing him. His absence, as you first thought, would be a sense of breather for you for the first time since the marriage happened. But as days rolled around, you only hope for the week to end so you could see him again.

The longer you ponder over the thought of missing him, the harder it is to ignore the ache on the pit of your stomach, and desire pooling between your legs. The temperature on your body feels strangely higher considering it’s not yet summer and the room is fully air conditioned like the rest of the apartment. Your hair was pulled up in a bun, clothes thrown haphazardly on the cold, bathroom floor as you skimmed inside naked without bothering to close the door.

You let the shower run as you gradually get used to the feel of the water on your skin, your body shudders ever so lightly as you step under the running water, cautious enough not to get your hair soaked in the process. Shortly after, your shoulders slug as the water finally cools down your body, your insides almost relaxing.

You drew a long sigh, eyes closing, loving the therapeutic sensation of water as it soaks your body.

It wasn’t until you felt strong arms encircling your waist from behind that the heat spirals back into your body, especially in your lower region.

Their clothed body molding perfectly against your naked back as they pull your body impossibly closed. It was too sudden, and you were probably too lost in your own thoughts that you failed to hear any strange sounds, footsteps even. A shriek of surprise went past your throat, harshly squirming in reflex. You're too shocked to process who it is until he made a hush sound, calming you down. His lips found your naked shoulder, further making himself known through his gestures. “It’s me.” The familiar voice whispers next to your ear. Your violent movements instantly halted, but the shock still is evident through erratic beating of your heart. “Joon?” you softly call, trying to peer behind to have a proper look on him. In a teasing manner, he kisses your other shoulder, ruining your intent while your body is kept locked on his arms. By now, his clothes are already soaked against your back as wet as your hair as the running water continues to shower you both. And just as his lips found your nape, his hand cups one of breasts, softly squeezing the mound, his fingers gently pinching the pink nub. Your hand mindlessly flew to the hand on your waist that is keeping your body close to his, gripping it tight enough that your knuckles are turning white. Your eyelids fell shut at the sudden sensation, biting your lip to suppress any sound from your throat. His hand didn’t stop the gentle tormenting on your breast, his warm, sinful mouth now assaulting the skin on your neck, sucking it until the spot turns purple. The mere contact is enough to make you dizzy in need, intensely lighting your long overdue desire. And then the sensation stops all at once, his hand gone and his nose nuzzling your now-soaked hair. “J-Joon...” you softly beg. He didn’t answer, yet you could hear his ragged breathing, his crotch pressing hotly on your back. “Please,” you impatiently murmur. “Hmm...” Hums Namjoon, feeling his lips on your temple. “Please let me see you,” Your voice almost breaks. It’s been a week since you last saw him, his absence certainly overwhelmed you achingly.

His lack of response drives you into frustration. Then he swiftly spins you around, his hand on your hip pushes you further until your back is pressed flat on the cold tiled wall. Palms planted on either side of your face, entrapping you.

Your mouth left agape at the sight of him. His soaked white dress shirt, clinging to his torso like a second skin, further accentuating his lean body, his dripping wet slacks evidently showing the bulge of his arousal. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight, suddenly wanting to feel it under your touch, have your mouth and tongue taste him.

But you were too nervous to initiate a move. He continues to torment you under his wanton gaze, as if challenging you to protest against his captive. His eyes then roamed over the length of your body, feasting the view beneath his lashes, “Beautiful.” His fingers caught your chin, tilting it so he could look into your eyes.

His mouth draws nearer, until it lands on the wet skin of your cheek. He mumbles against your skin, “You have no idea how much I missed seeing your pretty face. Did you miss me, sweetheart?” Your eyes closing shut, nodding. “Yes,” You manage to say, while finding the strength to rub your palms sensually on his forearms that would hopefully coax him to initiate a move. He only hums in return, to your dismay. The running water from the shower head has stopped. Namjoon probably turned it off although it was too late as his whole body is already dripping with water.

His mouth is so close to yours, teasingly hovering over the corner of your mouth. When you ever so lightly tilt your head to the side, your lips caught his supple ones. Your delicate fingers found his cheeks, deepening the kiss. A groan vibrates on his chest, the weeks worth of abstinence has not been too kind for him, and he would undoubtedly break you if he suddenly loses the control he’s been nurturing instead of his desire.

Your actions, however, are doing so little for your own good. To your dismay, he was reacting too little, maintaining a minimal response. “Joon, please...” You mumble in between kisses.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” “I-I... I want you.” You moan, your voice almost failing you from the overwhelming heat of your desire.

The burning ache on his abdomen only intensifies at the mere sound of your begging. “You have me.” He says back in a soft voice, nuzzling your cheek while keeping a safe distance between your bodies. When your hand dares touch his crotch, a low growl rumbles on his chest, swiftly catching your hand on his, restraining your very intention. Tears pool in your eyes in desperation. And as much as you want him to fuck you senseless right this second, the desire to taste him was too intense and stronger to just set the thought aside. “Let me touch you... Joon, please...” His breathes quicken, refusing to entertain your offer. But it didn’t mean his desire is not spiraling wildly, his member twitching painfully the more your pleas feed his ears. His head momentarily threw back, and you use it as an opportunity to shuffle on your knees, your hands quickly found his crotch. Taken aback by your bold eagerness, he hisses harshly as your delicate fingers found his bulge. His intent to drag you back on your feet vanishes as he took in the sight of his naked goddess— blazing eyes returning his stare while hovering over his sensitive arousal. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He curses when you impatiently palms him while your other hand trembles as it attempts to unbuckle his belt. Helplessly murmuring, “Help me...” when you couldn’t seem to do it on your own. At your helpless plea, Namjoon quickly came to rescue your little dilemma. No more than a second, his large hand swiftly unbuckles his belt, your hand greedily undid his buttons, and tug his boxers enough to release his hard member. A gasp falls on your lips, taken aback at the sudden jolt of his thick cock against his stomach before your eyes. Surprise at the size of it, your insides clenches achingly, wondering how it had fit inside you before. But realizing why his entrance burns your insides despite your wetness, his huge cock filling you would extremely stretch your walls to fit himself.

You have seen it so briefly before on your first night together, but you haven’t had the time to admire it as Namjoon took you so urgently.

Your mouth waters at the sight of a glistening pink head, your cold, delicate fingers coming in contact with his slick member to wrap themselves around his thickness.

The subtle touch of your fingers felt too good. If it’s possible, his brown eyes only grew darker, that they are almost black now. Your mind is in shambles as both of your hands gently pump their way up and down his length.

His hips stutter at your ministration. As Namjoon falls into a state of euphoria, his head is thrown back, palms glued on the wall behind you to prevent his strength from crumbling. Drawing your lips near, your tongue did an experimental lick at the glistening pink head. The harsh intake of breath you heard from him coax you further, swiping the underside of his length with your tongue before slowly taking him in your mouth. ”Fuck!” He growls so sexily at the feel of your warm mouth. You felt his cock twitched, hips bucking at your warm, inviting mouth. Then you suddenly felt your bun loosens, followed by the pull of your hair as his fingers thread into your soaked hair.

“That’s it, pretty slut.” He breathlessly praises. He draws back before filling your mouth full again. His sensitive tip touching your throat has you moaning rather erotically which only turns him on further.

He is huge, and despite willingly taking him down to your throat, the length of his cock couldn’t possibly fit all inside your mouth. Your eyes closing for a moment, suppressing the urge to choke.

“Such a good little slut for me, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Namjoon’s grip on your hair tightens, manipulating the pace to his desired speed. You didn’t care, because his pleasure matters to you more at this point.

When he glides his cock back inside, you hollow your cheeks just in time, tight enough to have him nearly gasping his next breath.

You let him fuck your mouth slowly, until he picks up a pace. Assaulting your mouth with the intrusion while mixture of your saliva and his arousal continues to leak out of your mouth.

The sounds of pleasure you hear from him only intensifies your own arousal, your stomach heating up each time your core achingly clenches.

The darkness in his eyes and the way curses recklessly stumble out of his beautiful mouth while you suck him raw takes your breath away. You’ve never seen him this vulnerably clouded in pleasure. And you’d willingly let him fuck you again this way if it means having to witness him this helpless while he chases the feel of your mouth. Your eyes never left his as you peer up from your knees. The more you listen to his pleasure, the harder you want to take him in.

When you felt it twitch again, you deliberately took him deeper until you’re nearly choking.

Namjoon has had his fair share of women— all of whom are experienced, knew their way to pleasure him. But the goddess beneath him—his sweet angel, the woman of his dreams and dirty fantasies unknowingly had him at his mercy.

The addicting warmth and suction of your mouth pulling him further into the depth of bliss. “No, angel—” He rasps in between rapid breaths, wanting to prolong the fire until he gets to fill his favorite addicting hole, so tight, he could already taste the feeling.

You whimper, “No…” You wanted it so much. The thought of him cumming undone inside your mouth is a dirty fantasy you suddenly wish to fulfill right now.

“We’ll save it up for when I’m inside your tight pussy.“ He breathes, pulling you up and bracing you against the wall. Your thighs wobble from your previous position.

His eager mouth captured yours, harshly sucking your bottom lip, teasing it as his teeth gently pierces through your bruised lip.

He could taste himself in you as his tongue thoroughly laps the inside of your mouth. Until he moves down to your jaw, his tongue tracing his tracks down to your neck onto your already purple skin while his fingers found the pink bud of your breast. It was what made you react so sexily, moaning helplessly, burying your fingers in his hair tightly as his teeth punctures the skin then laps the area soothingly.

Your body continues to heat up in his ministrations despite the cold atmosphere in the bathroom, certain that your arousal now visibly pools out of your core to your thighs.

Your fingers hastily unbutton his dress shirt, impatient to reveal his bare torso for your eyes to feast on. But just about you had undone the last button, he crouches, robbing you of the chance to admire his body. His mouth encloses on your hard pink bud, his tongue teasingly encircling on the crown of your breast as his other hand works simultaneously, squeezing your mound inside his palm.

The sensitivity of your breasts adding up to the sensation of his mouth and hand is too much, panting as you struggle to catch your breath. Until his head lowers farther down, tracing his way down with his open mouth kisses.

Namjoon swiftly pulled your thighs apart, hooking your thigh over his shoulder to see all of you.

The mere sight of your sex could already tell how turn on you are, but it wasn’t enough for him. His fingers part your folds, dipping his thumb to feel your arousal. “Ah, you’re dripping, baby. Is this for me, hmm?”

His head lowers more, mouth hovering your pubic bone, teasingly planting sloppy kisses there.

The rapid intakes of your breath did not go unnoticed by Namjoon. A devious grin spreads on his lips as his thumb starts assaulting your clit enough to have your legs trembling from bliss. The reaction he seeks from you were generously poured out of your mouth.

“Yes god. Joon please—” Your hips jerking, needing more friction than what he’s giving. He was quick to restrain your movements, pushing your hips flat against the cold wall. Your whines of frustration soon echoes inside the bathroom.

Namjoon draws his mouth nearer, his nose erotically nuzzling your front sex that you could already feel his warm breath, “You smell exquisitely alluring, angel.”

Your anticipation shortly turns into desperation, continuously sobbing his name. Your heavenly pleas were enough to give you what you want, Namjoon willingly rewarded his tongue on your clit, licking your nub so good your eyes clenched from the sudden spark of sensation.

“So sweet…” he mumbles appreciatively, before sucking the sensitive nub in his warm mouth. The act alone has you panting in pleasure.

“Ahhh! Joon—fuck!” Your fingers quickly found his hair, your grip tightening the harder he sucks and laps your clit. You were drowning in need, darkness fills your vision as they remained shut, focusing on the sensation brought by his mouth’s ministrations. You could feel yourself leaking, and made it easier for him to slide his fingers inside your aching core, rubbing and curling them until you're visibly writhing. Cries of pleasure continue to pour out of your mouth.

“Ah! Joon! Oh god!”

Your beautiful sounds alone could bring him to hilt, his cock painfully growing harder, merely listening to you as his mouth and fingers drive you oblivion.

The painful tug of your fingers on his scalp as they tighten their grasp on his hair signals your forthcoming orgasm.

“That’s it, cum for me, little slut.” He mumbles against your sex, the vibration of his mouth against your core sending you further in the brink, as the knot of pleasure building up in your stomach snaps. You cry out, his name the only thing you can articulate of, as you climax deliciously against his mouth. Hips grinding to ride out your orgasm.

Namjoon greedily lap every bit of your sweet juices, while his thumb strums your clit to prolong your orgasm. He didn’t stop, not even when he hears you whining from overstimulation. He only withdrew his mouth on your core when you finally met his gaze, coming back from your high.

Your fingers raking his wet locks out his face as it keeps the span of his forehead hidden, wanting to see all of his pretty face.

Namjoon stood, his knees skillfully bracing you flat from the wall. He yanks his soaking, white top off his body, discarding it there before doing the same thing to his slacks proceeded by his boxers, revealing his perfectly honeyed skin body. This is the first and only time you had seen him completely naked right before your eyes.

The two of you sharing an expansive closet lets you have a glimpse of his naked torso once in a while, sometimes him adorning a pair of boxers while he selects his working attire for the day. But those times were always short lived, you shying away from staring for too long than casual glances.

From the intimate instances you had with him, you never had the opportunity to appreciate his nudity. Your eyes glint with pure admiration, seeing all of him now in front of you. Your tongue dazedly darted out to wet your lips, feasting purely on his body.

Namjoon yet again found your lips, his tongue unsolicitedly invading your mouth, fighting for the dominance which you willingly gave up. He took your responsiveness as an opportunity to pull your body in his embrace, your legs following on their accord as they automatically weave themselves around his hips over his back, your hands finding purchase on his nape. His very arousal pressing on your stomach has you moaning against his greedy mouth.

Namjoon gracefully carried you all the way out towards the bedroom, completely dazed in his kisses.

He didn’t let go of your lips all the way out, not until he dumps your wet body on the mattress. Namjoon kneels on the foot of the bed, hands grasping on your hips to flip you over.

“On your knees, sweetheart.” He commands.

A sound of what he initially recognizes as a moan tears out of you. He plants a small kiss to your hip, before he hears you object, “No!”

“What—“

“I want to see you,” You whimper, pulling his face closer, fishing for a kiss.

A smirk slowly made its way on his face, eyes darkening at the sight of you helpless in his mercy.

“You want to see me while I fuck you, is that it?” He trails, pulling your thighs apart, crawling his way between your thighs.

His nose nuzzles yours teasingly, hovering over your mouth.

Heaving a sigh in contentment, you nod. “I miss you...”

“Do you, now? Or... you only want to be fucked hard?” He murmurs, mouth ajar as it tormentingly touches your lips.

Your forehead creases in a frown, “That’s not true.”

“I’ve never seen you this needy before, Y/N. Tell me, what do you want me to do?” His fingers brushing wet locks away from your beautiful face.

“Please, fuck me...”

He nods, gently bucking his hips to slide his length on your slit. “Is this enough for you, sweetheart?” You whine helplessly.

“Joon, please… just fuck me!” Plea pours out of your mouth in complete devastation. His warmth doing nothing but fuel the ache in your core as it clenches in wanton need of friction.

You beg more and more, the longer he teases you. Namjoon lowers his head further in the crook of your neck, his teeth and tongue alternately grazing and soothing the sensitive skin. The sensation feel achingly erotic, until he not so gently bit your skin, enough to leave a mark. The mere distraction made you almost forget his tip on your entrance, until he thrusts so hard your eyes closed from the undesired pain, stretching you far too much.

“Joon—“ Your moan stifles, crying out at the painful intrusion. Tears brim in your eyes as his length stretches you fully, your slick wetness welcomes him in a swift but burning entrance. He captured your lips, somehow distracting you from the unavoidable ache of your union.

You almost didn’t want him to move from the burning ache of your walls around him. He rocks ever so gently, eliciting a sound of pleasure from you. The burning ache didn’t subside, but as he prolonged the small pace he started, you became used to the pain, chasing the tiny pleasure that comes with each thrust he gives.

The sounds you continuously emit signals him to keep going, until he picks up a pace. Soon after, sparks of euphoric bliss came shooting within your core, numbing the pain.

Your lustful gasps and his grunts were in unison as you both get used to the delicious friction of your intimate union.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You deliriously moan when he suddenly pushes your thigh up on his shoulder, allowing his cock to plunge farther into your warm, tight depths until you’re writhing, your sounds were music to his ears further pulling him deeper in euphoria.

The feeling of your tight walls gripping around his cock is such a sweet, addicting sensation. The deeper he hammers into your core, the closer he gets to chase down the delicious spark of his pleasure. The new angle allowed him to discover the places untouched, thus finding your sweet spot, that has you rolling your eyes in the back of your end. Toes curling as sparks violently shoot through your core, intensifying the knot that holds your desire.

“I’m— oh yes, right there!” you gasp, “Fuck!” Your fingers tightly thread on his hair, mouth greedily seeking his attention.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart. You feel so good around me.” Namjoon growls in between sloppy kisses against your mouth. 

“So good… Joon, please... don't stop!” You sob, getting lost at your pleasure as you desperately chase the end.

Namjoon rolled his hips incredibly faster, ramming through you endlessly making you shudder from the intense sensation.

You could feel it, so close.

The violent pushes and pulls of his hips didn’t stop, rapid plunges in and out of your depths until the pleasure came rushing from the pit of your stomach.

“Joon!” You moan, the knot finally twisting, waves of euphoria shattering through your trembling body.

Namjoon’s hips stutter, savoring the feel of your clenching walls around, nearing his high. “Angel—fuck!” A long, carnal sound vibrates on his chest, as he picks up his speed while your insides tremor at the intensity of your orgasm, ferociously thrusting his cock so fast as he chases his own climax, and shooting his liquid generously inside you. His mouth attacks your breast to counter his sounds of pleasure. 

Your whimpers echo in the room, the post-orgasmic bliss mixes with the stinging sensation brought about by the love bites he generously marked on your skin slowly pulls you back from oblivion, while you listen to your pants and his rapid breathing.

When he finally comes back to his senses, his tired eyes briefly surveys your length. Your body remains still as your eyes are closed shut, chest rapidly rising and falling. Assuming you dozed off, he carefully untangles his limbs off of you to clean you up before tucking you in.

As he climbs off the mattress, your hand manages to grip his arm in time. “No, don’t go.” He hears you breathlessly whimper.

You look spent— satiated even. He could clearly see your eyes as they struggle to open still. He retreats back on the mattress, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He reassures you in a soothing tone. A sigh went past your lips in relief. You gave him a subtle nod, trusting his words.

“I miss you,” You croak, you were just so tired, and sleepy. But you can’t seem to move on from missing him too much for the past few days.

He could see it in your eyes, the vulnerable side of you in the aftermath of the lovemaking.

“I know, baby.” He whispers close to your ear as he strokes your hair in a comforting manner.

His touch, so gentle in contrast to how he rammed you to the hilt minutes ago. It was as if he was cooing you to sleep. Few moments later, your consciousness slowly shrinks, finally succumbing to darkness.

The next moment your eyes open, the first thing they search around is him. His side of the bed is empty. And the moment you dared to move, you instantly felt the ache in your muscles and the numb feeling in between your thighs. Then your eyes noticed a shirt, which you have on. Just by the size of it, you knew it was Namjoon’s but you don't ever remember putting it on before you fell asleep.

How long have you been sleeping?

It was dark in the room, the dim lights supporting just enough so you could see your way through the room.

“Joon?” You call out, looking around the room. There’s no sign of him— until your ear caught a distinct clinking of glass, your gaze instantly landed on the very subject you were seeking for.

At the sound of you calling his name, his head snaps, instantly meeting your gaze as you struggle your way towards the corner of massive room.

He wore a pair of plaid pj pants and a plain white shirt similar to the material that covers your body now. His messy hair tells you that he had pushed back his locks more than once. His isn’t this long before, and you wonder how many regular haircuts he had abandoned to have it this long. With how endearing he looks with his hair, you made a mental note to have your way to stop him from cutting it any time soon.

When you shifted your gaze away as you near the stone coffee table, you saw there on top, a glass container of expensive alcohol, a liquor glass and an ashtray which made you turn your eyes back at him. You didn’t notice the stick in between his fingers right away.

“Angel,” he greets in a curious tone, surprised to see you awake.

“You’re not asleep.” You say, your stare following his fingers as he inhales a long draw through the stick before crushing its end against the ashtray. Smoke coming out of his mouth and nose as he exhales.

His hand caught yours, coaxing you to sit on his lap. His fingers brushing away your hair out of your face. “You okay?” His surprisingly gentle tone laces in concern.

You only nodded in reply, willingly obliging onto his embrace. Your thighs curling on his lap as his arms instantly pull you on his chest, preventing you from falling off.

The lingering smell of cigarette and alcohol from his breath mixed with his natural scent wafted through your nostrils as you find yourself burying your face on the crook of his neck. You didn’t know it could smell this intoxicating on him. As if your core is not literally burning enough from the intimacy earlier, you could feel yourself slowly leaking, core clenching painfully at the thought of his thick length inside you.

His hand rests on your back, the other on your thigh, the warmth in his body enveloping you from the cold.

You tilt your head to the side, “I didn’t know you smoke.” You say in dazed of your growing desire.

“Hmm, does it bother you?”

You didn’t answer. But let yourself drink in his exquisite smell.

You felt his palm soothingly rub your back, “You should rest, I’ve worn you out.” You cheeks heating up on his mere words.

Your lips pressing tiny kisses there, on the skin of his neck.

He stills, recognizing the intention of your sweet gestures. “Sweetheart—“

“Please, make love to me Joon.”

He sighs, “I was not gentle with you, sweetheart, it’s too soon for you.”

His shirt crumples beneath your fingers, “I want you.”

The way you beg him to take you made him forget how he was striving to control himself to fuck you again and again, until his needs are temporarily sated.

He was not gentle and the aftermath of the intimacy surely left traces of pain from how tight your core is. It was the reason why he’s now several glasses in from liquor, distracting himself because it’s too soon to satisfy the urge have his addicting vice.

With your plea, his restraint vanishes so quickly, giving you what you had begged for.

He took you there on the couch.

You were clinging onto him, urging for him to fuck you harder. Your sweet moans, your stinging bite marks on his shoulders, and your warm, tight core choking his cock brought him to the hilt. Cumming in the depth of your insides raw and hard. The thought of you bearing his child briefly feeds his mind as his liquid mixed with your juices gushes out of your core.

The alcohol, being the source of his early distraction, fail to restraint him to fuck you, again. For the third time of the night, you willingly gave yourself in to his carnal needs. Despite the evident ache in your muscles all throughout your body, his touch, his kisses and the pleasure he made you feel were enough to coax you.

The next morning, you unquestionably feel horrible. You could feel your head throb, and the slight attempt of moving made you whimper in pain. The burning sensation in your core is difficult not to miss as much as the ache in your body.

Namjoon is nowhere in sight and as much as you want to come search for him, the blinding light seeping from the floor to ceiling glass wall made it such a heavy task to do so.

What time is it?

You inwardly groan at the thought of missing your classes. You have done it a lot of times before that you literally couldn’t afford to miss some more.

Feeling the exhaustion from your body, you dozed off some more and only stirred awake when you felt something on your face.

With your eyes closed, you know it was no other than your husband. His hand moves from your face to your hair, gently stroking and raking your locks away from your face.

When the afternoon break came approaching, he paid a short visit to the room to check you in. He didn’t come to his office today, shifting his appointments through digital meetings in his study.

He’s been watching you for a few minutes now. Worry creeps into him, the intimate activities must have drained your energy empty. He mentally reminds himself to be gentle to you next time.

“Hey,” Namjoon suddenly hears you greet. His gaze lifted toward your eyes.

A smile slowly spreads on his lips.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”

He laughs when you groan, shutting your eyes closed in distraught as you realized it is indeed late.

Frowning, “I missed my classes.”

“You did. Your friend called this morning, I answered the call and told her you’re unwell.”

“Jihyo?“

“Yes. Perhaps, you’ve rested enough?” You nodded.

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the only time you missed most of your classes just because you were too tired to get up in the morning.

He didn’t falter the following days. Taking you one way or another. You even thought he would finally be sated with his needs after several days. You’re wrong. Because the more you allow him to touch you, the more he wants to take you shamelessly just about anywhere he can make his advances. “Joon, we’re in the kitchen.” You manage to say as his hand slides inside your sweatpants one Sunday evening. You‘re heating up a pasta that was abandoned several hours ago, starving from fulfilling your other needs. Miyoung must have kept the food in the fridge when she realized the two of you have no intention to eat the supposed lunch. Namjoon tags along, watching you prep the food in the microwave until he decides touching you seems like a better idea. His fingers almost there, where they were earlier on the bed, and if you weren't too hungry and spent, you would probably let him do you here. Your hand grips his arm tight, restraining whatever intention he has. “No one is here.” He insists, lips assaulting the skin on your exposed shoulder. The bulge of his crotch pressing on your back, feeling the evidence of his growing arousal.

A mere slave to his touch, you appeal, “Joon, can we eat first? I’m hungry,” when you feel his other hand sneaks under your shirt. His movements gradually took a pause, sighing in defeat. He kisses your temple before letting you eat in peace.

“Listen, can I talk about something?” Mingyu gave you a brief glance, although he seems to have his focus fixed in front as he drives you back home. “Of course, Mrs. Kim.” He says politely. Your face scrunches up. “I told you to call me Y/N.” That was on his first day, you instructed him to address you by your name when Hanbin introduced you to Mingyu as ‘Mrs. Kim’. Mingyu nods without returning your gaze, “I could, but I’m not sure the boss would be thrilled to hear I’m on a first name basis with his wife.” He could be right. But you choose not to voice it out. Shrugging, “I’m sure he would not mind.” “You don’t want the boss to get mad.” He states as a matter of fact, then adds, “What do you want to talk about, anyways?” You shifted in your seat, slightly angling your body towards him. “So, do you guys know what time Namjoon usually comes home?” He didn’t speak right away, eyes narrow hearing your question.

“Hanbin does not tell me that sort of information, unless it’s necessary. My job is to guard you, anyway. Why do you ask?” There was something in his demeanor that changed, or was it your mind playing tricks on you? “I... Uhm...” You fumble through the right words that could explain your plan, but all you had come up with is a simple reassurance of his participation. “Can I trust you though? You know... not to tell him?” He clears his throat and shuffles on his right earpiece. Your eyes caught it. Is someone speaking on him through it? “I’m not sure, we don’t keep a secret to the boss.” He responds, shortly. Part of his job requires him to disclose your activities and anything related to your safety. Entertaining your antics might put him in serious trouble. Your eyebrows rose. “Ever?” You ask, testing the water. His cooperation would really help you out.

His forehead creases, sizing up your words whether it’s a trap or just some white lies far from a threat to his job. “Are you questioning my loyalty, Mrs. Kim?” The thing is, as the conversation prolongs, it would be difficult for him to avoid trouble, he thought as he fails to understand your purpose.

“No. Just... it’s a different kind of secret.” Your voice falters. If you want to keep a secret, why should you drag him with it? “A secret is a secret. It would cost me my job, you know.”

Your eyes roll as if you don’t know that. He’s not even letting you talk before deciding on his own. You wouldn’t even bother telling him if you don’t need his support to pull off your plan, how will you buy stuff without him tipping it all off to Namjoon’s right hand man. Speaking of which, perhaps, you shall consider tagging Hanbin along in your plan. Heaving an exaggerated, you convince him further, “It's not something bad, will you hear me out? You won’t be in trouble if you keep it a secret. Just promise me you won’t tell him?”

He didn’t look at you, nor made an effort to acknowledge it. “Hear me out first?” You try again when he seems doubtful. His focus was clearly on the road as he shows clear disinterest to listen to you.

“Fine then...” You surrender, crossing your arms.

Silence filled the air inside the car all throughout the journey home, with you frequently shooting childish glares in his direction the entire time. When Mingyu expertly maneuvers the car on the garage, you quickly climb off the car fully intending to ignore him just so you could stir guilt in him because you couldn’t directly admit you need his help.

Unexpectedly, Mingyu catches up with you and suddenly offers, “We can talk tomorrow. On your break.” Then he sprinted toward the flight of stairs instead of usually taking the lift  before you could even process his words. 

He changed his mind that fast?

Out of curiosity, you did try to talk to him again during that night but you couldn’t get a hold of him. And going to the basement where the team camps in could raise suspicion so you waited until tomorrow.

The following day, you notice an unfamiliar guy adorning a similar all black uniform. It does not bother you though since your husband owns a whole agency. However, Mingyu didn’t show up and was replaced by a new one. Although questions start stirring up in your mind, you never really voiced out your concerns to anyone.

When you got home that night, you attempted to wring out an answer from Namjoon. You didn’t need to find him because the moment you returned from uni, he was at the foyer with Hanbin, backs facing your direction. By the mere looks of it, he was sort of giving commands to his right hand man, something you couldn’t properly hear what it is about.

“Hi.” You finally speak, catching both of their attention. Namjoon made a gesture in his hand, dismissing Hanbin while you approached his tall figure.

As Hanbin passes by you, he sends a polite nod to your direction as a greeting, before disappearing from one of the doorways.

With a few steps forward, Namjoon met you half-way, eyeing you up and down. “Sweetheart,” He murmurs while swiftly reaching for your hand, to pull you in for a kiss.

It wasn’t even just a peck. His lips have instantly dominated yours, making sure he sucked and licked your lips enough to have you catching your breath when he drew back. Your cheeks instantly flame at the sudden ministration. You couldn’t even keep an eye contact with him, too embarrassed with how quickly your body reacted to his lips. Unlike you, Namjoon still wear a passive expression, not even a single affected by the kiss. Of course, he did more than just a kiss to you before. Keeping a safe distance from him, you took a step back. “You replaced Mingyu?” You begin inquiring. Out of all the things you can ask, it has to be the very reason for his anger. He didn’t seem one bit pleased to hear you mention your bodyguard’s name instead of asking how his day had gone like your usual opening question during dinner. “I did, should it matter?” He answers with another question. Nervous by the intensity of his stare, you shrug, “I was just wondering why he’s not around.”

It’s true. If Mingyu didn’t promise the talk today, you wouldn’t be this curious. “He’s back in the headquarters.” Namjoon briefly provides.

But the information was too short to rest your mind in peace. Why did he suddenly removed him as your guard? “Oh, okay.“ Something tells you, it’s not all of that. Mingyu’s absence, for all you care, could be anything work-related or personal as long as the boss is concerned. You‘re already aware that Namjoon does not take jealousy too lightly, and somehow you’ve presumed Mingyu will inevitably be victimized under Namjoon’s territorial behavior. The problem is, you couldn’t seem to think of any instance that would make your husband jealous. Unless... Namjoon knows something else you’re not aware of.  “Will he come back here?” You ask further, nervously fidgeting your bracelet while surveying his expression. His eyebrows knitted for whatever reason, significant or not. “No.”  “Why not?” Namjoon cocks his head to the side, his now pitch black eyes strangely spoke with raw emotions you couldn’t tell what exactly is. “Tell me one good reason why he should be here...” He suggests with a nonchalant tone. Unknown to you, his patience is shrinking as he lowers his head to eye you with his tense stare. You didn’t understand what it is for, but you couldn’t help your body as it faintly shudder under his stare. “I’m just curious—”

“How many secrets of yours have you told the boy, Y/N?” Your heart momentarily stops at the mention of your name. Because he rarely calls you by name.

Is he referring to the conversation you had with him yesterday? “W-What... do you mean?” The cold temperature couldn’t even cease the rising tension between you two. “You perfectly understand what I mean.” He answers right away, locking his gaze to you. Making sure you could see the way his eyes flicker with fire. Mingyu told him?

You fumble with words, confused at Namjoon’s anger towards you. “How...w-what...what did he tell you?” “What do you think?” Namjoon returns the question back. And it confuses you more now for how your inquiry has turned into a confrontation, especially that the unnecessary anger is directed at you. You should have not beat around the bush and just directly told him you wanted to surprise Namjoon.

Now, Namjoon thinks you’re actually keeping something serious from him. Did Mingyu really snitch on you? You quietly ponder over, as you recall what happened inside the car. Mingyu was barely participating in the conversation, and the way he responded to you... it was formal, and uncooperative like the usual. The fact that Namjoon knows about it is already a giveaway that Mingyu actually tell-taled. Unless... the earpiece— “If he told you about it, then you would know he didn’t even let me talk, unless he told you something else...“ You trailed. The longer you think of it, the more convinced you are that Namjoon knows something more, just from the look he bears... “We can talk tomorrow. On your break.” Mingyu’s words echo in your mind, once again. And as your brain slowly processes the information, it gradually makes sense to you…

The way he was talking to you in the car made you believe he didn’t want to participate in whatever ploy you have, but he quickly changed his mind once both of you were out of the car. It was not his two-way earpiece. But the car-- Namjoon saw the horror slowly creeping into your face. “You heard, didn’t you...” You breathed. Namjoon heard it clearly, fully comprehending the words you just uttered.

“Something must be in that car, isn’t it?” You press, further.

He is well-aware that you’re not stupid, and you’ll eventually find it out. He just didn’t imagine it to be revealed this way. Nonetheless, his lips only pursed as he remains calm and collected, no trace of remorse or guilt visible on his face. 

His expression tells you he was not bothered by the fact that you found out. You didn’t know how the fire in your eyes is effortlessly piercing his heart. The kind he does not want to see in your eyes. You scoff, “What else—Is my phone bugged?” You suddenly prod, tilting your head up so you could fully observe him through your lashes. His face, however, maintains a straight face. You waited for his answer, silently wishing he would debunk your assumption.  The lack of response only made you confirm it. Fury quickly courses within you, “Why?” Your hands rub your face in utter disbelief. “You have me tailed everywhere by your men, is that not enough?” You spat, resentment slowly clouding your mind, 

”You have my freedom under your mercy, now my privacy? What else do you want from me?”

“It’s for your safety—”

You laugh humorlessly, harshly brushing the stubborn tears on your cheeks. “Tell me, is everything in your apartment bugged? The bedroom? The closet? The bathroom—” “Hush sweetheart, your body is mine and only for my eyes to see.” He was quick to come to your side, catching your arms. You didn’t like the proximity. It makes you weak.

“I’m not your fucking toy! You can’t do this to me!” “Calm down, baby. I love my woman submissive.” He says in a soothing tone. His words as softly as they were spoken hurt you deeply, fueling your ire even more.

You didn’t know how you found the strength to slap him. Your hand trembles, stinging from pain after it meets his skin.

“Find another woman, then!” His face barely turned from the impact, proceeding to address your anger.

“Calm down.” He attempts to console, but it only did the opposite to your ego. You trash your arms out, hating the way he still has the upperhand despite the table being turned upside down. Your strength could never compare to his as you struggle to push him. “You are my woman. Need I remind you that?” Harshly shaking your head, “No! Don’t touch me!” His grip loosens on your arms, and you took it as your chance to sprint off towards the stairs, not wanting to repeat what happened in his office before.

You locked yourself in the bathroom, somehow trusting that this is the only place kept hidden from any prying eyes. Tears uncontrollably flow through your cheeks, face buried on your hands as you helplessly listen at the loud thumping of your heart. If you didn’t pull back, chances are he would have his way to take your weakness in his advantage. The strong surge of emotions you feel cannot even compare to his physical strength.

You’re confused, hurt and disgusted all at once. You didn’t expect how messed up this whole marriage thing could get, realizing you actually know so little of him, of what he does in a living. To think that you have learned to trust him because of the stupid affection you have been nurturing for months, makes your insides twist in fury. Perhaps, it was a spur of the moment thought that you regarded as a wise decision, as anger overpowers your senses. You didn’t understand how it transpired, accordingly. When you quickly packed up a few things put the bag underneath the bed while waiting for the night to progress, Namjoon didn’t come to the bedroom. You thought it helped you leave smoothly.

Little did you know, Namjoon was watching the scene unfold through the numerous cameras simultaneously viewing before his eyes on the screen of his laptop. It was taking all of his willpower to stop you and lock you in his bedroom until your anger subsides, but something tells him it would not do good to cool down your anger.

Funny how the situation unexpectedly turns upside down as he recalls being gutted with anger. Not liking how you so easily open up to others than him. He couldn’t deny the ugly feeling traversing within him when he listened to your interaction with the boy.

As the night rolls around, the burning sensation of the alcohol in his throat becomes addicting, taking more until the ache in his chest numbs.

Jackson’s apartment was the only place you could reach at this hour. Considering Jihyo is staying in the college dorm, you wouldn’t be able to get inside the building for it was already past two in the morning. His place was not even considered a hideout. But at that point, you don't even care if Namjoon comes along breaking down Jackson’s doorway to force you back at home. You only needed a safe place away to think at the moment because you couldn’t bare to see him, yet. And you’re well aware of the effect he has on you. He can quickly cloud your judgement over his will through his mere touch. That’s how bad you’ve fallen for him.

Few days of distancing should enough for you to sort your feelings, if he doesn’t come collecting you himself.

“You okay?” Jackson croaks, seeing you trembling a little. Minutes prior, he was ready to beat the shit out of the person who was smashing his doorbell like a madman. Never would he think it was you of all people.

“He didn’t... hurt you, did he?” He hesitatingly asks, seeing the traces of tears staining your cheeks. Shaking your head, “No. We just had a fight.” “He doesn’t know, right? That you’re here?” You gave Jackson a knowing look, “He probably does by now.” Jackson offered his bed on the first night, but you turned his offer down. You took the couch instead, somehow preparing yourself for the imminent devastation of the storm. Fortunately for you, no one tried to break their way into Jackson’s apartment that night, relieved that everything is still in place or it’ll surely make you guilty for dragging your friends to your problems with Namjoon.

That following morning, you transferred into Jihyo’s dorm, deciding it would be best for Jackson’s safety. Six days insufferably passed. However, it felt longer than that. Staying away had not concluded the fight you had with Namjoon. There was also no sign of Namjoon or his men lurking around the college or the dorm in the past few days. And it bothered you more than it should have given you peace. The thought alone made you realized, you were more affected by your action as you were deeply tormented by the thoughts of him and the possibility that he doesn’t want you, anymore.

Your anger towards him couldn’t tame your feelings for him. Maybe you have underestimated it as a mere attraction—infatuation, even.

That night, Namjoon showed up in the dorm’s doorsteps, to which you had already expected since the first night. But you’re still left surprised, nonetheless.

Your heart painfully tugs, as your chest rises and falls with rapid breaths. “What are you doing here?” Indeed, it was unfair. While you wallow in despair for days, he seems not one bit affected by the situation.

“You will go home,” He calmly orders, his eyes briefly scanning you over.

As ever, he didn’t fail to make your heart thump crazily from the mere sight of him. While you look worse—missing a lot of sleep from trying to balance your studies and your issues with him, he looks stunningly gorgeous, powerful, and unfitting to be in a place like this. “No, I‘m staying.” You insist. “I’m not asking for you permission.” He corrects you in a formal tone, before walking past your figure. “Namjoon—wait! Where are you going?” You panicked, tailing behind him as he immediately finds Jihyo’s room where he scans around the small space. This is barely a room to stay in, he silently thought. “Pack your clothes. I’ll give you five minutes before we go. Unless, you want to leave without them—” You didn’t let him finish, cutting him of mid-sentence. “No, I'm not coming with you.” You compel, determined to follow what you had planned in your mind.

The look on his face is all too familiar, the one that tells you he won’t take no for an answer. “Do not test my patience, sweetheart.”

“Namjoon, stop.” You begin, visibly in distress by the sudden shift of the situation. You are aware he always has the upperhand.

“I want to stay here. Can’t you at least give me that after what you’ve done?” You implore. As much as you miss him, you couldn’t afford to see him yet, or it could break you. “I already gave you space, that’s enough for you.” Shaking your head, “I didn’t ask you to. I left.” You say. His height does not intimidate you anymore, but the way he holds himself now, he seems different. As if he was deliberately trying to make you succumb to him.

“Sweetheart, I had all the means to stop your ploy if I wanted to. I didn’t, because I figured you would need it.” Declares Namjoon, drawing himself closer to where you stood.

You took a step back. “What if I don't want to?” You challenge.

He lowers his head, allowing you to have a glimpse of his dark eyes, silently warning you. “You don't have a choice, sweetheart.”

You let him win, again. Because you were left with no option. You couldn’t think of anything else that you could do to oppose him without compromising anyone, especially your friends. Nothing you could do but to give in for now.

Namjoon already disappeared from somewhere when you entered the living room, leaving you all alone until you hear footsteps nearing towards your direction.

You turn to see who it was.

“What are you doing here?” You warily ask, utterly surprised to see him. How many more surprises do you need yo deal with today? By how ugly the events have turned out, you won’t expect to see him again, or anywhere near the penthouse. He gave you a nod as a form of greeting, before answering, “Working. What else do you think I’m here for?” “For Namjoon?” “Of course, he’s my boss. But he gave me a specific instruction to guard the queen.”

You only gave him a look, although with the obvious height difference, you had to tilt your head up to do so.

Your visible annoyance quickly amuses him. After what happened, he really has the nerve to smirk right in front of you?

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kim, but you look horrible today. You alright?” He shamelessly nags to which earns him scowl from you. “That’s nice of you to say.” You retort, “I’ve been missing a lot of sleep, thank you very much.” He laughs as if nothing really happened.

It’s not his fault, anyway. You don’t blame him for what happened. However, the urge to ask him why he’s back here almost slips past your lips. Only that you remember someone could potentially be eavesdropping to which you didn’t need unnecessary suspicions from Namjoon, anymore.

The conversation was short lived when Miyoung called you in, gesturing for you to come with her in the kitchen, not expecting to see Namjoon sitting in one of the stools in the island counter where food is sumptuously served.

Your footsteps stagger, half-considering to leave the kitchen. However, Namjoon patiently waits for your next move, as if silently ordering you to take a seat.

Heaving a sigh, you did just that, not wanting to stir an argument with him.

Once you sat down across from his seat, he starts placing various food from the empty plate in front of you, until it is almost full that you’re not sure if you can eat all of it.

“Stop... I can’t finish all of that.”

Namjoon pauses, peering at you in disbelief. “You can, it’s your favorite.”

You didn’t like the way he was acting up like he didn’t cause the problem in the first place. You hated how the impact of his action didn’t seem to affect him a single bit.

“I’m still angry,” You couldn’t help but to say.

His serious stare tells you he has no time for a confrontation, but so are you.

“I know, you can be angry for as long as you want. But please, angel, eat the food so I could have the peace. You haven’t been using your cards for your meals, did you intentionally do that to make me worry?”

You scoffed, his indifference to your issue only frustrates you even more. “Why would you think I’ll use your money while I’m gone?”

“You don’t have the means to live independently.”

“That’s not the point here, Joon.”

“It is, when you were not looking out for yourself. You haven’t been coping well… you look a few pounds lighter.” He said in a firm persistence to prove your inability to live well without using his resources.

So what if you were miserable? You couldn’t really force yourself to eat if you didn’t have the appetite to consume food. Either it was because of your distress over the fight or food simply didn’t appeal to you.

Speaking of, you barely touched the food in front of you. You’re not even hungry anyway.

“Shut up—“

Namjoon was quick to cut you off, dismayed by the lack of light in your eyes, you almost look like you’re about to pass out. “Why is it so easy for you to disregard yourself for your pride? If you have been taking care of yourself well I would have given you longer time to mourn in that little cubicle room you call a place.” Namjoon says in a clearly disappointing tone.

The fact that you lost a few pounds in a matter of days bothered him. It took so much of him to let you wallow in despair, he knew that disrespecting your privacy is not right and he understands how it left you scarred with the horrid feeling of betrayal. The same reason why he let you on peacefully for days, until he couldn’t handle it no more.

The short glimpse of you while he had you followed only did more damage to his heart than the peace he was aiming for. A single look from you and he already knew the fight took its toll on you deeper than what he had expected. Your physical state was the last straw to make up his mind to take you back, unwilling or not.

“My pride? You think it’s because of my pride? You think I’m mad because you outsmarted me with your stalking shenanigans?” You echo his words, finally losing the will to touch the food.

“What else is there to be angry about, I told you, it’s for your safety.” He counters back. His mind was spiraling wildly, uncertain how to handle this situation in a way it wouldn’t upset you more.

Namjoon was used to having the control in every situation, a single look from him and no other human being would dare speak further. He used to not care whether he could tear anyone apart with his mere words or sharp glares. He tried it with you and the impact only came shooting back at him, there in the depths of his heart, which no one had been able to inflict him with such raw powerful emotions, enough to make him bend helplessly on his knees.

“That’s the problem! You didn’t even tell me! I was kept in the dark all this time! And now what? You suddenly care about me when you didn’t even consider what I would feel when you gave everyone else something to snoop in about right under my nose?” You accuse, finding the strength to hit him with your words. A moment ago, you felt too empty to even bother a conversation with him. As the remnants of disgusting feeling stirs within you, you now want nothing but to lash out every bit of your anger towards him.

However, Namjoon didn’t want the confrontation this soon when he just had you back home. Though he would not avoid it, he believes now is not the time to talk it over.

“We can talk after you eat, sweetheart—“

“No, we will talk now!”

His gaze pierces straight through your eyes. Although his eyes almost reflected defeat, the aura he carries is so powerful. No one would ever dare scream or say no at him, unless, they don’t value much of their life.

You really are something. Someone who can never compare to him, someone whom he can easily crush in a snap of his fingers— but you’re not just some woman out there. You are his woman, the only one who has bewitched him—not only claiming his heart but also owning his dark soul. If you only knew the effect you have on him...

Silence fills the cold air, shortly. As you look away, not liking the effect he has on you, he quietly seeks for your eyes. He could always see through you—the emotions your eyes transparently reflect. He failed to see any of it when you turned your head away.

He sighs, before breaking the cold silence. “No one can access your phone, you don’t have to worry about it. It is for when… something happens, I could track your location and your digital activities.” Namjoon briefly explains.

There are things that should be left unsaid for your sake. His company has long strayed away from the black market since his father died. But the industry he belongs to will always bear ugly truths in order to sustain the reputation of his company. What he did, to put it into the simplest terms he could articulate of, protection does not only mean hiring people to be your human shields. In this digital age where perpetrators can utilize technology to harm their target, something has to be sacrificed to protect an individual alongside. In your case, it was your freedom, privacy and much more you have yet to realize. He didn’t want you to run away every time you learn something about him or the kind of business he has.

He could not tell you anything else.

“Liar! You’re only saying that to validate your action.” You say in an accusing tone. You got up from your chair, increasing the distance from him as the ambience gets suffocating.

“I’m not justifying what I did whether it’s wrong or not. I would do it again if it means to protect you. When have I not shown you I didn’t care?”

He didn’t mean no harm to disrespect your privacy, but that’s just a part of many things you would have to deal with when you’re married to him. Danger has come along with his name long before he was born.

As he steps closer, you quickly step away. Your head lowering, avoiding his eyes. “W-What are you… saying, you shouldn’t have kept it from me, in the first place. You don’t have to pretend you care. You’re only protecting me because I’m your responsibility.”

His forehead creases, “You are my wife. That makes you my responsibility, isn’t that the same thing for caring, sweetheart?” His hands extend forward to coax you closer.

You shook your head, “No.”

You couldn’t deny that he’s been attending to your needs, being more than just a guardian, crossing the line beyond the role of a mere provider. He became someone you have come accustomed as a husband despite the lack of emotional commitment from him, a friend under the guise of a husband. Even if you wanted more from him, who are you to demand such thing? The mere thought of your unrequited feelings towards him painfully tugs your heart.

Namjoon caught the raw emotions swimming from eyes. To what are those for?

“Have I not shown you enough? With my actions, with my kisses... when we make love—“

“Shut up, you d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.” You stammer, turning your back at him as you feel your eyes welled up. 

“Then tell me how you feel, I can only take so much when it comes to you. I’ve never felt so helpless when I see you suffer, when you cry. Baby, I was so lost when you left. Tell me what I should do.”

“Stop… you’re confusing me with your words.” You croak, as you struggle to process his words.

The sound of his steps nearing made you still. Your eyes clenched shut, and as the tears stain your cheeks, you quickly wipe them away. Namjoon is so close, you literally could feel the heat of his body. 

“I’m not good at expressing my feelings. But I thought I made my intentions very clear. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you baby, please let me hold you.” Namjoon drew himself nearer, until your bodies are touching. When you made no effort to distance yourself farther, he cautiously encircled his arms around your waist.

You remain still as he pulls you even further in his embrace, nuzzling your hair from behind. You hate yourself for giving in too soon, the moment he has you locked in his arms, your anger quickly melts away. The warmth from his body felt too comforting as it slowly envelops your body, reminding you one again how much it tore you apart when you left. The ache in your chest, somehow, subsiding. You didn’t want him to let you go from his hold.

His nose traces an invisible path on the side of your head, loving the alluring scent of your hair. Softly murmuring just above your ear, “I have loved you since the day I saw you taking orders in that coffee shop. While you made me this crazy for you like no one else has ever done, you’re willing to leave everything. It was that easy for you to walk away and leave me, just like when you left your home for your freedom—“

The hard thumping of your heart is so loud as you cut him. He could probably hear it from the close proximity of your bodies.

“No, that’s not true! I didn’t leave you,” you pause, shaking your head violently to give emphasis on your point. Your heart aches, as your chest felt suddenly constricted hearing his confession. The information felt foreign in your ears, as if you were hallucinating. Is it true? Did he really know you way before you met him?

“I needed some time to think for myself. But I wouldn’t leave. I could never… I’ll always come back. I would come back to you.” Tears instantaneously flow in your cheeks. 

Namjoon spoke no more, as he squeezed your body in his arms, burying his face on the crook of your neck. Savoring this moment.

You in his arms.

You barely had a glimpse of what kind of his life he has, and have no knowledge of half the ugly things he had done. The deeper he falls for you, the more he willingly succumbing himself to your mercy, as if surrendering a dagger for you to destroy him through his weakness.

He silently wishes from the gods above that you would never walk away from his life again, when pieces of him slowly unravels to you through the course of time.

“Namjoon,” you whisper, seeking the attention you unknowingly have.

“Don’t leave me again, Y/N. I can take your anger, scream at me, hurt me— anything. I can take so much from you, as long as you’re right in my sight, the way I can protect you. I’ll give you as much as time alone.”

“Joon,”

“Promise me—”

“Namjoon!” You plead loudly, tugging his arm to gain the attention you want.

He takes a deep breath, confused at the tone of your voice. “Hmm?”

“I love you, too.” You murmur so suddenly.

He stills, hearing the words he had heard you say in his dreams. This time, he was awake with you in his embrace and he was uncertain if he actually heard the words right.

“Angel—”

“I love you so much.” You repeated, with a longing voice, this time you turned to face him. The look in his face tells you all of it. Shock was written all over his face, as if your confession was something he was not expecting in his wildest dream. Between the two of you, his confession of love for you is the most unpredictable thing you heard from him.

You tiptoed, reaching for his lips. He quickly met you halfway through, greedily capturing your mouth. His tongue went past your parted lips to dominate the kiss. You sigh against his mouth, missing the rich taste of his lips.

Nothing else matters now but his embrace.

Note: Hope you all enjoyed this one sjajahahagj 

This turned out a bit longer than what I had initially written only because I kind of included something to introduce characters/details that are part of my upcoming series. 

mintseesaw © 2020

[ironmandeficiency]

laying low

pairing: fennec shand / reader

word count: 3019

summary: she didn’t want you to retire because you were the only one she trusts to have her six. you retired because you couldn’t let yourself fail and get her killed.

a/n: i want her to step on me but also i wanna be the one (1) person the stoic badass is soft for. also i’m posting from mobile again so ✨hooray✨

warnings: angry fennec, parting on maybe-bad terms, canon typical violence, being kidnapped, toro calican himself is a warning (undid his death for the sake of plot)

“is this really what you want? to sit here and let yourself rot?” fennec was bitter. you hated seeing her like this and nearly every muscle in your body ached as she spoke. the two of you worked together like a finely-tuned machine and she clearly thought that you retiring was a waste of potential. but when you slipped up and nearly cost fennec her life, you refused to endanger her with your presence. she was far too valuable to you and you would do anything, even retire in this skughole, if it meant keeping her safe.

after a speeder crash you endured during a fight against stormtroopers, it severely impacted your ability to fight. fennec knew that you wouldn’t be the same, but that didn’t bother her. there were only one or two more bounties picked up afterwards because you realized you had become a liability. fennec was having to cover your ass more often than not and even though she insisted that it wasn’t a problem, you had to do something different.

picking up a little slack would be miniscule if you were with her but you didn’t see it like she did. you had been her longest companion and the only one that she’d ever let see her weak. life came with trauma, and with trauma came nightmares — she remembers the first one she had early into your partnership, the way you held her close and anchored her to reality. from then on it was decided: you were it for her. not that she’d ever tell you, but it was true nonetheless.

you sighed at her words; the very same thoughts went through your head at the beginning of this plan but it was the only viable option for you. “it’s all i have left. maybe i can find some peace before hunters come looking for me.” you pour two mugs of caf, setting one on the table in font of an empty chair as an invitation for her to sit. she doesn’t.

the anger in the air around her nearly chokes you with its intensity, rising in the air like heavy plumes of smoke from a raging fire. you’re unsure what you can say to tame the blaze, if you even can at all. normally you would know the exact words to say to bring her down when she’s this upset, but now you were the root of the problem and there was nothing short of foregoing retirement that would make her happy.

fennec continues talking about the brave fighter she fought alongside turning into someone she didn’t know, how you’re showing your belly to the world like the damn tooka sunbathing in the windowsill. the venom she’s spitting doesn’t bother you. she’s angry and hurt, probably feeling abandoned by you and your decision to stay and make a home.

“if you ever need somewhere to lay low, i’ll always welcome you. we’re partners fennec, whether fighting side by side or not.” you wanted to give her that much. even if she wasn’t ready now, you would always welcome her into your new home, into your arms the way you’ve yearned to for years.

nothing is said to acknowledge your words. you didn’t think she would say anything anyway but it hurts regardless, another reminder that she doesn’t like this the same way you don’t. all she does before leaving you is grabbing the mug from the table and pouring its contents down the drain, letting the mug clatter in the sink once it’s empty.

maybe one day she could see that you were doing this for her. maybe one day, probably long away from now, she would walk into these doors with the weight of the galaxy being dropped on your doorstep. with a soft smile and open arms you would greet her and show her what it was like to live the quiet life.

for now, you would just have to settle for the warm embrace of the memories you shared, hoping that more could be made in your new little hut.

it’s been close to six months since you retired. you hadn’t seen or heard fennec since she walked out of your front door wearing her signature scowl. it still stung, after all this time, that after everything she wouldn’t even comm. you’d tried that the first couple weeks after she left but there was never a reply, only a dwindling hope and the worry of not knowing if she was okay.

that was one of the biggest benefits of traveling with fennec; you would never have to worry where she was because she was always right beside you. there was never a nagging worry that ate at you, no nightmares allowed to linger since her touch would ward them away. life without her was a new normal

there would be days where you would see something and want to tell her about it, throwing her name over your shoulder only to remember that she was never there to hear what you had to say. the comms you sent grew further apart as time went on, eventually stopping altogether. she would never reply anyway, there was no reason to waste both your time and yours on something seemingly broken beyond repair.

she may not have been dead, but you still lost her.

several more weeks went by and you had grown accustomed to the solitude. sure you would socialize when going to the market for food and supplies, but it was never anything of substance, only mere pleasantries and remarks on the quality of the items you bought. somehow you were far more weary during retirement than you had been before it.

your mind would drift to her still, wondering whether she had found someone else to watch her back or if she was vagabonding all by her lonesome. how you yearned to see her again, hear her voice or feel her hands gently help you when you fall like you have lately. it’s like your body doesn’t see the reason to keep up. you exercise to the best of your ability and try to stay fit as possible, but you’re still losing your footing more and more often, even at home.

it comes to a head when you’re making breakfast. everything had been okay prior, but one little nudge of your bad leg against a table corner and you’re sprawling. laying on the floor covered in your breakfast, it takes you thirty minutes to muster the strength needed to stand on your own.

the next day, you get a cane. you loathe having to buy it at all, hearing her voice calling you old and jokingly asking where your grandchildren are. it’s either a cane or losing what little mobility you have left, so you go with the former. you despised the visible display of your weakness, grated on what pride you had left. if fennec could see you now, what would she say?

the man had beat his way into your home with every intention to rob you and take what little supplies you had. he had been traveling for days in the desert and was tired. but then he saw exactly whose house he was robbing and he had an even better idea: take you to what used to be jabba’s palace, now ruled by bib fortuna.

see, the paths you used to tread alongside fennec provided ample opportunities to make an enemy here and there. jabba was one of them simply because you refused to work for him, and with his death, you had a little bit of peace. fortuna never attempted to seek you out but anyone who knew of jabba’s grudge against you would be wise to the reward your capture would produce.

this young hotshot was foolhardy and far too cocksure compared to his abilities. if you were in the body you used to have, this buffoon (who made his name very known to you in some sort of dominance attempt?) would be dead thrice over. but time wasnt kind to you and you still have a near-lame leg, so at his mercy you were.

you just wished he would shut his damn mouth for longer than it took him to suck in another breath. he must not realize that silence is far louder than jabbering when it comes to someone holding your life in their hands. maker forbid you have peace in your final moments, apparently. figures.

jabba’s former palace was soon in your line of sight and if you weren’t positive that you were being led to your death, you’d have been grateful to be freed of the nuisance that was toro calican. all the assurance you could find as he hauled you out of his speeder was that his arrogance would soon get him killed if he continued the way he was going.

toro dragged you to the throne room with a hand roughly dripping your bicep, trying to hurry you along as if you still had two normally functioning legs. you knew he knew about your predicament, your lack of fully independent mobility a frequent topic of his. “ease up, wank stain! you know i have a lame leg!” his answer was an aggravated huff and his blaster pressed harder into your lower back.

the lower you descended, the deeper the dread sank into your gut. this was actually real, you were about to die. peace had been made long ago with the knowledge of someone possibly wanting to find you, but now that it was happening… completely different.

you wondered if fennec would ever find out about your death. or if she did find out, your brain would questioned if she would even care. of course she would, your heart consoled, think of how long you traveled together! the trust! the bond you two share transcends time!

but you cut your journeys with her short, there was no telling. there were so many things you wish you could have told her, not just about the feelings that only grew in their intensity during her absence from your side. you wanted to tell her about the stray tooka that you took in when you first settled down; she had a litter of kittens and one of them had a glare that rivaled your dear assassin’s. there was an action holonovel you read once that had you cackling, imagining your fennec cutting off all the frivolous villain monologues with a blaster to the face.

she was never told these things and now that you were becoming rancor chow, she’d never even know them. the idea of dying before telling fennec everything that you’ve been stewing over for so long, not telling her you loved her, fuck was it heartbreaking.

a mumbled curse fell from your lips when you felt saltwater make a descent down your cheeks. you didn’t want your harbinger to see you this weak, this vulnerable, but you had no choice in the matter. your hands are bound by a pair of shockingly sturdy binders and there was no way for you to wipe the tears away. all you could do was blink them away, then meet death with your chin up and your love in your heart.

“now what do we have here?” that was most certainly not the voice of bib fortuna. you opened your eyes to find a broad man clad in green beskar occupying the throne. your common sense identified him as boba fett, which you should have thought was impossible. then again, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to be as annoying as toro calican. it was a day of being proved wrong, it seemed.

anyone could see that toro wasn’t prepared to see someone that wasn’t bib on the throne. his eyes had grown to the size of the twin suns and even through your wet eyes, you could see his facial expression morph from his fake swagger to a dog of uncertainty. nevertheless, he persisted, throwing you down at the foot of the throne. “there’s a bounty on their head and i’ve come to collect the reward.”

boba fett, even through the beskar, doesn’t seem pleased. he doesn’t move his helmet’s line of sight from toro as he speaks, something you’re grateful for. “there’s been a, how do you say, recent transfer of power. and with that change came a new way of doing things, you understand.” he scoffed at the man, your proximity to the throne enlightening you to just how annoyed he was becoming in such a short period. it seemed that toro had that effect on everybody.

“how do i know this is actually someone with a price on their head? what evidence do you have that proves their identity?”

it was clear that your captor didn’t expect to have to prove a damned thing. what a fool, not even bothering to prepare for a single unexpected event. you were almost ashamed of having been overpowered by him at this point. “anyone who’s anyone knows, this is the former partner of the late fennec shand! i’m sure you heard abour her demise — that was me by the way — and now i’ve brought her partner to you, to be taken out of commission…”

all the hair on your body stood on end. fennec was dead? killed by the very man that brought you in? no, not your fennec. she wouldn’t be overpowered by this arrogant bastard in her sleep with a hand tied behind her back, there was no way. but boba said nothing to negate the rumors and that told you everything you need to know. “if you have even a morsel of mercy, by the stars make this quick. if she’s really gone, then i’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

those were the first words you’ve spoken since toro bound you and dragged you like a ragdoll from your home. there was no reason to entertain the man, but there was the tiniest sliver of a chance that you could implore the mandalorian in front of you to end your life with the efficiency he was known for.

he asked the man his name and merely hummed in acknowledgment when it was boastfully given, like his name meant something to a battle hardened mandalorian such as boba fett.

if you had paid attention to boba’s demeanor since your arrival, you would have noticed that something in his air changed when toro spoke about being the one to kill fennec. some would have mistook it for disbelief but it was much more than that. boba knew that toro was indeed the man who shot fennec shand, but he was not the man who killed fennec shand because she simply wasn’t dead.

she was, in fact, just in the next room scavenging for another bottle of fluorescent blue spotchka when her curiosity was piqued by the conversation occurring in the throne room. at the way the voices seemed to be familiar, she abandoned the search and decided to see for herself what the commotion was.

what she found sent liquid fire through her veins. you, on your knees and head bowed just enough to show resignation and grief, binders shackling your arms and fennec knew that you wouldn’t be able to get up on your own because of it. toro calican, the man who nearly killed her all those sunsets ago in the middle of tusken territory standing above you with a wicked sneer on his lips. this would simply not do.

“word of advice, calican,” she made her presence known with her voice, walking around to boba’s right hand side and leaning a hip against the throne. “always make sure your kills are dead before you leave them. leaving them for dead? that’s how you make enemies.” her blaster was out of her holster and firing before toro could reply, and boba was impressed with the speed she fired with. he had a feeling that it had to do with the figure at the foot of his throne.

your eyes had to be deceiving you. there was no way, toro killed fennec… right? so how in the stars was she here now? the feeling of her hands on your cheeks, warm brown eyes giving you much needed comfort after what you’ve been through. you didn’t even register boba leaving his throne until he’s on the ground in front of you, unclasping your binders with the gentleness one would treat an injured animal. maybe that’s what you were to him, a pitiful tooka missing a leg that was dropped on his doorstep.

before you can venture deeper into this rabbit hole, your body is pulled off the questionable floor and into fennec’s embrace. the way she felt against you, the calluses of her hands as she held you, it was home. you didn’t know when the tears had come back but she was quick to wipe them away with the pads of her thumbs.

“seems you found trouble. what happened to laying low, huh?” her comment brought a ready chuckle from your throat and a small smile to her lips. sweet maker how you’ve missed that smile. “maybe you’ll be safer here, what do you think?”

any and all words elude you. nothing on this planet or any other in the galaxy could drag you away from her now, not when she’s as beautiful now as the day you met her, when she gives you the smile you knew was only saved for you. “i’m always safer with you, fennec.”

she hums, her lips pressing to your forehead to ground you both in the reality of being together again. “i’ll have to say the same about you, desert rose. nearly died only a week after i left your hut.”

“only a week? i thought you’d last longer than that.”

“it was because i didn’t have you. but we don’t have to worry about that anymore, do we?”

she was right, you wouldn’t have to worry about losing her for the rest of your life.

fennec shand taglist: @cryptidcody @sacred-things @clownocoruscant @steel-phoenix @aerolanya @felucians @bookbandobssessed @senator-nahberries @obirain @themarcusmoreno @jedi-mando @flightlessangelwings @whovianwar @hornystarwarsbisexual @kaermorons (i love this handle bye ohmygod)

[razorblade180]

Shackles 12: Protect your own

[part 11]

One thing leads to another. Pain brings grief, joy brings progress, day brings night; Jacquelyn knew simple truths like these, but she had really wished she could get her joy before night came. That didn’t seem to be the case. The tired woman sat on the Belladonna balcony. Her eyes scanned the stars that have kept her company for many years, bringing a sense of ease while her hands clasped a mug of warm tea. Blake’s mother, Kali, walked up from inside the house and poured more.

“Thank you.” Jacquelyn uttered softly. All day Kali hadn’t spoken a word to her. The older woman gave no expression, but her eyes said enough. They were upset, and mulling things over. “I’m-”

“If you’re going to apologize then don’t. There’s nothing you could say on his behalf.”

“Of..of course. I would never. I was going to apologize for myself. I’m…I involved your daughter in this. That one is on me.”

Kali looked over Jacquelyn. It just didn’t make sense to her. The girl before her sat solemnly waiting for a man who’s wracked sorrow to countless lives.

“If I wasn’t for Sun and Ilia, I would’ve denied you being here. I don’t want him near my home. He’s caused enough harm.”

“I understand. Still, I’m grateful. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Kali’s eyes the more Jacquelyn spoke to her. “Did you have a mother growing up?”

“…For a while. I lost her young.”

“I don’t know you, but I can tell she must’ve been caring; the kind of mother that would go to war for you.”

“Hehe, yeah, she was.” A tiny smile crept to her face, thinking back on the remarkable woman. “I owe her a lot in life.”

“A good mother’s only wish in life is to keep their kids safe and happy no matter what. So yeah, this isn’t easy. The thing I love the most in this world, my precious baby girl, you’ve helped invite back the very thing I failed to protect her from. I’m absolutely livid.So don’t tell me you understand. You’re not a mother.”

A lump formed in Jacquelyn’s throat. The little joy she had fizzled out. Kali’s words felt colder than Atlas winds and they had a right to be. However…a click at the door cut through all that.

“We’re home.” Blake said down stairs. Kali quickly ran downstairs. Jacquelyn put down the mug and ran too, but then, she stopped. A loud slurp came from behind her. She turned back around, gasping. Adam sat in her chair with her mug. His face was a bit pale and clothes were replaced with something a bit nostalgic.

“Hey, how you feeling? ” She said, smirking at his attempts to look cool.

“Dehydrated. Also a little stuffy.” He took off his old signature jacket. “Cannot believe this thing was still around. I guess evidence lockers really collect everything.”

“Did you climb up here?”

“Both Ghira, Blake and I all agreed that Kali is the absolute last person who should see me.” He walked towards her.

“Pfft yeah.” Jacquelyn did her best to chuckle but the smile she tried to force turned to a lip quiver while tears came automatically. Adam put her arms around her and she lost it. Her fingers clung to his shirt and wept, not caring who heard.

“Do you enjoy scaring me?”

“What did you think happened to me?”

“I don’t fucking know.” She sniffed, “so many things. I didn’t want to think you decided to up and leave but now I kinda wish that was the case. At least then I could be pissed at you for being an idiot. I held you Adam. You were so cold.”

“You off all people should know how close to death I can get. But I’ll admit it, I thought I was a goner. I’ll tell you about everything later, but first…” Adam let her go and stepped out of view from the balcony doors.

The entire Belladonna family came up stairs. Kali’s eyes were noticeably more red and her hand held Ghira’s. Blake’s eyes were also a bit puffy but much less.

Jacquelyn sighed as she wiped her own eyes. “Have we all been crying today?”

Blake chuckled halfheartedly “Looks like it. You okay?”

“Not really. I need a nap.”

Kali looked at the balcony. “…Adam, sincerity starts with eye contact.”

“Is that what you want from me?”

“No. Frankly I like not seeing you, but it’s rude to let this woman stand alone after waiting.” Kali wasn’t petty. She knew this wasn’t about her.

Adam walked into view slowly and stood beside Jacquelyn. He took Kali’s glare head on. It was actually nice to know one person in this room would definitely not hold back against him. He’s gotten used to that.

Blake looked at Jacquelyn and spoke. “Where’s Ilia and Sun? I thought they would’ve stayed.”

“Those two only stayed for about an hour. Ilia said she had to do something important and Sun tagged along with her. I have no idea where but they took an airship. They said they’d be back by sunrise.”

That was a little concerning. Blake had hoped to have everyone here for this. What in the world could possess them to leave?

“Guess this is everyone for now. Adam, we gotta do something with you. Even if you’re technically dead, things have to be different.”

“Lock me up.” He said bluntly. Everyone jumped a little from the suggestion.

“Lock you up!? Adam I made a case to keep you out of-”

“I wasn’t finished.” He interjected. “There’s already a collection of people here who know I’m alive. Those guards of yours in particular. Loyalty is easy to strain. If you just let me walk then they will resent you. Allowing them to put me behind bars covertly might give you a better chance to negotiate what to do with me later on.”

“Or you’re locked up forever without real protection. You might be at their mercy. I’m not allowing that.”

Jacquelyn nodded. “Neither am I. We didn’t get you out of one situation just to throw you back into the exact same one! Even if they work for Blake, she can’t watch over their every action.”

Ghira rubbed his beard. That was true. It wouldn’t be good for Blake to be visiting jail constantly anyways, still. “It wouldn’t be wise for Adam to go unpunished. I think for people’s peace of mind he must be detained for a while.”

“Dad! But…”

“Saber is a good man. He wouldn’t act out of line on a whim. Besides, I will volunteer personally to check on him daily.”

Kali looked at Blake’s shocked expression. “Sweetie, he is still a criminal.”

“I know, but…this doesn’t solve anything! How do you expect him to prove things are different behind a cell!?” Blake looked at Adam. “How can you be okay with it?”

“I’m not. If I see another pair of shackles again it would be too soon; but the public finding out about me is no short of a death sentence. However, I do have conditions for going along with this.”

Kali’s eyes narrowed. “Are you really in a position to discuss terms?”

“As long as this is a majority, then yes.” That wasn’t gonna score points with her but oh well Atonement or not, Adam refused to be walked all over. “First, Jackie’s home was blown up. I’d like her to stay here until it can be rebuilt. Second, I’d also want Sienna to be put in Jackie's care when she’s out of the hospital.”

Both Kali and Jacquelyn were highly confused. The maiden spoke up. “Ummm Sienna Khan?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. She’s this little girl that escaped the mineshaft with me.”

“White tiger ears? I remember a girl by you in the desert. Why me?”

“Unfortunately she’s not speaking much.” Ghira said. “Adam says you’re pretty good and patient with situations like these. Also, the child seems attached to Adam, so maybe she’ll be comfortable with the person around him.”

“Be careful though. She can get pretty defensive and violent.”

Jacquelyn squinted. “Giving me a way to focus while you’re gone, is that it? Hmph, like I’d say no regardless. Of course I’ll help her if I can.” She folded her arms. Guess she was getting single mother practice early.

“I’m glad. I do have one more condition.” He put his arm over the maiden’s shoulder and pulled her close. “I’ll go to jail, after I help Jacquelyn get through her pregnancy.”

The room went silent. Jacquelyn felt her face get hot and eyes water again. He knew. These terms weren’t for his benefit at all. They were all for her.

Ghira and Kali looked at each other, shocked by this revelation. A twinge of guilt hit Kali for the words she spoke early, but now she understood Jacquelyn’s feelings just a little bit more.

“You would send yourself to jail even knowing her condition?”

“I don’t make money and I don’t see any outcome where me being free makes it easier for Jacquelyn or those two kids. Anybody drawing the connections would be problematic to put it lightly. At least this way I’m not a complete dead beat. So, do we have an agreement?” He asked Ghira.

Blake bit her bottom lip. Right now she needs to look outside herself. She reminded herself of Yang’s parting words. “Slow down. I don’t need things done in a night. Sigh, besides, it’s not like I have a better plan.” Blake looked at her father. “It’s not unreasonable.”

“That’s not exactly the problem. I’d agree but even nine months of him being free is a lot to swallow. We simply don’t have the men to watch him or a place to keep him.”

“Yeah I don’t want him in my home of all places.” Kali added. “Now matter how you look at it, Adam is too dangerous for anyone to look after while he’s free. I can’t go on good faith where there isn’t any.”

“Mom he’s-”

“OH! OH! I’LL WATCH HIM!” Yelled a voice outside, brimming with energy.

A gust of wind blew in from the balcony bringing a glimmer of faith and dozens of rose petals. Blake’s jaw dropped. “Ruby!?”

The full fledged scythe wielding huntress grinned ear to ear. “Yo!” Ruby dashed in and stopped right in front of Blake, giving her a big hug and waving to her parents. “Busy day huh?”

Blake grabbed her leader by the shoulders. This had to be a fever dream. “Ruby, why are you here!?”

The reaper’s face went red as she started chuckling. “Hehe, so funny story…”

xxxx

“Ruby?!” Yang questioned, shouting over the edge of her ship at another ship passing by. Sure enough, her little sister turned around and gasped.

“Yang!? Why are you on a boat leaving Menagerie!?”

“Why are you on a boat docking to Menagerie is a better question!”

“I stopped by your house only to hear from Jaune that you went to see Blake for the first time in forever! You think I was gonna be calm about it? I took the first mission here I could find to have an excuse!”

Yang could not believe what she was hearing. “Rubes…but that..why!? Just why!?”

“You have a bad habit of saying things you don’t mean when you get emotional. If things went south then they might not get better.”

Moments like these made it really hard for Yang to believe she was the older sister; especially when Ruby is absolutely right. “Can you not call me out like that?”

“Why are you leaving? Don’t tell me things went up in flames?”

“N- Well they almost did, but it’s fine! We’re okay; more than okay. I had to cut things short because…I gotta do some stuff. So does she.” Ruby would have a cow if she learned Yang was pregnant. Yang wanted to tell her, but Jaune had to be first. Well…technically second, but first in her heart!”

Ruby could not believe she rushed over to Menagerie for nothing! Well at least her sister looked happy, so things must’ve gone okay. “Well, I’m happy for you! Sigh…I guess I’ll knock out this mission as fast as I can then-”

“Actually, Ruby, can you do your big sis a huge favor?”

xxxx

“And now I’m here.” Ruby rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. “Would’ve gotten here sooner but a supply mission is a supply mission. I also checked in with Saber, was it? When I explained who I was he gave me a brief and vague update. Since I came here to mediate in the first place and Yang asked so nicely, I thought I’d lend a hand.”

“You were gonna do that favor or no favor.”

Ruby grinned. It was nice to be known so well. “Mr. and Mrs. Belladonna, I’ll watch Adam. That’s the main reason you turned the offer right?”

“Y…Yes but-” Ghira stuttered.

Kali sighed, “Do you really plan on sticking around for nine months?”

“Technically as long as he’s with me and out of sight then I wouldn’t have to stay here specially, but I can understand if you don’t want him too far away. If he’s genuine then having him help rebuild the blown up home should be no problem. I can stay in the house to watch everyone, or I’m happy to rent a place and keep them there. Ilia has a spot out of the way of people. We got options.”

Call her impulsive, but Ruby was persistent. A game changer everywhere she went and she knew it. The girl took a step back to be in the middle of the room. Her hands went on her hips. The next words she spoke were with pure confidence and sincerity.

“If you need good faith then look towards me. I love your daughter like family and I’ve always looked out for people, so believe me when I say this. Adam Taurus has nothing on me. I can take him.” Bold words but she meant them to the letter.

That confidence was felt by everyone. Even Adam felt challenged, though he had no intention of betraying anyone. His first time seeing Blake’s leader and the sister of a person he never thought would save his life, and she was trash talking him. Huh, I guess they really were related. The argument was strong, too strong for Kali and Ghira to deny. Both of them gave a look of uncertainty before nodding.

“I will cut everyone some slack and let them stay in this room tonight as long as you’re here too.” Kali said.

“Yes ma’am. I appreciate it.” Ruby gave a nod as the older woman left.

Ghira gave a smile to Ruby. “I’m glad Blake has family everywhere.” He left after his wife, leaving the rest of them to sort the rest out.

Ruby finger gunned Blake before turning around,

approaching Adam for the first time in her life. He was definitely tall. That’s for sure. “I don’t think we’ve officially met yet.”

“But I’m positive you know everything you need to know about me?”

“Eh, Blake’s not much of a talker. My sister said a few things but they weren’t exactly helpful, just nasty. You’ve done a lot to her, more than you probably know. Still, Yang fights her own battles and I guess recently she won a big one. We’ll only have a fight if you start one, deal?” Ruby extended her hand.

Adam couldn’t get a read on Ruby. She was open, yet guarded. Kinda Jacquelyn. He shook her hand. “Pretty bold to say you can beat someone you never met.”

“Really? I don’t think so. If my friends could do it years ago then me doing it now should be cake. I mean you even look like a ghost right now.” Her eyes shifted to Jacquelyn. “Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks?” Jacquelyn grabbed Adam’s sleeve. “Can the two of us talk on the balcony in private?”

“Be my guest.” Ruby watched her new assignment get dragged away by….whatever that girl was to him. “So Blake, I know this isn’t the sweetest vis-eep!” A tight hug snuck up on her.

Blake squeezed tightly and let her stress fade

away. “That’s my incredible leader. Always coming to my rescue.”

“Awe, oh sweet hehe. Now I really know you’re stressed.” Ruby hugged back happily.

Outside, things were a little less warm and cozy. The cool breeze against Jacquelyn’s skin did little to cool her off as her hands tugged gently on the front of Adam’s shirt. Her eyes were glued to the floor while she felt his hand on her head.

“For the record, I’m not the biggest fan of all this.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s been preaching about being more than what I was? Salvation and all that?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t proud.” She lifted her for him to see her pouting. “So you knew I was pregnant all along? Gotta admit, that makes you getting kidnapped willingly and trying to go to jail makes you look really shitty.”

“Jackie-”

“I know I’m twisting your intentions but I can’t help but feel that way okay? I mean it’s fine. I’m just the gal who took pity on you and helped for her own therapeutic needs or salvation; whatever you wanna call it. Sure we slept around from time to time but that’s what happens when you have no one else. We had no labels. Circumstances made us glorified roommates at best. I mean yeah sure, on paper I guess I did what I set out to do. You’re changing.”

“And you’re trying not to cry.” He rubbed her cheek. Jackie wasted no time reaching to hold it in place. “You’ve spent a few years trying to get me to be more direct with myself. Think you can take your own advice right now.”

“……I fucked up. I should’ve just been helping you but I did more than that. I fell for you, and I can’t say with confidence I know how you feel back because we never talked about these things. A situation like this is what I used to imagine but along the line all I thought of was us, always together.”

“So you’re basically asking me what you are to me, is that it?”

“Stupid, right?” Jacquelyn started laughing at her own insecurities until Adam wrapped his arms around her and rested her head on his chest. The sound of his heart filled her senses and calmed her.

“I thought of you every day I was trapped. To tell you the truth, I don’t feel much different from the day you found me. If anything it’s only harder for me to deny how fucked I am.”

“Idiot, that’s a world of difference, and I’m not the only one who sees that.” Jacquelyn gave a soft smile. So much between was unsaid and uncertain, but that's fine for now. He thought of her, fought for her. She did the same. Those actions were worth a billion words. Roughly nine more months of actions before life changed forever. Best to not waste them. Jacquelyn tilted her head up and leaned in, kissing him gently. The joy she waited for was finally hers as he kissed her back.

Two sets of footsteps came back up the stairs. One pair was a very exhausted Ilia and the other was a slightly less tired Sun.

“Ilia! You’re back!” Blake yelled.

“Yeah I-” she spotted the intimacy happening on the balcony. “Hmm didn’t need to see that.”

“Be nice.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing this entire adventure. Also hey Ruby. Couldn’t resist a good drama?”

“As if! I came here to keep things drama free!”

Sun guided Ilia to the couch for her to plop on. Poor girl has been traveling nonstop for at least three days now. He was tired too, but a sudden rush of energy hit him in the form of Blake giving him a running hug and a quick passionate kiss that made him laugh.

“Haha, is that you saying sorry or thank you?”

“It’s me saying you’re amazing and I love you for rolling with this so effortlessly.”

“Oh there’s effort. You’re just worth it.” He smiled, kissing her again. “I’m just happy you’re safe, but you gotta-”

“Slow down. Yeah…I’ve been told.” Blake rested her head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong, like he always is. “Where did you two go?”

Sun looked at Ilia who immediately got up and left to bother the pair on the balcony, grabbing Ruby too. Sun let Blake go. The man let out a faux cough. “So umm this is probably a completely inappropriate time to ask this but…”

Blake saw him reach into his pocket and her face immediately felt like fire. “Wait!” She frantically grabbed his wrist before he could take his hand out. “I know I asked but you could’ve lied!”

“Hey! I was actually trying to get things prepared back in Vacou but people started getting abducted. I know I just talked about you slowing things down and this isn’t the first time we’ve discussed-”

“Yes!” Blake could see the goofy and confused smile Sun was forming. It only flustered her more. “Don’t be surprised. Listen, it was always gonna be a yes. I’m still going to say yes; especially with all that’s happened. Lately it feels like I’ve been putting off things in my life for things I want in my life, but…you are someone I always want. Even if I don’t say it all the time.”

“I know that. It’s okay. Equality is busy work. It is your dream.”

Blake blushed, “So is marrying you. When this situation gets sorted out and dealt with, can you ask me then? You’ve given all your attention through this. I want to give you all of mine when.”

Drat! How could that feel so bittersweet sweet and yet appropriate? Sun knew his face was red too. Blake didn’t reject him by any means but the moment of courage was dashed! Guess that was the point. Typical Blake. Nothing typical about her. Sun let go of the ring in his pocket and chose to hold Blake’s face, staring into her eyes. How could they be so determined one moment and bashful the next. Honestly…

“My future wife is so ridiculous sometimes.”

“I think that’s what my future husband likes about me.” Blake smirked, “I love you.”

The two shared a kiss, taking a moment for themselves.

Ruby smiled from outside and looked at the others. “Okay, I know there’s more of a reason for nabbing me, because that pretty moment was happening no matter how many were around.”

“I brought you out here because the four of us plus Sun are about to keep a secret.” Ilia put her back against the railing, her head looking towards the stars. “Sobek, I handled it.”

Jacquelyn went bug eyed. “What? H-How?”

“Talked to the victims here, Vacou, and Adam briefly. If I would’ve gone in with you all then I might’ve recognized him. He did work in Atlas after all. Anyways it’s dealt with and you don’t have to worry about any of those victims talking. They already wanted to forget the ordeal so adding funds was icing on the cake.” Ilia stared at Adam with soullessness

“I know, you didn’t do it for me.”

“Oh how I wish that were true. Let’s make things clear right now, I’m so pissed at you. If you weren’t injured then I’d throw down right now. Blake never told you this most likely, but near my house I gave you a grave. To me you deserved at least that much; you kept me alive and going for a time. As much as I now hate some of the things I know how to do, I was fortunate you taught me them because those skills help people.”

Adam watched as Ilia took her pointer finger and pressed it against his heart. He could feel her shaking.

“If you ever want my help again then you will keep me in the loop at all times. I was there before and after Blake worked beside us. I had every right to know about you being alive as much as she did.” Ilia would never admit it to anybody but as much as she was crushed when Blake fell for Adam, she couldn’t help but feel angry when both began undervaluing her contribution. Like they say, three is a crowd.

Adam removed Ilia’s finger and nodded. “Hehe, I can accept those rules.”

“What’s so funny huh? Ugh, you really know how to tick a person off.”

“Nothing. Just…everyone is mad at me for something different. Hard to keep track of it all. Guess being a leader was doomed after all. I don’t get any of you. I can’t help but laugh at myself.” He chuckled to himself.

The strange humor of it all caused Jacquelyn to join in quietly while Ilia rolled her eyes and let things be as they were. She said her peace. Ruby though, she couldn’t help but look at the three of them, Adam specifically. There he was, a person recently beaten to near death, laughing at his own past mistakes in a world that didn’t want him.

“Hmmm I don’t get it. What was scary about this guy?”