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sugar-soda · 3 months ago

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Kids Shouldn't be Here: Piper Wright

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

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Diamond City wasn't always the perfect place to raise a kid.

Sure, there were a lot of pros to the place. Big sturdy wall to keep the rest of the Commonwealth out, plenty of food and shelter, and plenty of services that you couldn't get anywhere else, like haircuts and a year round doctor. Hell, they even had a school. So many in the Commonwealth couldn't even read and the children of Diamond City got to learn that along with science, math, and history. So yes, there were some good reasons to have a kid there.

If anyone were to ask about this to the Mayor, he would puff up like a peacock and proudly state that “children were the Commonwealth's future,” and “it takes a city to raise a child,” and other nonsense like he was still campaigning for office.

If you were to ask someone who was not the Mayor, they would tell you that the city was nice, but it still had problems.

For one thing, with 2 bars and a chems dealer right in the market, there were plenty of chances for any kid looking for mischief to swipe a Mentat or a bottle of beer when no one is looking. Dr. Sun had taken to meticulous combing through his inventory everyday to make sure he didn't become a target of little, sticky fingers as well.

While they didn't have to worry about their kid being killed, the concerns were replaced e with others that were almost pre-war in nature. After all, they couldn't attach their child to the hip like in small settlements, so the children were left to run amuck with no supervision between school letting out and their parents coming home. Between those times the adults would worry.

Did their kid do their assigned reading? Would they eat their tatos for dinner later or would they insist on surviving off of sugar bombs and snack cakes? What if they fell and hurt themselves on the rusty, dirty metal that made up most of the city and get an infection? Were they leaving poor Sheffield in peace? Were the other kids playing nice?

Those ran through their minds until they could go home.

The suspension was also something everyone dealt with. The Institute had rooted itself into everyone's mind as the Commonwealth's boogeyman, and no one could sleep at night anymore. Anyone could be kidnapped and replaced by an identical synth, so anyone could be a threat. Trust was in short supply, so there would never be that sense of community other settlements had. Every man was for himself. But no good man could go without his children.

____________________________________________________________

If you were to ask Piper Wright, she would say she is great with kids. After all, she raised her sister Nat, and she's great in Piper's biased opinion. Nat was smart, sassy, and incredibly self-sufficient. Piper liked to think she made Dad proud with how she raised Nat.

As self-sufficient as her sister is, that doesn't mean Piper thought she could live entirely on her own. Which is exactly why Danny needed to stop screwing around and open the gate!

“Danny, I swear to God, if you don't open this gate and let me in you will be sorry. I’m standing out here in the open for God’s sake!”

“I got orders to not let you in, Ms. Piper. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job. The mayor’s pretty steamed about your last article. Said it was nothing but lies”

Ah. Right. In hindsight, accusing McDonough of being a synth was probably going to get her in trouble. But not like this! She thought she'd get another lecture she wouldn't listen to or a fine she'd never pay.

She left the city this morning to interview a few guards on duty. The barracks nowadays were too small and the guards too many. So her next article was a push to expand their barracks up into the stands. The rich folk already living up there will complain about “ruffians” being in the stands, even if they would be on the opposite side of the city, so she had to get everyone else on the same page to get the expansion approved. Which she couldn't do if she couldn't go home!

“God damn it, Danny! You can't just lock me out! I live here!” Piper slammed her hand against the speaker.

As Danny told her to lie low for a few days and let the Mayor cool down, she caught the tiniest movement to her left. She squinted against the harsh afternoon sun and saw a rather…odd group was making way toward the entrance.

The most notable was the Mr. Handy, or Miss Nanny, she never could really tell the difference. While Diamond City had its own share of non-humanoid robots and she herself had gotten a few drinks from Whitechapel Charlie when visiting Goodneighbor for a story, all of them were in cities, places where there was supplies and space to do maintenance to keep them running smoothly. Seeing them out of the city normally meant to turn tail and run as it shot lasers and tried to make you into minced meat with its saw blade. This one, luckily, didn't seem like it was crazy. It floated gently alongside its companions, keeping its three eyes on a swivel.

The second was a man. Judging by his militia hat, he was a Minuteman. Huh. She thought they were all gone after Quincy. That tragedy had destroyed a lot of people's faith in the cause. Piper was the first in Diamond City to hear about it, having heard about it from Mayor Hancock himself while visiting Goodneighbor. She cried her way through a whole pack of cigarettes before typing up the article. Like hell she was gonna let McDonough tell the city first and try to spin all those deaths into some Diamond-City-Superiority propaganda bullshit.

He tried when he made a speech about two days after she made Nat hand deliver a copy to everyone in Diamond City. By then everyone knew what happened. It was the least she could do.

Her eyes narrowed in suspension. If he was alive now, there was a high chance he was one of the ones who didn't respond when the emergency call happened. Coward. She would have to keep an eye on him.

The last person had her back to her, with a duffle bag slung across her shoulders and a pale purple ribbon holding any hairs that escaped her messy twin braids out of her face. A sharp looking sniper rifle accompanied the duffle bag. Looks like she was just a kid, judging by the height difference. Strange. She didn't share any physical traits with the Minuteman, so Piper wouldn't guess they were related. Unless they were distantly related, or the kid was adopted, or maybe they were related through marriage?

The Minuteman stopped to talk to a guard, likely asking about the city. The girl shifted on her feet, obviously impatient to go. The duffle bag moved and revealed a tiny shoulder wrapped in blue and gold numbers across her back.

So the kid was a vault dweller then. That kinda made sense. She probably was sent out to do trading for supplies and the Minuteman was likely her guard and the Mr. Handy was probably from the vault too.

Piper wrinkles her nose in distaste. Why would they send someone so young? Someone older wouldn't get scammed to hell and back at least.

Piper hadn't realized she was staring until the kid started staring back. Those big eyes seemed to stare into her soul, full of curiosity and questions. Just what Piper needed. While Danny always tried to follow orders, he could be a bit of a soft touch for kids. She's seen him sneaking books he bought from traders into the school. His bleeding heart was her ticket in.

“Psst. Hey, kid.” Piper tried to keep her voice at a volume where the speaker wouldn't pick her up. The girl looked around to see who she was addressing before pointing at herself quizzically.

“Yes, you. Come here.”

The girl peaked over at her guard, who was still talking. At some point, the Mr. Handy had joined the conversation, leaving her in the clear. She silently shuffled over and leaned closer.

“You wanna get into Diamond City, right?” The Vault Dweller nodded quickly, large eyes still unblinking. “Play along. I'll get us both in.” Piper leaned back toward the speaker, raising her voice exaggeratedly. “What's that, kid? You're here all on your own? What about your parents?”

Luckily, the kid picked up on Piper's plan. “ Oh, my parents are…they're gone,”

“ You hear that, Danny? You really going to leave a little kid out here, all alone, surrounded by raiders, and super mutants, and ferals and-”

“Okay, okay! Geez Piper, way to lay on the guilt trip. I'll open the gate up but McDonough better not be on my ass about this.”

A loud beep resounded out and Piper couldn't help but feel smug. That feeling didn’t last long as Mayor McDonough was already there, sour expression making even a radroach look pleasant.

“Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut! You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The-the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have that printer scrapped for parts.”

God, this man made her blood boil. It was like his voice was nails on a chalkboard every time he opened his mouth. “ Oooh, that's a statement, Mr. McDonough? ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?’ Why don’t we ask the newcomer, huh? Do you support the news? Cause the Mayor is threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster.”

McDonough seemed to just register the kid, who had stopped her trek inside to wait for the Minuteman and Mr. Handy, who had finished talking to the guard. She clearly wasn’t expecting someone to drag her into the argument, startling at being addressed.

“Piper! You can’t expect a child to understand the delicate situati-”

“My dad always said that politicians who try to control the press are the ones who know that they are doing something wrong.”

Piper barely held back the sputtering laugh. She wasn’t expecting such a harsh reply to the Mayor but it was sure funny.

McDonough quickly tried to pivot back to his ‘for the people’ persona as the Minuteman and Mr. Handy joined them.

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to get involved with our argument, young miss. No, no, no, why you and your father look like Diamond City material,” McDonough said. His eyes were glued to the Mr. Handy, knowing that if they could afford to keep a Mr. Handy while on the road, they likely could afford to stay a while.

The Vaultie squinted at him confused. “Father?” she asked, before realizing, “Oh, you mean Mr. Preston? He’s not my dad, he’s just a friend.” The Minuteman stepped forward and held his hand out to shake the Mayor’s hand, but his expression could best be described as thinly veiled annoyance. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. I escorted Miss Sunny here from a new settlement up North.”

Ha. Called it. Piper knew they couldn’t be related, though now she wonders how recently the Vault opened, if it had started a new settlement and she hadn’t heard about it. Vault dwellers typically didn't like to leave their underground homes, even if they did open for trade. At least that's what the folks in Vault 81 did, from what she heard.

The mayor at least had the decency to look embarrassed by his assumption, a faint blush dusting across his face before he tried to cover it with a cough.

“Ahem, well, I can assure you that the trip will be more than worth it. Diamond City has all the finest comforts: a safe, comfortable place to rest your head, great food, and anything you could dream of can be found in our fine market stalls. Was there anything in particular that you were looking for, young miss?”

Garvey’s face shifted slightly from annoyance to sympathy, focusing on the girl (he said her name was Sunny, right?) who’s expression dropped from a polite, neutral face to fragile, fearful hope. Even the Mr. Handy seemed sad, which was almost impressive given its lack of face. Whatever they were here for, Piper guessed it wasn’t a shopping spree in the market.

“We were informed this would be the best place to look for help in finding a missing person,” the Mr. Handy said, posh British accent clear as the day he came off the assembly line. Damn. Another missing person? That would make 4 in as many months. And that would only count the ones Piper knew about. Who knew if anyone else had been taken and replaced by a perfect look alike. The ones not replaced just added to the fear of who had been, and if they could trust them should they ever return. A city filled with suspicion but no help. Diamond City Security wouldn’t hear anything about missing people and any complaints to the Mayor were tossed in the trash. Piper would know, she dug through it. “An infant boy was taken from Vault 111 and we are most fearful of what could have happened to him.”

“He’s my baby brother,” Sunny said, her voice cracking like she was about to cry “His name is Shaun. He’s only a few months old and I need to find him but I don’t know where else to look.” Piper’s heart broke for the girl. She was so young, she couldn’t be older than Nat. She didn’t want to imagine her sister out by herself out here in the wastes. And she was looking for her brother? A baby? The whole situation was heartbreaking.

Crap. That line she said about her parents being gone wasn't just a fib was it? Now Piper just felt like an ass.

McDonough's attempt at looking sympathetic was unsuccessful, so he just looked uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, Miss. But Diamond City Security simply doesn't have the time to look into every missing person's case. I'm afraid they're too busy to look for your brother.”

Sunny crumbled and tears started flowing. “You mean we came all this way for nothing?” Garvey looked pissed, opening his mouth to start spitting fire at the useless Mayor, but Piper, in her rage and experience yelling at the spineless bastard, beat him to the proverbial punch.

“Seriously, McDonough? A kid crosses the Commonwealth looking for an infant and you tell her you can't spare one guard to help! What the fuck!”

Sensing the danger he was in from the reporter and Minuteman, McDonough tried to cover himself, “However, there is a private citizen who might be willing to help. Nick Valentine. A…detective of sorts. He specializes in tracking people down. I'm sure he'll be happy to take your case.” That did little to comfort the kid as she kept crying and hiccuping.

“Hey,” Piper said, stepping in front of the girl and leaning down to be closer to eye level with her. “ I know ol’ Nicky myself. He's the best in the business. He'll find your brother, I know he will. Come on now, dry those tears. You can't see your way to his office with blurry eyes.”

Sunny nodded, as she tried to wipe her eyes and nose, even as more tears gathered in her eyes. The Mr. Handy placed a gentle claw on her head. “Come now, Miss Sunny. You can't go into a new city with the sniffles. You need to make a good impression.”

As he fussed over her appearance, Preston said, “Thank you for the help with the Mayor. I don't think he would have given us any information if you didn't put pressure on him.”

“Aww, it's nothing. Giving McDonough a hard time is part of my job. I'm Piper Wright. I write Publik Occurrences articles.” She offered her hand. From the corner of her eye, she caught Mayor McDonough just as he fled up the stairs. The Mayor of Diamond City, folks! Makes kids cry and leaves you to clean up the mess.

Preston smiled, “Oh, so that's what that yelling was about,”

“Well, not everyone wants to know the truth. But don't let me bore you with my job. You’re here to see Valentine, right?” She took a quick glance over him, trying to see if there were numbers on his coat or any significant markers of which Minuteman company he was part of. She didn't know exactly how Minuteman identified each other, but she knew only one company responded to Concord's call for help. Colonel Holis was their leader, she thinks. If Piper could figure out which company he was in, she could know if she could trust him to not tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble.

“That will be our first stop after we get supplies, though we could use some directions. This is my first time in the city.”

“Sure thing,” Piper agreed, “follow me. Won't get anything done standing in the entrance.”

“Sunny,” Preston said “come on, I want you to stay in my sights the entire time we are here,”

“Ok, Mr. Preston,” She said, drying the last of her tears. Her face was still red and puffy and downtrodden but she was calmer now. Holding on to one of the Mr. Handy's arms, she was gently led to join them toward the steps.

As they walked, Sunny looked at Piper, “Thank you for helping us get in, Miss Piper. Sorry we got you in trouble.”

Piper smiled gently at the girl, “Don't worry about it, I was already in trouble with him. You guys didn't do anything.”

Sunny and the Mr. Handy crossed the threshold first and stopped to stare. “Wooow,” Sunny drawed out, “it looks really different from before, Codsworth.”

“Quite different,” the Mr. Handy, who Piper now knew was Codsworth, replied, “but I do believe that the change is not all that bad. It has quite a lot of character if I do say so myself!”

“Welcome to Diamond City,” Piper grinned and pointed down to Nat yelling out the headlines, “ See that girl down there? That's my sister, Nat. She can give you a good run-down of the place if you ask.”

Sunny looked over at Preston, silently asking for permission before taking off once he gave it. Nat immediately jumped into her sales pitch, but Piper knew she would be excited about a new kid when she got out of “work mode”. Even if she did have a robot following her around.

“So, Preston,” Piper started, her eyes not leaving the pair as they talked, “I'm surprised you've never been here before. I thought being a Minuteman meant you got to travel all over.”

Preston started going down the steps at a slow pace as he answered. “Typically, you are right. I've been everywhere from Bunker Hill to the edge of the Glowing Sea. I guess Diamond City is just so well protected, it never needed to call for help.”

She continued pressing. “Anyplace interesting? I've only been as far as Goodneighbor and that only takes half a day.” She needed to know if this guy had really ignored Quincy's need for help or had just not been told by his superiors. If he really did turn his back on the settlement, Piper was sure he'd do the same to the kid.

“In recent memory? Sanctuary has been the best. It's this old Pre-war subdivision that Sunny showed us after we met in Concord. It's peaceful, with plenty of space to grow food, a small river, and isolated enough that raiders aren't too big of a worry.”

Damn it. Nothing. Piper decided for a more direct approach. “Anywhere else? Like…I don't know…Quincy?”

Preston stopped so abruptly that Piper nearly ran into him. He turned around and his face had changed from a kind, strong Minuteman to a stern, angry soldier.

“If that is your way of asking if I was at the Quincy Massacre, yes, I was. I was there as my entire company died one by one waiting for backup. I was there when I realized I was the only one left and Colonel Holis was dead and no one was coming. I had to make the decision to retreat with what few survivors left in hopes their sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. And I was there as we wandered through the Commonwealth looking for somewhere that we can be safe. So yes, I have been to Quincy.” He turned back around sharply and continued down in a march.

Shit. So he did go to Quincy's aid. And paid heavily for it, if he was the last one left. Today was just the day Piper insulted everyone, huh?

“Wait, Preston!” Piper quickly moved in front to stop him from storming off. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything.”

He scoffed.

“It's just that… When Quincy happened, everyone was devastated. The Minutemen were supposed to help people! Now, we don't know if we can trust the few left. I didn't know if you were gonna run and leave that girl behind when things get dangerous. But I am sorry. I can only imagine how terrifying it was going through all of that.”

Piper hoped he would accept the apology. She already made enough enemies by exposing scumbags with the paper. She had no desire to add a genuinely good person to that group.

Preston exhaled deeply through his nose before all the rage seemed to drain out of him. Leaving behind only a man who looked really, really tired.

“I understand,” he said. “ Just don’t bring it up again.”

Piper agreed quickly, just as Sunny came running back up to them. The bright, cobalt blue of her vault-suit stood out like a beacon against the faded reds, browns, and grays of the city. Even when partially hidden by the brown of her leather armor, the only thing that rivaled that suit's color was the jewel green wall that gave the city its nickname.

“Do you charge for your paper, Miss Piper? Cause your sister completely forgot about that if you do.” Even as she spoke, Sunny’s eyes roamed around the scenery. It was probably super different from the vault she grew up in. Piper had never been in one before, but she was pretty sure she would react the same way Sunny is if she went inside one.

“It's on the house for first timers, kid. Next time you're gonna have to cough up some caps.” She quipped, even as the wheels in her head started turning. Sunny couldn't have been out of the vault for too long. What did someone who was raised on pre-war values, with pre-war history, surrounded by pre-war technology think of this post-war society? What did she learn in her classroom that's been lost to time for them? What stayed the same no matter where she was?

“Thank you very much for the assistance, Miss Piper.” Codsworth said, “ You said that you did know the way to Detective Valentine's place of work, correct?”

Snapping out of her thoughts and coming back to the present, Piper nodded her head. “Right. Sorry about that,” She pointed toward the space past Moe Cronin and his swatters. “Go past all the stores and take a hard right into the alleyway. Valentine Detective Agency is the only thing down that way and it has a neon sign to boot, so you won't miss it.”

Sunny nodded her head along to Piper's instructions then looked at Preston, expecting him to say something. He was silent for a moment, leaving an awkward tension in the air as Sunny’s gaze flicked between them confused. Piper wondered which would win? His lingering anger and offense or the exhaustion that now seemed to settle deep into his bones.

The exhaustion won as he simply said. “ You take care, Miss Wright. We won't keep you any longer.” He gently placed a hand on Sunny’s back and started leading her away. Codsworth gave his own polite wave and farewell before following, but Piper had her focus back on that blue suit.

Sunny looked back at her and waved over her shoulder, giving a toothy grin. The dark screen of her pip-boy caught the light of the sun and gleamed slightly. The thing looked so big and bulky on such a small arm.

Piper decided to go with her half-baked idea and quickly caught up with the group, placing a hand on Sunny’s shoulder opposite of Preston. “Hold on a minute, Blue. I got one more thing to ask ya.” The new nickname slipped out easily past her lips. It seemed to fit the girl as well as her actual name.

Sunny didn't seem to notice what Piper had called her, or at least didn't acknowledge it. She turned back around and cocked her head, slightly confused on what the woman could need from her. Preston looked somewhat annoyed at being stopped yet again, but he didn't look as mad as Piper thought he would. Codsworth even seemed curious, continually zooming and un-zooming on her.

“What do you need, Miss Piper?”

“How do you feel about doing an interview for Publik Occurrences?”

“Huh?” Sunny’s brows furrowed in further confusion. “Interview? What do I need to do an interview for?”

“I want to put your story in print,” Piper told her. “I think it's time Diamond City and the Commonwealth to have some outside perspective. You haven't been outside the vault for very long right? So, you could provide a fresh pair of eyes to what everyone thinks is normal.”

Sunny stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Okay, but I’ll have to do it later. We need supplies and I need Detective Valentine’s help.”

____________________________________________________________

It was late into the evening when Piper heard a polite knock on her door. All the shops had closed down and a dinner of cram and salisbury steak had long been eaten. Piper had finished up her last touches on her article and was writing down questions to ask the young vault dweller up in the loft and Nat was patching up a tiny tear in her coat. Having been grounded for getting detention while she was away, she was banned from playing with her toys, comics, and magazines until the end of the week. As her guardian, Piper had to be responsible and teach Nat that she should have talked to the teacher instead of punching a boy in the nose when he wouldn’t leave her alone. As her sister, Piper was damn proud.

“I got it,” Nat piped up, setting her sewing down easily. Piper was glad she actually enjoyed the activity cause she never had, nor did she have the patience for it. It was a necessary chore that needed to be done if you wanted to have decent clothes in the Commonwealth. Unless you were a yuppie in the Stands who could shell out the caps for new clothes when your old ones were ruined, someone in the house had to pick up a needle and thread.

Piper kept her focus on her notepad, wondering if asking a Vault Dweller if they were technically inbred was inappropriate before scratching the idea away completely.

“Hey, Piper? That vault dweller and her bodyguard are here to see you.” Piper finally looked away from her work and down toward the door. Sure enough, Sunny, Preston, and Codsworth were in her home. Sunny trying to diligently kick the dirt off her boots and Preston realizing it wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Hey! Glad you guys remembered!” Piper shoved her notepad in her pocket and descended the stairs. Now on the ground floor, she got a side by side comparison of Nat and Sunny.

Okay. Maybe she was older than Nat. While the girl still held baby fat on her face like her sister, Sunny was several inches taller. She seemed…smoother, too. She didn’t have all the small scars across her hands Nat did have from handling paper and the printing press everyday. Her face didn’t have a random cut or bruise that kids normally sported around here due to falling and eating dirt. Nat and other young girls kept their hair chin length, so as to not have to spend a ton of time taking care of it. Even Piper made sure her hair never got past her shoulders. Sunny’s went past that, probably longer if they were out of the braids.

It was like she was missing parts that Piper was used to seeing in kids, and had them swapped with completely foreign ones. Vault kids really were an entire different breed from Commonwealth kids it seems.

“Hello, Miss Piper. Sorry for coming by so late but we are just stopping to tell you that we are going to have to delay that interview until later.”

Piper raised her eyebrow. Why stop and tell her if they decided not to do the interview? Did she anger Preston enough for him to forbid the interview? No, he would have shot down the idea when it was brought up and wouldn't show up to delay it. Did someone bad-mouth her enough in the market for them to change their minds? She wasn't exactly friends with most of them, but she didn't think any of them hated her enough to actively discourage an interview. Did they…

“Did Valentine forget to show some of that Diamond City hospitality? Normally, he’s better about that,” Piper tried to joke. Nick was always willing to help anyone who needed it, but a lot of people were put off by the bolts and exposed wires. If they were rude about the whole “prototype synth with memories from a pre-war cop” thing, she wouldn’t be surprised if he kicked them out.

“Unfortunately, Detective Valentine was not there to receive us, only his assistant.” Codsworth answered.

“Miss Woods says he left to investigate a kidnapping by a gang led by a man named Skinny Malone and hasn’t returned. Does the name ring any bells?” Preston continued.

Piper’s mind went right back into work mode. Going over to one of her filing cabinets, she opened a random drawer and started flitting through the unorganized papers. “Nat, where’s my files on Skinny Malone and his gang?,”

Nat shot over another cabinet, “His personal file is here,” a quick shuffle and Nat pulled out a folder.

Another cabinet and quick shuffle, “His gang's criminal history is here.”

Tucking under Piper, she closed the first drawer and opened the one below it, “And every article about their crimes are here.” She closed the drawer with her elbow and handed her sister the now decent stack of paper.

“Why do you know my system better than I do?”

“‘Cause you don’t have a system at all.”

Piper pulled out his personal file and the crime list. Handing the personal file over to Preston, she gave a quick rundown, “Skinny Malone is a small-time gang leader who wants to make it big. He grew up here in Diamond City. His family was well-off in the Stands, and spoiled him to be more rotten than brahmin shit. His dad cut him off 20 years ago after an altercation that ended with Skinny in the city jail, and told him that his bail would be the last time he spent caps on him. Skinny couldn’t handle an actual job, so he shot his parents in the head, took all the caps they had, and started his own gang .”

Preston followed her explanation on the paper, a serious look on his face. “And one of this gang’s crimes is kidnapping?”

Piper started skimming the list of crimes, cursing herself for not at least alphabetizing the stupid thing. Robbery, Assault, Murder- the whole thing was copied down as his crime list grew but kidnapping wasn’t one of them. She chewed on a nail.

“Nothing on kidnapping, but I do know he’s got a thing for pretty ladies way too young for him, and doesn’t like to be told no. If one got his interest enough and rejected him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to just take the poor girl.”

“Miss Woods said that he was investigating Penn Street Station. We are going there to see if Detective Valentine needs help.” Sunny stated. “If he is as good as everyone says, I bet the girl will be there too.”

Piper flicked her eyes back over to the group before handing the paper back to Nat and heading past the couch. “Penn Street Station is past all the guard stations and is a good walk away. When are we leaving?”

Sunny immediately caught the addition in the question. “I’m sorry, we?” Piper had picked up her 10mm pistol and was now counting her bullets.

“Yes, we. Valentine has been a part of Diamond City for as long as I can remember and he’s my friend. If you guys are staging his rescue, I’m coming.” Satisfied with the amount of ammo she had, she put her pistol in the pocket opposite of her notepad and pencil. She’ll need that too.

“Besides,” she added, “I still want that interview.”

____________________________________________________________

They had to leave Codsworth behind. Sunny had pitched a massive fit over it, but it was sadly the most practical. Penn Street Station would be crawling with Skinny’s gang, so a stealth approach would be needed. Codsworth was just too loud, his engine, singular thruster, and multiple arms always making an audible noise. His shiny metal finish and inability to crouch made him a giant silver beacon. It was only after she was told that he would stay at Publik Occurances and Piper lied that Nat needed someone to watch her for the night did Sunny agree to him being left behind. (Nat never needed anyone to watch her and had glared at Piper for saying that.)

By the time they had left the city and passed all the guards, the moon was high in the sky and the streets were quiet. Piper fished her notepad and pencil out of her pocket and flipped to the questions she prepared earlier. Not as many as she would have usually liked to have, but she could improvise a few if needed.

“So Blue, you up to answering a few questions for me?,” Piper asked the girl in front of her. A Stealth-boy had been attached to the girl’s armor and her rifle now held steadily in her hands. It looked so big in her hands, Piper couldn’t believe she used it.

Sunny turned slightly to glance at the reporter. “Why do you keep calling me that? Blue?” she asked.

'Cause of the blue jumpsuit you're wearing?,” Piper answered, “You're a Vault dweller. That and the Pip-boy are dead giveaways.”

Sunny pulled at her collar and looked down to inspect her outfit. “Nothing else that fits me is any good. Everything else is either too big, in shreds, or a dress. I even have to tighten up the armor that I’m wearing with it as tight as it can go.”

Piper smiled and continued, “ I'm going to ask you a few basic questions first, just some simple information until I get to the bigger questions.”

“Okay.”

“Name?”

“ Sunny Evangeline Roberts.”

“Birthday?”

“April 4th.”

“Vault?”

“111. It's on my suit.”

“Age?”

“12, technically.”

Piper frowned at that answer. “What do you mean by ‘technically’?”

“I mean, I'm only technically 12. If we actually counted the years between now and when I was born, it would be about 212 years.”

If Piper had a drink, she would have choked on it. Instead, she just choked on her spit. Sunny’s tone didn’t sound like she was joking but Piper couldn’t imagine her being serious. The only ones who lived that long were ghouls and Sunny had the very strong distinction of having a nose. As she was trying to regain her breath, Preston lightly scolded the girl.

“Sunny, you can’t just tell people like that.”

“But you told Paladin Danse, why can’t I tell Miss Piper? If she is gonna write about me, she’s got to know.”

Piper couldn’t believe they were so casual about this. “Wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you’re over 200 years old?” she asked, voice jumping higher and louder than she meant it to.

“All Vault-Tec Vaults had an experiment built in,” Preston answered seriously, “none of them were good, which is why most are either abandoned or destroyed from the inside. Vault 111 put all of the original residents in cryogenic suspension.”

“They didn’t tell us,” Sunny’s voice had a hard and shaky tone to it, like she was trying to be tough but couldn’t. “No one would have agreed to it otherwise. It was too risky. So, they lied and told us the pods were for decontamination. ”

“Oh god, Blue.” Piper’s brain was having a bit of trouble catching up. This kid was old enough to be her great-great-something-grandmother. She had seen the bombs fall. She didn’t know anything about Vault-life, but knew everything about before the war like it was yesterday, because to her, it was yesterday. Most of her questions no longer applied, but a million more took their place in her head, and over half of them would be twice as insensitive as the inbreeding question.

“How…how did…how did you get out? When did this happen? ” Piper’s mouth finally settled on.

Sunny kept walking, but her steps slowed down and her hold on her rifle became looser. “ About two weeks ago. There was a malfunction in my pod. The fact that it was able to still open after not being maintained is nothing short of a miracle.”

Preston now slowed his pace to match Sunny’s, and Piper had to slow now too so as to not topple over the girl. Their brisk walking pace was now a shuffle. Piper’s pencil seemed to move on its own as it wrote down Sunny’s answer.

“Did anyone else make it?” Piper asked softly.

“No. Mom and Dad were killed when Shaun was taken and life support failed for everyone else.” Sunny’s nails dug into grip, scratching at the faux leather. “The scientists and guards that were supposed to watch us had some sort of…fight? Rebellion? Whatever happened between them, when I got out, all that was left was bones. Codsworth was the first person I found when I got out.”

Piper bit her tongue to avoid adding any commentary to the girl’s tale and just asked her question, “Why was your family allowed in the vault? I know only specific people were allowed in each one, or else we wouldn’t have so many ghouls.”

“Vault 111 was advertised as a military vault. They said it was to honor and thank our great American heroes, both past and present. Dad was retired military. His squad were the first to test out new Power Armor on the field, so they were really important. He injured his leg when I was nine, so he was honorably and medically discharged.”

Piper couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Was he the one who showed you how to use this giant thing?” She reached over Sunny and tapped her pencil against the stock of the gun gently.

She couldn’t see it, but a small smile was now on Sunny’s face. “Yeah, he did,” she reminisced, “After he retired, he stayed home while Mom went to work, taking care of the house and me. He was a bit paranoid afterward. He saw things while deployed, but they never told me what it was. He wanted to make sure I would be safe, so he taught me and Mom how to shoot, how to hunt and gather food, how to get clean water, stuff like that. I complained at the time, but now? I don’t think I’d be alive without them.”

Sunny looked up at the crumbling towers and shining stars. “Even with how worried about the future he was, I don’t think he could have imagined it being like this. Otherwise, I don’t think they would have had Shaun.” She looked straight ahead at Preston’s back again.

Piper was going to need to sharpen her pencil, trying to keep up with the girl’s words. She knew what the girl ment. If her brother was just an infant, there was a big age gap between the two, just like her and Nat. If their Dad had survived and their Mom stuck around, Piper wouldn’t have to play the stressful balancing act between sister and parent. She loved her sister with all of her heart, but Piper sometimes resented the responsibility on her shoulders. Sunny’s parents were now gone, and she was putting herself in the role of a mother on a mission to find her baby. After a beat of writing, she spoke again.

“What do you think of this?”

Sunny turned her head to look back at her. “Huh?” “All of this. What do you think of it? It's obviously different from before the war. I think everyone needs to hear how we are doing in comparison to before.” Sunny was silent for a short while, tumbling the answer around in her head. “ Things are different, that’s true. We didn’t have raiders and our toilets worked and the cows had only one head. My parents were here and my brother was safe. The buildings were safer and there was a lot more of everything.”

She paused as they had to climb over a large amount of debris. The rubble was loose and unsafe to walk on, so crawling uncomfortably on their hands and knees over it was the best way to get around the rocks and concrete.

“There is good though,” she started again, “I have Codsworth, and I met Mr. Preston, and Dogmeat, and Paladin Danse, and everyone back at Sanctuary. Some things are different, but still nice. Diamond City was beautiful in a way I have never seen and when there aren't gunshots, everything is so quiet. And so many people are trying. They are trying to survive, and build homes, and have families. They have hope, so I have hope I can find my brother and have a good life.”

Piper smiled and scribbled down the last words of Sunny’s little speech. This was a lot to work with, and Piper didn’t want to cut anything. She hoped her old printer would survive all the extra work and not kick the bucket like Nat keeps saying. Once she finished her notes, she looked back through quickly, and found something that brought up another question.

“What’s a cow?”

#child sole #child! sole survivor #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 companions #fo4 piper #fallout piper #fallout 4 piper #piper wright #fo4 piper wright #fallout 4 piper wright #fallout piper wright #kid sole survivor #kid sole

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kaigarax · 2 years ago

Text

To My First Love

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Quote: “Fall in love with someone when you’re with them.”

Oikawa falls in love like the ending of a song. His journey tells tales of perseverance, heartbreak and adventure. And at the end, despite all melancholy and anticipation, he finally allows himself to fall into what he has always known will come.

---

“And oh, what a beautiful contradiction falling in love was.”

Oikawa made a face, “that’s so cheesy, (Y/n).”

You laughed, putting the book down and looking towards Oikawa who was now sprawled across his bed, “and what do you think love is, Mr. Heartbreaker?”

Oikawa is certain you expect some snooty and half assed response. It’s almost exactly what he would have given you if he had been but a few years younger. Now, he ponders for a brief while before smiling while thinking back to his own experiences with the strange phenomenon known as love.

He thinks he shall impart some of his wisdom, be it a small amount, onto you.

“Well, love is pure and kind. It’s giving your everything to someone else without reservations and not expecting anything in return.” Oikawa turned to look at you before a flush coloured his face, “if that makes sense.”

Perhaps his explanation was a little too… in depth? He knows you haven’t had much experience with romantic relationships (none at all) so he isn’t sure if the concept will appear cohesive or alien to you.

“Yeah, it makes sense.” you reply. Oikawa lets out a small sigh of relief (because he won’t have to elaborate further) while you plop down beside him, “so tell me about her.”

“Her?”

“Well, from the way you spoke about it, I can definitely tell there’s someone you’ve been in love with. I just assumed it was a girl with all the girlfriends you’ve had.” you gave the setter a shrug, “but no judgement from me if it’s a guy.”

Oikawa gave you a light shove, “come on.”

“What? Iwaizumi is a pretty good looking guy and the two of you are pretty close~”

“(Y/n).”

“Alright, alright!” You laughed, “so tell me about your first love.”

---

The rallies of the game had been long and the anticipation of the audience only seemed to be rising. Oikawa’s nerves from the beginning of the game have long evaporated, replaced with watered down gatorade and exhaustion.

He’s sweaty, tired and sore. All he wants to do after this match is take a long shower.

This game is tiring.

This game is dragging out.

And this game is paradise.

This is where Oikawa Tooru wants to be for the rest of his life.

The world seems to move differently as he makes his way to the right spot (just exactly at two and a half) just as he has done so many times before.

All his blood, sweat and tears have narrowed down to this single moment. Everything here will determine if he is worthy of his position or if he will be cast down from paradise.

And as the ball touches his fingers Oikawa thinks to himself that there will never be anything in the world that can rival this feeling he feels while in the midst of a game. That there is no other thing in this world that can make him feel so flustered and brave at the same time. He thinks that if there is only one wish he could ever make then this is it.

He wants to experience this exact moment over and over again.

Even as his teammate stumbles to hit the perfect set Oikawa knows that this is it.

That he has reached the pinnacle of his life’s meaning and there will never be anything more.

Of course, like all young and naive children, Oikawa doesn't understand just how fast the euphoria and dopamine come crashing down. It hits harder than a spike to the face as the ball falls from the net to the ground.

He did everything he could, and still it wasn’t enough.

Many adults will find it difficult to comprehend the complexities of a child’s emotions. Especially when contrasted with the simplicity of a child’s mind. The height from which Oikawa had fallen was one he might never recover from. Truly it was such a shame that the match had gone this way.

Oikawa is in every way a loser.

A failure.

His mother and father will not have the words to console him and they likely won’t understand how he’s feeling. In their own minds (which have been programmed to be strictly rational) Oikawa has tried his best. It’s not his fault another boy hit a ball into the net. Yet he will still feel the crash.

The burning sensation of a loss.

Something that will either make or break him.

Oh how cruel life is.

But cruelty is beautiful. It’s beautiful in the strange sort of way that makes you cry. Perhaps it’ll make you a stronger person one day and when you look back you’ll be thankful. Right now though, Oikawa’s heart isn't sure if he’ll ever be thankful even if his mind says otherwise.

And then ques the entrance of you.

Your eyes are bright and shining. They’re filled with so much awe and excitement that Oikawa feels that feeling infect his own being.

Oikawa may be a smart child but he is still a child.

Everything seems to flash past him as you give him that smile reserved strictly for him.

“You’re amazing, Oikawa!” You exclaim.

It’s a strange feeling that overwhelms him. It feels as though everything has suddenly halted and standing here with him is just you and him. Him and you. You’ve always been the girl next door, someone Oikawa has seen everyday but only now does he suddenly realise how pretty you are. The way the light seems to reflect off your face makes the expression in your eyes so much gentler and your hair seems to be done just right.

You’re standing here across from him, praising him for something he’s done. You’re here admiring something he’s poured his heart, body and soul into and it’s the most romantic thing he’s ever seen in his (eight years of) life.

This is a moment that will linger with him forever.

“Thanks,” Oikawa isn’t sure what to say and so he stumbles out words he will regret for the rest of his life. “Keep your eyes on me.”

In retrospect, the words don’t haunt him for the rest of his life but he definitely thinks that there are better things he could have said. You teased him about it for a short while but Oikawa doubts you still remember those words now. You’ve met so many other people and experienced so much more of life.

“Well, my first love was-”

“(Y/n)-chan!” Oikawa’s mother (well, Mrs. Oikawa) burst into the room with a bright smile on her face, “I didn’t know you were in town!”

You’re quick to leave your spot beside Oikawa as you greet his mother.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude. My mother and I came into town to visit her sister and my cousin. My cousin ended up catching the flu so I was wandering around when I ran into Tooru.” you explained.

Mrs. Oikawa smirked, “and he brought you up here to his room?”

“Yeah, he wanted to give me this book.”

Mrs. Oikawa nodded along but Oikawa could tell she didn’t buy her words, “so do you plan on staying for dinner?”

“Oh no.” you apologised, “I have to catch the train back to my cousin's house.”

“Oh, that’s a shame! You know what, before you go could you help me with something? I’m knitting something for Tooru’s older sister and you look to be around the same size as her. Would you mind trying it on for me?”

“Of course.” you said, following Mrs. Oikawa out of the room.

Oikawa isn’t sure if he’s happy you’re gone or not. There is relief of not having to tell you that you’re his first love. Of course, he’s long over you. After having four (or maybe five) girlfriends, Oikawa has gotten over you long ago. He had been perfectly fine with telling you that you were his first love but he wasn’t exactly sure how you would take it.

You’d always been the kind of person that liked admiring people from afar.

He wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship over something that’s happened in the past.

Besides, back when he was in love with you he hadn’t been aware that other girls existed. It had been just volleyball, the other boys that played volleyball and you.

---

Growing up, there had only been two things Oikawa had wanted.

One, he wanted to make it to nationals. At least once in his middle school (which would eventually turn into highschool) years, he wanted to show that he was the best. At first it had been because of his love for the sport. The feeling of being on court was almost unmatched by any other. Then it had eventually transitioned into wanting to beat other people and prove he was the best.

He wanted to feel the euphoria of being on court. The addraline of victory. The determination as he made his way through the ranks.

Each and every step was something he looked forward to. Each and every motion was something that would push him forward and keep him in the paradise that he so loved. Nationals was the pinnacle. It showed to everyone, not just other volleyball players, that you were good (brilliant even) at what you did.

He wanted to be good enough to stand with the best of the best.

And then, secondly, he wanted you.

Not in that possessive and obsessive way but in the way that a boy likes a girl. Something sweet and innocent. In the sort of way where he could hold your hand and know that you also wanted to hold his as well.

You had always been by his side, following him around, but he could never actually call you his. Not that he wanted you to have as a possession of his own! He just… wanted to be with you forever. The way his parents were with each other and the way his sister was with her special friend.

Girls flocked to him constantly. Not just was he good looking but he was kind and charismatic. The perfect combination for a chick magnet. But the only girl’s attention he wanted was yours.

It was horrible.

The worst feeling was the jealousy that came when you spoke to other people with that smile. That smile that made people feel like the center of the world and made their hearts flutter the same way he did. And you were always such a fickle person, giving attention to anyone that caught your interest. Why did you have to be so nice?

He always made sure to walk you to and from school and he liked the rumors it started. Even if you denied the rumors every time. It kept unwanted attention from you.

Oikawa knew he could never stop you from being friends with anyone but that never meant he couldn’t deter you from certain people. Especially people that could swoop in and steal you away.

He wanted to be your first and last boyfriend.

And then came the horrible news.

You and your family were moving away. Into the big city of Tokyo. Your parents had acquired bigger and better jobs which meant you and him would no longer be just a house over. You would still be just a phone call but it would be different when he wouldn’t be able to see your face right after.

Eventually, those feelings that swarmed Oikawa’s chest whenever he thought of you faded away.

His heart stopped racing whenever you crossed his mind.

HIs breathing no longer hitched when he heard someone mention your name.

And it was strangely relieving.

Perhaps he may have lost a little bit of himself but it was now a part of him that was gone and made him stronger. You would become a memory he would think back on and smile. You would be his first love that he would think back on fondly.

Okay, maybe not his first love but his first crush.

“Tooru!”

“Hm?” Oikawa perked his head up at his mother’s loud call.

“You would think that there are bees in your brain.” his mother sighed, “I asked if you could grab the pot. The one on the top shelf.”

Oikawa nodded, “okay.”

His mother sighed again, “what’s gotten you in such a dazed mood?”

“I bet it’s (Y/n)-chan.” teased Oikawa’s older sister.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, “please. I don’t like her that way anymore. She’s just an old childhood friend. I don’t even talk to her that much anymore.”

His sister gave him a strange look, staring at him for a long and uncomfortable moment before turning away, “then don’t regret it when she gets swept off her feet by someone better than you.”

“As if there’s someone better than me out there for her.”

“Oh, there are tons of better guys out there just look at-”

“Oh hush you two, I’ve had to listen to adults bicker about pointless things for hours. I don’t want to have to listen to my grown children bicker about pointless things too,” his mother exclaimed, “and Tooru, are you getting that pot down or what?”

“Oh, right.”

“Did I hear someone mention the (L/n) girl?” Asked his father, peeking his head into the kitchen.

“You mean the one Tooru’s in love with?” teased his sister.

Oikawa scoffed.

“She left her umbrella.”

“Oh, someone should-”

Oikawa was quick to snatch the umbrella from his father and race out the door. Of course you forgot your umbrella and just when it looked like it was going to rain. It looks like you haven’t changed from when you were younger.

Oikawa was never really the mom friend but he always found himself looking after you. Whether intentionally or not.

It’s cute. Not having to take care of you but knowing there are still parts of you that are the same. After seeing you in all those volleyball magazines Oikawa wasn’t sure if you were the same clumsy and impatient girl. He suppose it's nice knowing that there are parts of you that are still.. you.

You’re probably still at the bus stop, right? You did just leave five minutes ago. If you were gone, Oikawa would just wait for another day to give it to you. Besides, it would mean you’re on the bus not getting wet. He would definitely need it more if you’ve already borded the train.

Turning the corner, Oikawa lets out a sigh.

There you are.

He recognizes you immediately despite seeing you from behind. Anticipation tingles from the tips of Oikawa’s fingertips to the edge of his nose. His heart’s thumping erratically as swear forms in the palms of his hand.

It’s as if the stars have aligned just for him as you turn and smile. That one smile that’s reserved strictly for him. Your eyes, with that gleam he’s grown to love, meet his own. Then, his heart stops.

Ah.

He’d forgotten this feeling.

It looks like not much has changed about him either.

Fall in love with someone when you’re with them.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #haikyuu smut #kenma x reader #kenma smut #haikyuu x reader #sweetheart decadence #tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon

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bangtanfancamp · 4 years ago

Text

Champagne Silk | KNJ

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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.

Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.

⋅ author’s masterlist

⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)

⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)

⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader

⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

⋅word count: 15.5k words

⋅rating: mature

⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )

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“Damn it.”

The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.

“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.

“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?”

“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.”

Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.

“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.

“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales.

His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made.

“Oh, Joon.”

A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.

“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.

“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.

Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered.

“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.

“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.

“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.

“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”

His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.”

“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.

Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.

“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.

“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”

Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head.

“No. Not in the slightest.”

“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”

He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”

“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.

“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away.

“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.

“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.”

He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night.

He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.

His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease.

“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”

“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.

“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.

“You never know til you try,” you wink.

“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile.

“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.

There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”

You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.

“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.”

Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.”

“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”

Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.”

Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.

“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.

“For you? Always.”

“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”

“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.”

“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.

“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”

“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”

With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.

“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”

“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.

“How did you even-“

“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”

“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”

“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”

“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”

There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead.

“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.”

When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.

Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.

“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.”

He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”

“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.

“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”

“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”

Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.

“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.

“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte.

Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.

The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.

His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.

“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.

The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.

“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”

Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his.

“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.

“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.”

Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.

“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows.

“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.

“I- I”

“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.

“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.

“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.

“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.

“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.

“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent.

“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”

You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”

Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.

“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”

A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest.

“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.

He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt.

“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin.

“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.

“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.

He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.

“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”

“Then why do you want me to take it off?”

Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.

“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.

Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless.

He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.

Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.

What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.

As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.

“J-joon, baby.. I-“

Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.

“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”

Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.

“But Namjoon…” you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest.

“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”

You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”

“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.”

His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.

“Not… fair…”

He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.

“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”

His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,

his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.

“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”

Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”

As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his.

“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you

“You know, baby girl. You always know.”

As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.

“But you didn’t... say anything.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.

“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”

His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.

His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur.

He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.

His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.

Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.

“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this.

But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.

He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.

“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious.

Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.

“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”

You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.

“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”

You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.

“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”

“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness.

The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.

“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with.

With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop.

Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out.

It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him.

As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection.

When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise.

Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.

That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.

If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.

So he does something about it.

“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now.

Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.

“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.

“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”

“What is it, Joon?”

“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”

With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.

“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.

“Yes, baby? What is it?”

“You. I want you. Please.”

“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.

“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.

The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you.

Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is.

He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it.

It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he��s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.

Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.

He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—

“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”

His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.

You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…

Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you, translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.

You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.

You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.

Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.

“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.

God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.”

Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs.

His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.

There’s nothing more you could ask for.

The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.

Your eyes go wide.

He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed.

And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong.

It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you.

“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge.

“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests.

He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.

You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love.

As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.

“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”

As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.

Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear.

It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.

You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.

You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up.

He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most.

“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide.

“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.

“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.

“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.

“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.

“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.

He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.

“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”

Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.

Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.

To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.

His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven.

When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.

Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?”

“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.

“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.

“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”

“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.

“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.

“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.

“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.

“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent.

“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.

“Namjoon.”

“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.

“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“

You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”

“So my timing wasn’t—“

“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”

Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”

“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.

“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”

“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”

“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“

“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”

He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach.

“But I don’t understand. Why—“

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours.

“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”

Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake.

“But they have tried.”

It's news to you.

“What do you mean… when?”

“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”

“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?”

He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”

Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once.

“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”

“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”

It’s a sobering thought.

“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.

“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect.

“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”

Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes.

“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”

“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”

Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose.

“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”

“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.

“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”

“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.

“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.

Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”

“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.

“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.

“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure.

Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.

You’re shocked. “There— what?”

”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”

You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.

“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”

Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”

His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”

“But I've hardly seen anyone.”

“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you. Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”

“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.

“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”

You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all.

Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go.

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.

“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.

He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.

He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos.

Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day.

As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.

Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you. Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.

Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, baby?”

“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.

“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.

“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”

He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”

“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”

You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”

“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”

He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.

“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”

“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”

“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his.

He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”

You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.

“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?

“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”

And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”

Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”

“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.

“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”

You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“God, you know I am. Thank you.”

His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”

You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall.

But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.

“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”

Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.”

He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.

It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago.

He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.

“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.

“Always,” you answer.

And so the morning resets itself.

The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board.

It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.

Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them.

So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”

“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.

“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.

Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.

You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.

Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread.

It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.

It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else.

As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you.

At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses.

Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.

“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.

“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.”

“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful.

“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him.

“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.

“Me too.”

“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Is that what you want?”

“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.

“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.

“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”

“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”

“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.

“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.

“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.

“Or I could join you in the water.”

When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.

“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”

Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.

“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.

“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.

As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.

He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.

“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.

You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom.

Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.

Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again.

When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.

“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it.

Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go.

You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.

Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.

He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine.

He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone.

He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.

Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.

“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.”

Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.

“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.

You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”

There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.

That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?

“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”

“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.

Oh, you’re good.

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.

As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.

There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.

As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.

He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.

The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time .

Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection.

This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security.

He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.

When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.

Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms not to crest all at once for the both of you.

Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.

Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you.

“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”

Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.

“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.

He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.

“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”

As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd.

“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”

He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.

“What are you even saying down there?”

“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”

“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.

“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him.

“I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yes, love?”

“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.

“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”

-fin.

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whifferdills · 2 years ago

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GALLIFREY: TIME WAR: UNITY: The main victim of Time War's pacing issues: you don't really get that it's been 15 years and two lifetimes since "The Devil You Know". Or like. I didn’t on first listen, at least, idk maybe it works for other people? Anyway. Drop this one into the ‘flawed but somehow more interesting precisely because it’s flawed’ category...

This is a Leela who is tired, who is no longer interested in fighting for someone else's cause, who is defensive and insular and surrounded by mines and the graves of people who tried walking over them. And Romana doesn't get it, certainly: her friendship has always been transactional (it has to be...this is not a woman who can easily conceive of herself outside of the roles she plays and the jobs she performs). Leela has always ultimately agreed to fight alongside her, or if not then for a predictable cause. And she...won't.

Leela's exhaustion is familiar. Of course the city runs on slave labor. Of course Daleks and Time Lords are vying for control over the planet's oil so they can eke out an advantage in this war no one will win. Of course Romana and Narvin are trying to leverage her emotions to their advantage. & like...her wife is dying and her son is growing up into a fight she can't help but push him into.

Understand I am not doing the fandom-brained ‘hurr durr there is no platonic explanation for [experience common in platonic relationships]’ thing here, this is Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958) dir. Richard Brooks levels of like, the space in the narrative where the queerness isn't anymore. It doesn't Not work as an intense platonic relationship (this series - and the franchise in general - beyond all the guff mostly turns on the complexities and complications of deeply-felt, transformative friendship) but also....you can see where they were going for a lived-in marriage and replaced it with ? at the last minute and every beat plays exactly the same but now the context is a ghost. It's a negative space drawing.

So we're left with a Leela who lost her son, who wasn't really her son; and her wife, who was only subtextually her wife; and her friend, who she now believes is an echo detached from the source. A harbinger or carrier of the war, not even allowed the full text of her grief, cast adrift again but this time with the personification of Gallifrey-as-grand-illusion. There's an interesting thread where Leela is as contemptuous of Narvin as she's ever been, but also trusts him enough to leave him with Vega and Rayo, and is delighted to find his box of scavenged weapons. & then from the other direction, Romana taking Vega's name...like it's such a weird and chunky shuffling-around of traditional family dynamics that relies on three pointedly-undefined relationships both being and not being romantic. What the fuck is actually textually happening in this story. This is making cartoon steam come out of my ears ~

DEPARTMENT OF OOO BABYGIRL YOU NEED THERAPY: "I deserve much worse...this is a clean slate I haven't earned. This is the opposite of a redemption. This is cheating."

DEPARTMENT OF THINGS ROMANA ONLY SAYS IN FRONT OF DALEKS: "I will never betray those I love" I'm scromiting

#narvin and the chickens...he's excruciating <3 #dr who #the conga line over rassilon's grave #big finish gallifrey #i understand the criticisms but i also really love the cat on a hot tin roof movie #specifically *because* of how it like. reworks itself back to a queer reading in the vacuum left by censorship #tangentially related to how the singer not the song works bc of - not in spite of - how much bogarde did NOT want #to imply he was attracted to john mills #anyway #that was time war 3! tune in next time for brax getting clown vored

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neon-junkie · 4 years ago

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It's OK to like villains, and liking them doesn't mean you support/'stan' them. Here's why:

I've seen the debate of 'liking a villain means you must support them,' and well, that's total nonsense. It's something that has appeared with newer, younger fandoms, usually circulating through minor fans and on social media such as TikTok. Liking a villain has never ever meant you support them, and I'm not sure where exactly this rubbish has come from, but I'm going to break it down and explain why enjoying a villain does not mean you support them.

Let's start off with the word 'stan', considering I see this word used the most. The original meaning of 'stan' was: 'a person who is an obsessive or stalker fan.'

The term comes from Eminem's song, Stan, where Stan is obsessed with Eminem, so much to the point that he kills himself and his pregnant girlfriend when Eminem doesn't reply to his letter fast enough.

The term stan soon changed to also mean: 'stanning someone can also mean supporting them, not just being an obsessive fan.' For example 'I stan X character' means ‘I support X character.’

Well, there are some characters you should definitely not stan/support, and villains are usually top of this list. Although, there are some villains out there with anti-hero and chaotic good intentions, Megamind for example, but the vast majority of villains should not be 'stanned.'

This is the thing - Very few people out there actually stan villains.

And here's another thing - You can like a villain without 'stanning' them

Like I mentioned before, stan culture is still relatively new, and it's impacted fandom culture both negatively and positively. Personally, I've only really seen the negative side of the impact, as I've always been a fan of villains. In the younger fandom days, people were free to enjoy characters they want, no matter who and what they are. You could say '

I like this villain,' and people would usually reply 'okay! I'm personally not a fan, but you're free to enjoy whatever fictional character you want.'

That was it, plain and simple. I guess everybody understood that the likelihood of you actually agreeing with that villains actions was little to none, but now that the phrase 'stan' is rising, it's replacing being a simple 'fan' of things, and is changing peoples viewpoints of what others enjoy in fiction.

Villain fans have always been around, and they always will, and like I said, little to none of them actually agree with what the villain is doing. Most of us enjoy the complexity, emotional depth, and layers to villains. A lot of us simply find these characters more attachable than the main ones, or we just find them hot... yeah, a lot of villains are hot - don't blame us for finding them attractive, blame the creator for making them attractive!

Some people also project their trauma and negative selves onto villains, and use their interest in these fictional characters as a method to cope. Most villains do have a tragic backstory, elements of which some of us can relate to, and it's okay to relate to a villain. We naturally show empathy, and it's hard to not latch onto a character who may have been through the same things we have, or been in similar situations that we've been in. They may have also reacted in ways that we wish we did, such as fighting back when in a harmful situation, or putting their foot down for once. So, it's hard not to project ourselves and our trauma onto them.

There's been many studies on why some people enjoy villains over the rest, here's a few perfect explanations behind the admiration:

"Aggressiveness, expressiveness, athleticism, excitability, and intelligence are another set of factors that seem to stand across romantic relationships as desirable or something we yearn for (Felmlee, 1995). These traits found in almost every villain. They have to be charismatic, aggressive, smart, and lively or else why would their followers choose to follow them? Loki from the Marvel universe reflects this as a humorous, upbeat, coy, charismatic villain which has lead to a massive social media following." - Socialcognition2019

"“When you are no longer uncomfortable with the comparison, there seems to be something alluring and enticing about having similarities with a villain,” explains Rucker. “For example, people who see themselves as tricky and chaotic may feel especially drawn to the character of The Joker in the Batman movies, while a person who shares Lord Voldemort’s intellect and ambition may feel more drawn to that character in the Harry Potter series,” said Krause." - zmescience

“A lot of us want to feel that freedom, feel that comfort being the bad guy. How many times at work have you had to be the bad guy, and absolutely hated doing it? Don’t you wish you could fire people or treat people horribly having to do your job without remorse? Don’t you wish that you could see, as much as others try to tell you, that what you’re doing is for the best? For me, that will be impossible because I’m too nice and too much of a pushover, but there’s a part of us that empathizes with the villain because in some sectors of life and of our relationships, we are the villain. Try being the tough parent when your spouse is too nice — your kid will see you as the bad guy. Try being the tough, no-nonsense boss when the other boss treats everyone like his or her friend and doesn’t hold people accountable. In one way or another, life will inevitably thrust us into those situations. We are both hero and villain, but we’re much more comfortable as the former than the latter. We’re much more praised for being kind than when we have to be tough, and that’s why, to me, villains are so compelling." - Medium

I wish I could copy and paste this entire article, but I'd recommend just reading it instead: Find yourself rooting for the bad guy? You're not alone - Digitalspy

Tumblr user Techousespeaks also did this fantastic explaintion: Is It Really Okay To Like Villains So Much?

Enjoying villains has always been a thing, and it always will be a thing.

There is NOTHING wrong with enjoying them, and in some cases, there is nothing wrong with 'stanning' them.

You are allowed to like fiction, especially dark fiction, or the darker sides of fiction.

And if anybody comes along and tells you that you're not allowed to like the bad guy then simply block them. Villain fans will always exist in every single fandom, and there's many of us per fandom. If the villain really wasn't meant to be liked, then the creators would announce that.

Enjoy whatever makes you happy.

An old fandom saying that still applies is 'come to the dark side, we have cookies!!‘ (and we really do) :)

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insomniasymphony · 3 years ago

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Obsessive Hisoka Morow x Female Reader [He cannot hate you]

Constellation: Obsessive Hisoka Morow x Female Reader Words I got: → Protective → Duality → Affection Rating: Teen up and Audience

►► He is the devil with a sweet tooth, And you are the candy on his tongue. Get on your knees and ask him to choose Nothing sweeter than you. For sweetness doesn't last long. ◄◄

Hectically, you jerk your head from left to right, look around for other cars and take a breath when there are no others blocking the road. In the cold evening air, your legs carry you in hurried steps across the asphalt, to the other side of the pavement that should lead you through the houses of Yorknew. Further and further, until the hotel room is forever gone.

The breath on your lips rises in white clouds, bringing something wistful with it that you don't want to pay attention to. Still, you can't rid yourself of the thought in the back of your mind.

It's not too late to give up on your plan.

You could drag yourself back to the room you've been sharing with Hisoka for four days, put on something pretty and wait for the magician to return from his meeting. He'd tell you about his new plan, kiss you, and fuck your senses into no-man's land for half the night because you're his favourite toy.

That's the problem: you're just a doll that can be replaced.

He's never said that he loves you, even though you've been spending every spare minute together for six months. Hisoka took you on his journey and he hasn't let you out of his sight since.

You shower together, eat together, he kills anyone you exchange too many kind words with. It's as if he wants to shut you off from the world so that you belong to him alone.

But this obsessive nature of his is nothing but terror for you. Sometimes you long for freedom, which you know Hisoka will never give you. He would rather strangle to death with his own hands than see you go. His subliminal threats make that clear time and time again.

And tonight you are ready to die for your freedom.

A little more hastily, you hurry ahead, turn into a narrow alley and hear the echo of your footsteps rising up the stone walls. Each reverberation makes your skin seem colder under your soft woolen coat. The goosebumps don't subside, the shiver persists, and you can't help but believe that behind every shadow is a part of Hisoka. His intense gaze has made you paranoid.

Briefly, you shake your head. This time his eyes won't be able to pierce you. When Hisoka returns, the hotel room will be empty and you will be long gone – so far away from him, with a new name and a new life, that he won't find you. For three weeks you have been looking for someone who would save you and Hisoka from this relationship and you have indeed found someone who wants to fulfil all your wishes for a lot of money in exchange.

Your gaze wanders once briefly over your shoulder. Through the echo of your own flight, you can no longer perceive anything but your own movements. Hisoka could be walking right behind you and you wouldn't notice. The racing of your heart makes the blood rush in your ears and everything else inside you is so erratically tense that you don't know if your nerves can hold it all together.

Only when the alley ends and sends you between other streets to find safety, a tiny part of the fear falls away, still simmering underneath.

Across the street, at least fourteen cars have parked. This area of the city seems like a residential neighbourhood where men return to their loving wives. The husband old-fashioned in a suit while she wears an apron because dinner is boiling on the cooker. Docile women in the kitchen who have no time to look for other men. Probably that's exactly what Hisoka is longing for too. A woman who only has eyes for him. All day long. Without exception. Locked up like a bird in a cage.

Even though you never intended to replace him. Hisoka is the man who won your heart. A guy who goes through life strong and ruthless, but always takes great care to make sure you're okay.

Your steps slow down as you stop at the edge of the pavement. One of the vehicles is started, flashing its headlights three times. The sign that this is your getaway car. The man who will take you away. Away from Hisoka, whose arms have wrapped protectively around you more than once in the last six months. His warmth on your skin has always been comforting and even though you know he hates it when you talk to other men and he has left marks on your body as a safety for himself as a result, his company has always been loving. He has never hurt you unless you found sexual pleasure in it. He never raised his voice at you. Never did he try to lock you up. His only crimes are the threats that still jump through your senses and also the fact that he likes to corner and intimidate you.

On top of that, he messes with people for your sake who are more dangerous than one might think at first. Yes, you love him. But if you don't leave, he will either throw you away or he will be killed because of you. You are poison to each other, you can't explain it any other way.

Yet, you don't want to go. The fear in your heart has made room for sorrow and the desire to run back into his strong, protective arms is strong.

Swallowing dryly, you give yourself a push. You have no choice but to make the best decision for both of you. Your feet start moving again and you drag yourself along, reaching the car you're getting into. You find room in the back seat, the fabric of which clings to you strangely and uncomfortably as you take a shaky breath and look in the rearview mirror for a half-glimpse of your helper's round face.

“Are you ready, good lady?” His smoky voice scrapes through the atmosphere, merely making you nod before he finally starts the engine and drives off. Your heart sinks four floors deeper, smothered in grief and fear, both of which settle on too many things in your chest. Maybe you're making a mistake, but this relationship has no future.

You feel the car smoothly take the turns, hear the engine accelerate, sense every bump in your bones. You claw your sweaty hands into the upholstery as you reprimand yourself to rest with conscious inhales and exhales. It's over, you've escaped, given you both the freedom you deserve.

Yorknew's houses diminish for a moment, bringing trees and the parkland to the fore where you would have loved to have a romantic walk. But Hisoka doesn't think much of boring strolls. He likes sex. Togetherness where you are close to each other – all to yourselves, so that you can snuggle up to him and you just sit there. Amusement parks. Bungee gum. You.

The thought draws a sigh from you before the car makes a strange rattling sound, forcing the driver to stop. You halt at the side of the road, so you can't help but hold your breath.

“What was that?” you press out.

“If I saw right, I just accidentally drove over a marten,” the stranger returns to you, making you exhale because it's not a horror movie you're in after all. Then he gets out.

The open door, which he doesn't close, brightens up the inside of the vehicle, makes the outside world a little more unfriendly than it really is and forces you to get out too, because you can't find a quiet minute alone on this upholstery.

Slowly you push your way back into the cold of the darkness, glancing at the streetlights flickering conspiratorially before circling the car to check on your driver. But all you see in front of the bonnet is a trail of blood. Not a marten. No one. Probably he's just taking the dead animal away, burying it so the kids won't get spooked in the park the next day.

The cool air seems to bite down to your bones, numbing your skin as you count off two minutes. The restlessness keeps you looking around and for a moment you are willing to jump in the car and eagerly drive on. But your driver also has your new identity and all the other things that have been so painstakingly prepared. You can't leave without him. So you stroll a few steps towards the park. Just until the blackness seems to swallow everything, because the flickering streetlamps don't give enough light for more.

Tense, you cross your arms in front of your chest, bobbing up and down before gnawing fear begs for action. “Hello?”

Only silence returns to your question and you can't help but take a step over the dark threshold and venture further ahead to find your driver. Three, four feet ahead to the first tree closest to you. “What's wrong?”

Again you meet only silence, staggering a few more steps ahead and giving up in the same breath. A glance over your shoulder moves the car, which is already a few metres away from you, into a ghostly, almost lonely picture, apart from the other vehicles that pass by every now and then. No one seems to care about the abandoned automobile.

A little more annoyed, you take a breath, shake your head as something wet hits your cheek and you instantly look up because the sky didn't look like rain at all when you started running.

And it still doesn't.

Nevertheless, your heart stops for a beat.

Cold seems to consume you from within, makes you pull your coat tighter.

Up there, above you, fixed between branches, the lifeless eyes of the man who was supposed to help you escape stare back at you. His arms hang twisted above him and his legs are missing entirely. In the darkness, suffused with moonlight, you can only make out the bitter facts. And one of them is death.

“Do you like it?”

Instantly you suck in the air sharply, turning around in an instant only to catch sight of Hisoka. Leaning relaxed against a tree, he shuffles his cards as if nothing has happened. “I thought we had decided that you would wait in the hotel room. Where were you going with that man at such a late hour?”

His gaze lifts so that his amber eyes can look at you, while his features wait in a lack of enthusiasm for answers. You don't know if he's angry, but his expression seems to threaten you.

“I-I... I wanted to...” What do you want to say anyway? You don't know yourself what exactly you wanted other than to just get away from him for too many things that seem wrong. “Away.”

“Where to?”, Hisoka inquires, pushing himself off the trunk and coming closer. The cards disappear into the pockets of his white trousers in the same blink.

“Just... away,” you counter, unable to look at him any further because his eyes seem to look right down into your core.

“From me?” He pauses in front of you. “Why?”

Again your attention jerks to him and you hate the fact that he is wearing heels because it only makes him taller than he already is.

“You... are... constricting me.”

“Is that so?” The almost biting undertone in his voice is frightening. But you don't have time to think of what his next move might be as he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him very closely. His grip is so tight around your jawbone as he does so that you panic he might break it.

Then he leans towards you, breathes such a gentle kiss on your lips that, along with fear, terrible warmth rises up inside you. Your heart races wildly, but you don't know if it's the fear or the longing. Seeing him like this, knowing he is so close to you, is cruel because you love him, don't want to leave him, but don't want to see either of you die either.

The mere thought of losing him, or not being good enough anymore, knots your stomach as your vision blurs and the sobs in your throat quietly spill out.

Hisoka watches this rection, loosening his grip around your chin and running his thumb over your lips. A little like he wants more words from you. And you can't help but give them to him in a gush.

“I love you, Hisoka. I really do. But this can't work.” You have to swallow to keep from breaking into a raspy cough. “You lock me up like I'm your pet and you're messing with people who might kill you one day.” The first tear rolls down your cheeks unintentionally, making you wipe it away in frustration because you don't want to seem like an effeminate damsel in distress. “You're going to kill yourself because of me. And if not for that, then one day you'll just throw me away because you're not a man for life. And I'm afraid that by then I'll love you so much that I won't be able to stand it. So I was gonna let you go. And I can understand if you hate the decision, but isn't that the duality you love to talk about? Love and hate, both sides of the same coin? I-” Hisoka interrupts you as he takes your face in his hands and forcibly pulls you to him, far enough to force you onto your toes to press a kiss to your lips. A warm touch full of affection so gentle it takes your breath away.

Then he lets go of you, remains close in front, but his features are adorned with a friendly smile that makes him a little suspicious, while his hand caresses your cheek. As he does so, he brushes your lower eyelid, collecting another tear that was about to escape.

The tenderness he has for you irritates you so much that every one of your brain cells shuts down for a breath before Hisoka focuses on you again, piercing you with a blank stare. The atmosphere between you grows heavier.

“You think too much about nothingness, love.” His voice is so soft that it seems almost deadly at the same time. “And because you're like that, I'm going to let you get away with it for today.” He leans down to your ear, licks once over the shell with the tip of his tongue. “But if you run away again, I will kill you.”

“H-Hisoka...” You don't know what you can say to appease him. Nothing seems good enough. But Hisoka understands, straightening up to look at you again, putting on that playful smile he goes through life with. “Or I can put you in chains so I can have you with me for the rest of my life. Whichever option you like better.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with mockery and at the same time with a barely perceptible commitment so that you can feel the blush on your cheeks. On one hand, he's making a fool of you, on the other, he's conveying in his own unique way that he's sure he wants you for himself – forever.

He can't stay mad at you for long, can't even punish you for your terrible action, just takes you as you are, as if he has a weakness for all your stupid words and your troubled feelings.

And in those seconds you know that he loves you no less than you love him.

[Picture from a card collecting game]

[Want to give me kudos or a request? Check here!]

#Hunter X Hunter #hunter x 2011 #hunter x reader #hunter x you #hisoka hxh #hisoka morow #hisoka x you #hisoka x reader #Female reader #reader insert #My writing #my Ao3 works #fanfiction #fanfic #love #obsessive #obsessed

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dreamylyfe-x · 4 years ago

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Your trevor meta is making me realize how weird it is that the writers and cast were so insistent that mickey wasn't coming back, because I don't think theyve ever really known what to do with ian's story without him. They put him in these lukewarm relationships and tell us they're so much better and healthier, but then have ian straight up admit that he still loves mickey and nobody else has made him feel the same way. How do they set that up and then have him go back to trevor? They set up ian moving on with "I'm not that person anymore" and follow up with season 8. It's like okay...who he is now is gay Jesus? Lmao. He's always been the shows forgotten middle child and after they wrote mickey off "for good" they could have taken him in a million directions but they chose one so shitty it basically made cam leave lmao. Sometimes it feels like fan insistence kind of forced mickey back but in actuality, the seasons where he's gone just hammer home that he was always the inevitable end to ian's story. So bizarre how little the showrunners understand their own story sometimes.

Ok. I’m going to be a little more Doylist here than I usually am, because we’re talking about what the writers are thinking. And I’m also going to take this opportunity to share this fascinating article from the AV Club in 2016: When Fan Engagement Goes Wrong. Everyone beware, it contains significant spoilers for The 100. But it’s also largely about Gallavich, the fact that online promotion of Shameless leaned hard into the popularity of the couple, and were up against it when Noel left. I’ll quote:

“[Supervising Producer Shelia] Callaghan’s choice to be honest and straightforward when engaging with fans is admirable, and yet also on some level futile. She can’t tell them exactly why Fisher chose to leave, she is (logically) unwilling to spoil future storylines outright, and she can only speak her own mind as part of a collaborative process over which she holds only some influence. So while many fans respect her effort to maintain the connection to this now marginalized community, others attack, reinforcing that attempting to manage these situations is a full-time job that no one has been properly trained for.”

This article links some tweets and the one I find the most interesting is this one:

“But the actor left. So...what to do? Have them just break up?? Felt way less true to me than a forced separation!”

That tweet is from Krista Vernoff, who wanted to convey that they tried really hard to come up with what they do with Ian now that he’d lost Mickey. And I’m sure they did try really hard. And.... People hated it. Mostly.

Here’s what I think, based on what I’ve read and the interviews I’ve seen, on deleted tweets and Tumblr rumours and YouTube clips: The show didn’t want Mickey to leave the canvas. At all. Noel wanted more money. The show could not come up with both that money and the money they needed for everyone else. The show let him go. And hoped they could solve the creative problem their budgetary problem had dumped in their lap.

I actually think Ian’s story in season six is decent. I miss Mickey, of course. I find the last scene with him really painful -- but it’s not painful because the show is trying to diminish him. They write and then cut together a scene where Mickey is DEMONSTRATIVELY still deeply in love with Ian. He’s carved his name in his chest. He is looking at Ian like he’s the most beautiful creature ever given breath. And Ian can barely meet his gaze. They tell us Mickey is being sent away for 16 years but when we see the last of Mickey Milkovich in season six I think “God, this is so sad. They love each other so much and this is so fucked up.”

I do NOT think “We are NEVER EVER EVER getting back together.”

The show always knew what it had with Ian and Mickey. They leaned into it promotionally. They gave meaty storylines to the characters, particularly given that Ian was the fourth lead on a family dramedy built around six children. John Wells replaced Aaron Sorkin on The West Wing. He knows how hard it is to follow a phenomenon.

The more I think about it, honestly? I don’t think they tried. I think they knew that they couldn’t bring in Mickey Milkovich, the sequel in season six, so they brought in Caleb. And maybe they meant for him to be a LITTLE more viable than he was... but I think there’s a pretty good chance they were just throwing something at the wall to see if it stuck, while being fully aware that the important storyline in season six was getting Ian from despair to a fulfilling career. Caleb was just there as a catalyst.

Season seven if more interesting, because Trevor is brought on and it’s very much... “Hey, let’s do something new. Let’s bring on a transmasc character and put him into a relationship with Ian and explore those complications.”

“Great! Put it up on the board!”

“Also. Let’s call Noel Fisher’s people and see what we can work out because we can do better with Mickey’s send off and people are yelling at me on the street about it.”

Quite honestly, these are not equal tasks for his writer’s room. You have one story -- Create a whole ass new character. The only thing we know is that he’s trans. Figure out the romance from there. You have six episodes to get them together as an established couple.

Then: Bring back the well-established and beloved character for an epic romantic two-episode arc where he reunites with his true love and they run away together and then ultimately realize it cannot be, and say goodbye and it all feels like I Will Always Love You should be playing in the background. They actors worked together for five years. They have a great professional partnership. They like working together. They have a ton of history so there’s lots of juicy subtext. The longing and sexual tension comes pre-established. See what you can do.

HOW do you make both those things work out so that they are equal? You need lightening to strike. And that already happened on How I Met Your Mother. They squandered their good luck and now there is none left for Shameless. I do not disparage Elliot Fletcher at all when I say that for Trevor and Ian to really work he’d have had to have come with scorching chemistry with Cam, rich material that really gave them a good opportunity to build rapport between the characters, and A wizard standing by to cast spells in the wings. They had SIX episodes, a pretty average connection between the actors, and the “these are the LGBTQ+ people in your neighbourhood” scene.

I just can’t believe that someone with as many years of TV writing under his belt as John Wells has expected that to work. He hoped the Trevor story might be good, and was certainly going to break some ground in terms of telling trans stories. And the Mickey story was going to be the highlight, because he knew people wanted it and he also knew that they’d had something pretty special to start with. Which is why people were yelling at him at Comic-Con. I DO think he hoped it might placate fans a bit. But... he wasn’t going to completely close the door on Mickey this time, either.

So... I don’t really think the show every intended to write Mickey off “for good”. I think they wrote him off “for now, and we’ll see what happens...” -- and they did that with Karen, Shelia, Jody, Steve and Fiona, too. They only brought a few of those people back... They brought Mickey back three times. They ended Gallavich FOUR times. Noel is in ever season except eight. I don’t think they wanted Mickey gone -- but I KNOW the fans also made it pretty hard for them not to know his value, so absolutely I think that played a role. But when you create something people love and you get that lightening in a bottle like they did with this story, I think writers are always going to be excited to get that back. They like praise! They like people to be excited about their show. And Gallavich was always one of the things that got people excited about Shameless.

I think they also wanted Gay Jesus to be a great story. But that’s why the lightening in the bottle is so valuable. You can’t just get it anywhere.

#asks #I hope this answered the question #I am honestly so interested in the behind-the-scenes efforts to make season 7 work #and I do think they wanted Gay Jesus to be a great story #and instead... Cam quit #because no #writing is hard #shameless season 7 #shameless season 6 #shameless season 8 #shameless without mickey #thanks for asking!#God I hope that was an answer #Gallavich meta

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ink-on-the-brink · 3 years ago

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Hi I really love your writing!! Do you think you can write more for medic or sniper how they’d act in a relationship? I really like how you write them and I’d love to see more! (:

Ayo, my first ask! I'm glad you enjoyed my interpretation, it's good to know my stuff's entertaining! Anyway here's some quick headcannons for them in a relationship ^-^

Medic

Now Medic isn't really the type of person to get into relationships much. He's often too busy with work for such things. However, that doesn't mean he's immune to the love bug.

Chances are if you're dating him it's because you two work together or have the same fascination with the human body. It's practically a deal-breaker for him if you're squeamish. He loves his work, so if you don't also find at least a little interest in it he's most likely not going to see you in a romantic light.

When he does end up in a relationship though you can bet your entire ass that it's all but conventional. It's either a Bonnie and Clyde situation or he manages to find someone who dulls down his more psychopathic tendencies. Either way each day with him is sure to be one hell of a trip, for better or worse.

Despite his apparent love for gore and mutilation, he can be somewhat of a lovesick puppy once he's far enough into a relationship. Often seeking the attention of his lover, despite his denials of doing such a thing.

This man has three modes, blood-covered psychopath, professional doctor, and absolute dork. The changes between the three depend entirely on who he's with and what he's doing. You most often than not will see his more dorky side. His cute ramblings and wide smiles as he's around you. The other two are mostly saved for his work. So depending on how involved you are in the actual gravel war you might end up not even knowing how terrifyingly creepy he can be.

His love language is time well spent. Gifts are nice sure, and he would never deny the comfort of hugs and kisses, but he's more into spending time with his lover. He loves the long conversations late at night and the comedy of inside jokes more than anything else.

Despite this, getting him away from his work to spend time on something else is a rather hard task. He's often so enamored and intrigued with whatever he's working on that he doesn't really want to do much else besides that.

That is when you learn that the only thing this medical man loves more than experimentation is some high-quality dark chocolate. One glimpse at the sweet treat and he's hooked.

You might just wanna ignore the fact that you are literally using treats to lure a grown man from his room and just focus on the fact that it's working

PDA isn't exactly something he cares about, nor does he really think about it. He's not going to get more or less touchy in front of people and he has absolutely no problem with you showing your affection in front of others.

Him? Jealous? Oh don't make him laugh! He'd sooner put Scouts head in his fridge than feel jealousy! (He saids as he's in the process of tearing the guts out of the person who dared to wink at you)

If you are up for it he will 10000% involve you in his experiments. He'll make sure not to do anything too extreme but small things couldn't hurt, right?

Overall excitable and sweet...in the 'I can't give you my heart because I kinda need it to live but would a stranger's heart be an okay replacement?' Kinda way.

Sniper

Okay look, man's super insecure. It might not be noticeable, and he sure as hell won't tell you, but he often doesn't feel right loving himself, let alone loving someone else. He's maybe been in like one romantic relationship. And it probably ended because he was too nervous to say much and put on a stoic face of silence that bored whoever he was dating.

You wanna date this man? You best go buy a pickaxe with how many walls you're going to have to get through first. You'd have to be a very close friend before he even considered anything more.

If you manage to meet that requirement though and he actually ends up catching feelings it can become pretty obvious. The one cool, calm and collected exterior he used didn't work once you knew him well enough and it only became more clear with his mumbled sentences and averted eyes that something was up.

Once he manages to land himself in a relationship though, whether that be by a few accidentally spoken words or you managing to push an answer out of him, it can become rather evident why he didn't want to tell you in the first place.

It's time to bust out the pickaxe again because it looks like you're going to have a few more walls to break through.

At the start of the relationship he's completely silent. It's rare to hear more than a few words from him. It'll take a lot of patience and time to make him comfortable and help him understand that there's no reason to be that way around you.

He isn't a very needy lover. He doesn't expect (or want) to spend every waking moment together. He likes his time alone and he will always respect yours. He's not a very big fan of overly clingy people, it overwhelms him.

You get to see a very different side of Sniper than really anyone else has seen, besides his parents that is. To others he's calculated. He's efficient, polite, and has a plan to kill anyone he meets. You, on the other hand, get to see the outcomes of someone who doesn't tend to express their emotions well. You see the breakdown after each fight he gets involved in and the almost obsession he has with each negative comment thrown his way. He'll act stoic in the moment, maybe throw back an insult or two, but you know he cares a lot for what everyone thinks of him.

Surprisingly his love language is touch. Now it is going to take a long time to get to this point, but once you do it's possibly one of the best parts of your relationship. He loves to hold you and be held by you, to intertwine your fingers with his, to bombard you with sweet kisses all over your face as you squirm beneath him. He SUPER touch-starved and really just wants a hug whenever he sees you.

PDA is a HUGE nope from him. Under no circumstances does he want to do anything in front of anyone. He was comfortable with you and you alone and would probably melt into a puddle of embarrassment if any of the people around you tried to force you two to kiss or hold hands. Luckily for him, most people probably wouldn't even be able to tell the two of you were in a relationship with how much he enforces that rule.

He has two modes when jealous. Fury and silent turmoil. Mode one is when someone advances on you and you want absolutely nothing to do with it or if they end up touching you. He'll most likely tell them to piss off and if they don't he isn't averse to beating a bitch.

Mode two however is the one you have to really worry about. It happens when he notices or perceives someone as flirting with you and you either don't notice it or brush it off as a joke. He kinda always has the fear that you'll leave him for someone better so it certainly doesn't help if he sees someone flirting and you seem okay with it.

He loves sharing hobbies with you and will be absolutely elated if you're more of an outdoorsy person. You two will take vacations all over the world to the most remote places just exploring and camping. It's one of his favorite things to do with you. The two of you will often spend weeks with only each other and if only for a while he can pretend you and him are the only people that exist. For him, that's about as comforting as it gets.

Overall he's a secret mess of a man in great need of someone despite what you may initially think. He's the epitome of 'don't touch me but also I need a hug' and 'people don't mean shit but also please don't leave"

#reader x tf2 #tf2 #tf2 x reader #medic #sniper #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years ago

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Bella Italia

Your Summer in Italy is definitely going to be one to remember....

Feat. Jim from the Delinquent Season

Request - Yes

Warning - smut (kinda from the offset...), age gap relationship

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @janelongxox @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @elenavampire21 @being-worthy @noctvrnalmoth

You've been working at the Sapienza University in Rome for the last 6 weeks, helping your father who was teaching a Summer School class over there. Originally from Dublin, you'd come to Italy for the summer with your parents initially for a vacation, but you got bored quickly and ended up helping with the admin side of things as an intern, whilst taking a summer class yourself in Piano. You'd had dreams of being a concert pianist since you started playing 13 years ago, your grandmother leaving her piano for you in her will when you were 7 years old. You'd fallen in love with it immediately.

All was going perfectly, except for one thing. Interns regularly worked in teams of 2, and you'd been paired with Jim. A Dublin man who despite being 10 years older than you, was the most attractive man you'd ever met, with the most exquisite ocean blue eyes and floppy brown hair.. he was simply perfect... And quite the distraction. You'd worked together for two weeks, and you knew he had a son - his wife had left him for someone else and taken their son back to Sligo where she was originally from, for reasons you didn't ask about, and he'd come out to Italy to get away from it all and take a semi sabbatical.

After three days, you'd shared a secret kiss in the small office you worked together in, after you both stayed late to help with paperwork. Your father was none the wiser, and he'd never find out - it was a holiday romance, that's all, and you were just having fun.

Which is exactly what you were doing sat on your desk at 7pm one Monday evening, under the pretence of 'working late', with Jim's fingers buried deep in your core, thrusting them in and out of you, curling them up perfectly to hit your g spot every time. His mouth took you to highs you'd never been to before. Your body was rocking against his hand, your orgasm building up quickly.

"Oh god... Oh god.... Oh god...." You moaned, as your back arched and you came hard over his hand, your hips bucking wildly.

Within seconds of your core exploding, he'd pulled down his jeans and entered you swiftly, lifting you off the table and pushing your body against the wall, thrusting upwards into you like a piston. Neither of you wanted romantic, you were both primal when you got together physically.

"That's it y/n... Good girl... Squeeze me... Fuck...." He was panting now, his pubic bone hitting your swollen clit eliciting a deep groan from your throat. The way you mained during sex turned him on no end, you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

"You gonna come Jim? You gonna fill me up?" His lips met your neck, biting and kissing lightly.. you'd need a scarf tomorrow..

"Fuck baby.. I'm gonna cum... You ready for this?" Your legs were tight round his back, nails scratching his shoulders as you felt him thrust hard into you and cum deep inside you, his thick release coating your walls. He panted into your neck, as both your bodies calmed. Pulling out of you and handing you a tissue to clean up, you both redressed and headed out the door like nothing had happened. Suddenly he grabbed your hand in the empty corridor and pulled you into him, stealing a long passionate kiss before pulling away and heading back to his room on campus. That was new.. normally he wasn't interested in anything once he'd had his end away, why did he kiss you?

Prior to coming to Italy, you'd only had sex with one guy who, frankly, never fulfilled your needs. Your sex drive was incredibly high, and he simply couldn't keep up with you. Your twice weekly trysts on a Monday and Thursday evening with Jim were proving to not be enough either, you found yourself wanting him daily, almost hourly...

"Hey, y/n, can I borrow you for a minute?" Jim asked the morning after your 'meeting' at your desk. You nodded, and he took you down the corridor towards a small janitors cupboard at the end. What the hell was he doing? He opened the door, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

"Where did you get that key?" You asked.

"The janitor is easily bought..." He moved over to you - this was definitely new. The university was full of students and teachers, you'd never met up for sex on anything other than a Monday or Thursday evening when it was deserted...

Pressing his lips to yours you melted into it, tongues meshing together. His hands pulled your maxi dress up over your hips and sat you on a small filing cabinet in the corner. Kneeling in front of you, he pulled your underwear down your legs and kissed along your thighs. Another new thing... He'd never pleasured you this way but you weren't complaining.

His tongue licked up your open slit slowly, your hands were gripping his floppy brown hair as you groaned, bucking your hips upwards to meet his mouth.

"Fuck yes.. Jim..." He responded by taking your clit into his mouth, pulling on it. Two fingers entered you slowly, pulling forwards to find that spot inside guaranteed to make you flood him with your juices.

He started pushing his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as you panted above him. "You need to stay quiet... Can't have people hearing what I'm doing to you now, can we..." He moved back up, his fingers still buried knuckle deep inside you, as he placed his other hand over your mouth to stifle your moans. Pulling you slightly off the cabinet to an almost standing position, he leaned into your ear and began whispering, edging you closer.

"Ride my fingers... Make a mess for me baby..." He kept his hand as still as possible and allowed you to control the movements. You ground your hips in circles, and back and forth, aiming it perfectly so his fingers reached your g spot with each movement. His mouth was on your collarbone, groaning into it, knowing how much it turned you on when you could hear him. His hand was still over your mouth as your moans intensified, your orgasm edging closer. His lips next to your ear again.

"You gonna cum?" You nodded, and he panted in your ear, his moans sending you over the edge as you shuddered, coming undone over his hand. As you rode out your high, you heard him unzip his jeans and spin you around, bending you over the cabinet as he lined up behind you and thrust inside, bending over your back, the angle hitting your sensitive spot over and over hard. One hand was still over your mouth, the other pulling your hair as he pounded you. Your legs were shaking as you felt his cock twitch inside you, and moments later he came, filling you and sending you over the edge again.

Pulling out, he lifted your body back to his, facing him again now as he kissed you deeply, confusing you even further. The kiss felt more passionate and loving than normal, his lips lingered and he ran his hands softly through your hair.

"Jim...?" You asked, cautiously. "Jim what's going on?"

"Nothing, just needed to feel you.. you okay?" His eyes met yours, and he tapped your nose against his.

"I'm fine..." You lied. You weren't fine. You were falling for him, but you'd always assumed you were just a fuck - now something felt like it was shifting but you weren't prepared to get your hopes up on a man who was 10years older than you with a child back home. He kissed you again, and pulled his clothes back on, before a quick glance back and a smile, and he was out the door. You didn't see him again for the rest of the day.

The following morning, you came to work with a slight spring to your step, only to find your father in your office with a young lady you'd not met before.

"Y/n, this is Kate, she'll be working with you from this morning." You raised an eyebrow, shocked.

"Oh... Hi... Erm... Where's Jim?" You asked, smiling politely at Kate.

"He flew back to Ireland last night - he and his wife are trying again apparently, isn't that amazing! Y/n, you okay?" Your heart sank and you felt sick. Your face must've turned a shade of white.

"Um... Yes... Sorry Dad, yes I'm fine.. can you give me a minute I think I've eaten something that hasn't agreed with me.. sorry Kate I'll be right back..." You ran to the toilets down the corridor and locked yourself in a cubicle before throwing up violently. Sinking back against the door, you couldn't stop the tears. You knew he was married, but he said they'd separated, there was no chance of reconciliation after she'd cheated on him... And yet here you were, clearly having been lied to and used.

You pulled yourself off the floor and cleaned yourself up, before heading back out. Swallowing down any feelings you thought you had for Jim, and replacing them with hate and anger.

Good riddance.

#jim delinquent season x y/n #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x reader

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jungkookiebus · 5 years ago

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Overprotective | jjk

Genre: bf2l, smut, angst Pairing: jungkook x reader Rating: M Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: there is domestic abuse, mostly mental, but there is mentions of physical, Jungkook beats the shit out of someone, if violence bothers you DO NOT READ THIS, cunnilingus, unprotected sex. Summary: Jungkook had been your friend for long enough to know that something was wrong and seeing you spiraling in your current relationship had him on edge. It all comes to a head at a house party when he witnesses the abuse firsthand, throwing him into a blind rage that has him throwing your boyfriend into the front lawn. Author’s Note: Angry jjk in the ON mv got me in my feelings. Thanks. @bulletproofbirdy

“Are you coming tonight?”

Jungkook sat on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“Hm?” he asked absently. You looked over to see his face illuminated by the eyesight ruining blue light of his phone. It highlighted the scar on his cheek. He scrunched his nose as he sniffed but didn’t look away from his phone.

“The party. At Hobi’s,” you said as you began removing your clothing and pulling dresses off hangers from your closet.

He finally looked up as you were pulling a gold dress up passed your hips and adjusting the straps on your shoulders.

“Are you really going to wear that?” he asked while gesturing his phone at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Seems like overkill maybe.”

Jungkook was your best friend of almost seven years. Seven years filled with happiness, sadness, and sometimes downright aggravation. Like now.

“It’s not that kind of party, _____, it’s chill.” He paused for a second and chewed his lip. “Is Cheol going to be there?”

You suddenly stopped mid-waist as you were pulling the dress back off. Jungkook had seen every which version of you there was to see. His favorite was high _____ trying to get to the bathroom before she wet her pants. Any shyness you had around Jungkook in the beginning was replaced by blind trust and a totally comfortable space around him. You had met Jungkook at a very similar party. He had tried to hook up with you and you had turned him down with such drunken gusto that he was immediately taken with you romantic or not. Later that night when your friend had, naturally, left you to go with some guy, you were stuck on the front lawn, mascara running from cry laughing at Jin’s dumb jokes, missing a left shoe, and a little hopeless. He sidled up to you as you scrolled through your contacts trying to figure out how to get home.

“Need help?” he asked after clearing his throat.

You had looked up at him, sneered, and went right back to scrolling.

His eyebrows shot up into his hair in amusement, a small smile forming on his face. He then leaned down closer to you and was looking at your phone screen.

“Can I help you?” you had slurred as you hid the screen against your chest.

“Let me get you home. Your friend obviously left you.”

You bent over, eyes crossing as you imitated the Spongebob meme.

“YoUr FrIeNd oBviOuSly lEft YoU. No shit Sherlock.”

You hadn’t expected him to start laughing so hard. Soon, he was unable to breathe, red faced as tears streamed down his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hadn’t expected him to answer. His laughter had him clutching his stomach in mock agony.

“I think I’m in love with you, let’s go,” he had said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along behind him.

And that was how you became friends with Jungkook. It had all started with a pass that turned into hanging out and playing video games every weekend, to sleepovers, and then to practically living together despite having your own apartments. Your current boyfriend was not happy with the fact that Jungkook was with you most of the time.

“He’ll be there.”

You saw him bristle.

“Why do you like him?”

“Jungkook, not this again.”

Time and time again, Jungkook had seen you come home a little broken. At first, he thought maybe it was a tiny argument. You’d shrug off any concerns he had and told him you were just tired. He would watch you as you walked, shoulders slumped, and disappear into your room. The next day you would be perfectly fine, talking to him as if things were just as they should be. Then you started coming home, eyes puffy from crying and wiping your nose on your hand. Again, he’d ask you if everything was okay. ‘Just a little fight.’ He started to worry, but you told him everything would be okay. Months passed and you became withdrawn. The life left your eyes, your smile faded, and you started to spend more time at your apartment alone or with Cheol. Whenever he would go to your apartment in search of you and Cheol was there, he would either find a way to get rid of Jungkook or sulk behind you when Jungkook pushed passed him. Either way, Jungkook knew he was isolating you from him. Any attempt to talk to you would turn into an argument.

One day, you came into Jungkook’s office with a busted lip, fresh tears that were drying over the others, and holding your arms across your stomach defensively. He had jumped up from his chair and rounded his desk, reaching behind you to slam the door before grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded. Anger was hot in his veins. He was shaking with it.

You began to cry harder as your head met his chest and all he could think of doing right now was keeping you as safe as possible, whatever that meant. He held you tightly, encased you in his arms, probably for the first time in months, he realized. You seemed smaller, skinnier, and all around weaker. His hand came up to your head and he noticed your once shiny, sleek hair was now lackluster and thin. Something else was wrong here.

“Please,” he whispered, “tell me what is wrong.”

“Cheol…,” you had whispered. But that was all he needed to hear.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You were suddenly defensive. Pushing him away you stepped back.

“It was my fault,” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have tried to argue with him. Really, Jungkook, I deserved it.”

His heart shattered into a million pieces. His once beautiful, full of life best friend was falling into the clutches of abuse and she was pushing him away.

“Let me help you,” his voice wavered as he tentatively held out his hand.

“I don’t need you, Jungkook,” you had spat bitterly.

Before he had any more time to react, you were out of his door, and down the stairs. He had wanted nothing more than to chase after you, but he knew if he wanted to keep some type of watch on you, he’d have to back off.

And he was right. A few weeks later you texted him telling him everything was okay, and you wanted to hang out again. You still looked dull and sad, but he tried his best to stay out of your business in order to keep you close.

You pulled a black dress from your closet and started to pull it on.

“Things are better. Really. We talked it out and he’s gotten better.”

All Jungkook could do was scoff. Once an asshole, always an asshole. That’s what he really wanted to say but he opted to just stay silent.

“Don’t come if you’re just gonna be a grouch the whole time.”

“Fuck you, I’m going,” he said as he laid back against your bed.

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice. Unless someone wants to start shit with me, I’m going to behave myself.” He went back to scrolling through his phone. “And wear that one.”

He didn’t once look at you, but you sighed and decided you were tired of trying on clothes anyway as you continued to get ready. Thirty minutes later and you walked up to the front door of Hobi’s house together. As soon as you stepped inside Cheol was at your side, grabbing your upper arm and leading you towards the kitchen for drinks. You looked back at Jungkook who was still standing in the doorway, eyes locked with yours. You saw fear and sadness there. All at once you felt angry, but his fear was shared. You were angry that Jungkook didn’t trust you, angry that Cheol treated you poorly, but would then be so loving…it was your fault somehow.

“Let me get you a drink,” Cheol said, releasing your arm. He didn’t hold you as hard as usual. That was good. He probably wasn’t mad that you walked in with Jungkook.

“How was your day?” you asked. He never asked you first. He either waited for you to say something or he would immediately jump into something that had happened to him. Nine times out of ten, when you started to talk about your day, he would cut you off. It got to the point where you didn’t even try anymore. That’s when you would text Jungkook, or call if Cheol left, and he would listen and try to give advice the best he could. He’d always end the conversation with a ‘I love you. Please tell me if you need help.’ You would halfheartedly affirm him that you would before hanging up. You were too embarrassed to let Jungkook into your real life now. If he knew, he’d try to get you to leave. You were happy. The bad days weren’t as often, but they didn’t exactly go away either.

“Ah, you know,” he said while he made your drink, but never looked up at you. He never did. “Just another day with those bastards that think they can tell me how to do my job.”

According to him, everyone at his office were idiots, yet he rubbed noses with them every day. You just hummed to let him know you heard but didn’t offer any words. He never wanted advice and he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about you.

“Let’s go,” he said while handing you a drink. He turned without a backwards glance, expecting you to follow dutifully. Which you did. He walked up to a circle of his friends and began chatting immediately, ignoring the fact that you were even there.

You sipped awkwardly on your drink as you scanned the room. You were very much on the outside of the circle, cut off by shoulders that were all above your head. You’d have to duck in between them if you wanted to say anything. Not that they wanted you to contribute. That’s when you spotted Jimin. About that time, he also saw you and began to wave emphatically. You met Jimin at the coffee shop you frequented before classes and you both soon were on the same coffee schedule, expecting to see the other every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You’d stand in line together and talk about your weekend, classes, and whatever came up. You found out you had a similar friend in Hobi a couple of weeks into your friendship and soon began seeing him at his parties. You considered Jimin a good friend and his infectious laugh always brought a smile to your face. His eyes disappeared as he smiled harder, waving you over. Of course, you went on your own accord. Cheol didn’t even notice that you had walked away.

Minutes passed, you weren’t counting because when Jimin was telling you about some ridiculous group project he was in, time didn’t matter. Without noticing, Jimin had nonchalantly draped his arm across your shoulders as he laughed and talked. You didn’t think anything of it and neither did he. His face was red from the alcohol and he was laughing so hard, drool escaped the corner of his mouth, causing you to double over. He was still attached to you as you both bent over in laughter. On your vacant side, you felt four sharp fingernails dig into your upper arm. You yelped as you were yanked away. Jimin stumbled back in surprise but kept his footing.

“What are you doing?” Cheol seethed. His eyes were on Jimin and if looks could kill, Jimin would be dead and turned to dust on the floor.

Jimin’s eyes shifted to your terror filled ones. You willed Jimin to relent. Please don’t say anything, you begged internally.

He didn’t even spare Cheol a look as he looked directly at you.

“_____ are you okay?”

This time Cheol looked at you. You could feel the anger roiling off him. It heated your skin and made you dizzy. Your knees were locked and cutting off your blood supply. The room swirled a little as you shrank in fear.

“And what were you doing?” He almost spat in your face. His fingers dug harder into your arm and you felt the first tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Please not here,” you begged as you tried to pry his fingers from your arm.

That only made him angrier. People were starting to notice and look at you. Jimin was sobering up quickly and was about to say something again when you heard it.

Your mind was hazy as your thoughts raced, trying to figure out every possible solution to this situation. It was a growl? Roar? You weren’t sure what it was at first, but it was loud. Someone was very, very angry. You could hear them yell, deep and guttural, somewhere close by.

“You fucking son of a bitch, don’t fucking touch her!”

That’s when Cheol’s gripped was ripped from you. He was still holding tightly, and his fingernails dug painfully into your skin, but he soon lost his grip and you were sent to the side. When you could catch your bearings, you righted yourself to figure out what the hell had just happened. Jungkook stood, fists clenched and the knuckles on his right hand a bloody pink. You had never seen him with that look before, at least never directed at you. Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred is how you would describe it. His eyes were black, and anger burned there. Suddenly, his soft features you loved so much were sharp and menacing. This was a Jungkook you didn’t know and one you didn’t wish to encounter again. His chest heaved as he breathed hard, trying to contain himself as Cheol scrambled up from the floor and launched himself at Jungkook. You screamed as he collided with Jungkook’s chest, shoving him backwards, but Jungkook was good on his feet. He managed to keep his hands on Cheol’s shoulders, stepping back in time with him as his back connected with the closest wall. Cheol tried to take a swing at Jungkook, but he was too drunk to aim correctly. Jungkook dodged him easily before he landed a punch to his stomach. He stumbled backwards, coughing, but either the alcohol or sheer stupidity had him standing up somewhat tall in the face of a fuming Jungkook. Jungkook clearly had not been drinking as he stood his ground steadily, waiting for Cheol to make a move.

“You want that slut,” Cheol sneered, pointing a shaky finger at you. “You can have her. I used her all up anyway.”

You thought that Jungkook was going to explode like a star and take everyone with him. His gaze darkened as he surged forward, grabbed a stunned Cheol by his collar and literally swept him off his feet with one kick of his foot, and began dragging him through the house. The crowd parted like a fog around a car, immediately closing in on them so they could see what Jungkook was about to do. The crowd piled out of the front door after them as Jungkook drug a kicking Cheol down the front steps. You tried to push passed all the people, but the crowd was closing in and you were desperate to get outside. When you were able to make it out the front door and to the porch you saw Jungkook drop Cheol on the front lawn before sitting on his chest. You saw his fist raise and before you could intervene as you stumbled down the steps, you heard the sickening crack as he connected with his face.

You could not believe this was happening right now. Jungkook had really lost his mind.

“You don’t love her, stupid mother fucker,” Jungkook growled as he grasped his shirt in his left fist and raised his fist once more.

Crack.

You winced and turned away as Jungkook yet again, connected with Cheol’s face.

His fist came back into the air, bloody, skin split, but he didn’t even seem to notice as he directed his anger on Cheol.

“And you’re sure as hell never touching her again.”

This time, the hit sounded wet. When you looked back, you could tell Cheol was out cold.

“Jungkook, please!” you called out. At the sound of your voice Jungkook froze and seemed to snap out of it. He turned and looked at your pained expression as you begged him to stop. He dropped his hand and looked down at Cheol’s bloody face.

Hobi came running from inside the house, leaping off the porch in one bound and was pulling Jungkook off him.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?!” Hobi was looking from him to Cheol to assess the damage.

Cheol’s friends were now surrounding as Hobi pulled Jungkook away from the scene, sternly telling him he needed to leave before another fight broke out and he called the cops.

That’s when you knew you had a decision to make.

Cheol lay completely still in the grass, left eye swelling, and blood pouring from his bottom lip. If you guessed correctly, his nose was probably broken too. You were finally able to see him for who he truly was; a manipulative bastard that never loved you but wanted you to himself. He was ugly inside and out and all it took was seeing him finally being reduced to nothing. Gone was the “tough” exterior of Cheol. Your eyes met Jungkook’s from across the yard. He still looked angry, but you saw fear there too. He saw your eyes flicker to Cheol again and he knew you were trying to decide between the two. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t at least act like you were going to walk his way. But you had already decided. Cheol had his “friends”. They all fussed over him now deciding who was going to take him to the ER. None of them even turned to find you. You walked past the group and straight into the arms of Jungkook.

“Let’s go home,” he said shakily. His adrenaline was ebbing, and he was starting to feel the repercussions of his actions.

Ten minutes into the thirty minute walk and you were reduced to a sobbing mess. The night and all the things leading up to it were easily being stored away as they happened, as your brain always did to protect you. But now that there was a whole added element of worry you weren’t expecting, you didn’t know how to feel so naturally you began to panic. On top of that, your feet were starting to bleed from your heels. The entire time, Jungkook was next to you, arm around your waist as you walked. He was the one that needed help walking, not you, yet here he was making sure you were okay.

“Hey, everything’s okay,” he whispered as he stopped.

Your body felt spent as if you had stayed up for hours on end; exhaustion finally settling into your bones. After the initial shock had settled, you suddenly feared for Jungkook, knowing what Cheol was capable of doing.

“Jungkook…,” you cried. You reached down and pulled your heels off. On top of being frustrated, scared, and tired your feet were in so much pain you could barely stand it.

He looked down and sighed.

“Oh, baby…,” he said sympathetically.

The sentiment made your heart skip a beat, but it was something you could think about later. He waited until you were upright before he scooped you up bridal style.

“Jungkook, you don’t have-,” you started before he cut you off with a ‘shh’. You looked down at his bloody knuckles, the skin very angry in some spots where he split them open. He paid no mind as he held you close, and you let your head fall against his shoulder. His breathing was steady as he carried you and he didn’t say a word the whole way. In no time, he was buzzing into your building and carrying you up the stairs. He only sat you down at your door so you could fish out your key. Once inside, he ensured the door was locked and the window leading to the fire escape.

“We gotta clean up your hand,” you said almost robotically as you moved on instinct towards the bathroom.

“____,” he said while reaching out to stop you and you flinched.

For the second time, you broke his heart as you jumped as if he were going to hit you.

“It’s okay,” he reassured as he ran his hand down your hair.

You started to cry again, but this time you didn’t feel as if the panic would consume and kill you. You felt bad for Jungkook.

You didn’t say anything as you guided him to the bathroom and he sat down on the edge of the tub as you pulled a first aid kit out from the cabinet. You sat on the toilet, knees to knees, as you grabbed his hand and sat it on your thigh. Grabbing a washcloth, you held it next to his hand as you carefully poured peroxide over the cuts. He watched you intently as you focused on the work at hand. In the moments Jungkook had you away from Cheol was when that fake exterior would start to melt little by little. When you were around Jungkook, you relaxed and were yourself. He’d see old pieces of you come back from time to time and he felt like he got his best friend back, until you went home to him. He felt angry again as he thought about what Cheol took away from him, what he took away from you, but he kept it to himself as you reached for antibacterial cream and some butterfly band-aids.

“What were you thinking?” you finally whispered.

You were still working slowly, paying attention to each knuckle.

What was he thinking? Part of him was blinded by anger and the other part knew exactly what it was doing. He wanted to beat the shit out of Cheol, had wanted to for quite some time. This time he was able to witness him put his hands on you, so he felt justified.

“I didn’t like seeing you get hurt,” he mumbled. He was embarrassed now, but he didn’t regret what he had done.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you sighed as you reached for some gauze to wrap his hand.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Jungkook to say, but the air felt different. There was a tension you could taste, and you felt Jungkook struggling to say something.

“I could be so much better to you.” He sounded as if he were going to cry. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way, _____. Please tell me you’ll leave him. I’m scared for you.”

You felt him looking at your face now and you were almost afraid to look at him as you put the final touches on his hand. His eyes were pleading when you finally looked at him.

If you couldn’t love him back, he at least wanted you to promise him that you’d leave the asshole.

He was right. All this time when he tried to keep you close and you pushed him away, he was in fear for your life. The person you thought should care for you could not care less, and the person that loved you the most was a phone call away and your best friend. You were blind to what you had when Cheol made himself the center of your universe. But Jungkook was loyal when he didn’t need to be, always there when you needed to fall into his arms no matter how much it hurt to see you walk out of his door.

Many nights he’d cry knowing you were going back into the clutches of Cheol and he was helpless to do anything. He’d daydream about killing Cheol or waiting for him to get off work and punch him in the face as he tried to get in his car. Yes, he was thinking extremely, but he was afraid.

Tonight was the last straw for Jungkook.

“I’d never hurt you, ____,” he said, lowly, defeated.

You loooked at the front of his jacket, focused on his buttons as you tried to distract yourself.

“I love you, too,” you murmured.

Jungkook leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your temple, and the top of your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered shut as he softly placed his hands under your jaw, holding you gently, fingers barely grazing your skin as he kissed across your nose. You leaned your face into one of his hands and he took the moment to tilt your face upwards as he placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I want to show you what love should feel like, _____,” he whispered against your lips, but he wasn’t touching you.

You shivered. It had been so long since someone treated you this way and honestly it scared you. If you mess up something would he be mad at you? You felt as if you were always doing something wrong.

He seemed to feel your apprehension and sighed, not out of frustration, but a sadness he couldn’t seem to shake. Cheol had effectively beaten you basically to nothing, mostly mentally. He wanted to be angry again, but he needed to hold back for you.

He placed his lips softly against yours, not expecting anything from you. He let you take your time as you kissed him back. Happiness began to bubble in his chest as you reciprocated his feelings.

This felt right. Jungkook wasn’t rushing you. He didn’t expect anything from you. He wasn’t demanding you to pleasure him. He let you lead as you kissed him. It heated fast as you sat a little straighter and wrapped an arm around his neck. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, but the limited space in the bathroom and your legs kept him from getting much closer.

He stood swiftly, bringing you with him and guided you to your room, working on muscle memory as he focused on you the whole way. You felt shy under his gaze since half the time Cheol didn’t even want to look at you. He studied you as if you would fall apart at any moment. His fingers intwined with yours and he was gentle. He didn’t reach for your wrist or your arm or grip you so tightly that his fingers dug into your skin. You began to relax little by little as he stood you in front of your bed. He reached for the hem of your dress and looked at you for permission. You nodded slowly as he started to pull the dress up passed your hips and you raised your arms to help him. He stopped and removed his jacket and then his jeans followed by his shirt, putting you on equal ground.

“Are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned as he kept his movements slow, not wanting to startle or rush you. He ran his hand softly up your arm and squeezed your shoulder gently before pulling you into his warm embrace. The skin on skin contact comforted you and it brought back memories of nights snuggled up next to Jungkook before Cheol came into your life and ruined that. For the first time in months you didn’t feel scared or useless. Jungkook’s actions said it all.

He held you there for a few moments, ensuring you were okay. He knew you were vulnerable and didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You felt a small sob get stuck in your throat.

“You’re wonderful, and smart, and the most adventurous person I know. Remember the first we did something together out of town? You convinced me to go ghost hunting at that abandoned hospital and all we found was a family of raccoons and a homeless guy.”

He laughed as a you giggled a little, sniffing, and smiling as you remembered Jungkook’s screams when the raccoon walked up behind him.

He ran his fingers through your hair and massaged the back of your head as you leaned against his chest.

“I love the way you look in the morning when you first wake up, like a steamed bun.”

You laughed again.

“Or the way you sing in the shower. I must say you have improved over the years. I love when you put my blanket in the dryer before I come over and it’s cold out. Those ham sandwiches?! I don’t know what you put on them, but I’d fight a kid over one if I had to.”

Your laugh was music. This is what he wanted. He wanted all of you. He wanted you to know that all of you was worth having, that you meant something, a human being deserving of love. He had loved you for years, but your friendship meant more to him than his silly feelings. Seeing you suffer made him regret not saying anything sooner.

“Can I show you?” he asked.

You knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say more as you pulled him into another kiss in affirmation. He reached behind you, snapping the clasp easily, and slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders, letting it fall. He had seen you naked hundreds of times for various reasons, but never this. Now, you were in front of him giving yourself to him and he was elated to get the chance. He cupped your breast lightly and squeezed a little, testing your limits. You moaned and leaned into him, nipping at his bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss as you buried your hands in his hair. He then wrapped his arms around you, gently laying you back amongst the blankets without breaking the kiss. He kissed the underside of your jaw, nipped gently at the skin of your neck, and placed small kisses to your breast before wrapping his lips around your nipple. Your skin tingled as he sucked gently and ran his tongue over it. Your whines spurred him on as you held on tighter and arched your back into him. He caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The soft gauze tickled across your skin as his hand glided down to your thigh. He directed his kisses between your chest now, kissing down your stomach. He was worshipping your body the way it was meant to be. He noticed some older bruises sprinkled across your skin and made sure to kiss every single one, soothing your anxiety. His fingers caught in the band of your underwear and pulled them down. Using the back of his hand, he pushed gently against your inner thigh and you spread your legs for him. You felt shy, but all once wholly comfortable. He had seen the best and worst parts of you, what was one more thing? This felt intimate in a different way, on a deeper level. He understood your body before he even got to touch you. Hands gripping the insides of your thighs, he kissed along the flesh there.

Some years ago, you were standing in the kitchen washing dishes, wearing one of Jungkook’s discarded shirts, and a pair of shorts. He had walked in to give you a glass when he looked down and ran his finger up a stretch mark on your thigh.

“I like these,” he had said with a smile before walking from the room.

The memory warmed you now as he placed wet kisses to the dimpled and marked expanse of your thighs. He blew a stream of warm air over your wet center and you moaned and shuddered. You tried closing your legs so you could feel some friction, but he kept your thighs apart with a firm hand. He moved his hands further up your inner thighs, almost cupping your sex as he flattened his hands and spread you to get a better look.

“You’re fucking beautiful, ____. You know that right?”

He watched your face twist as he teased you. Knowing that you wanted him had him grinding his own hips into the blanket. No. He wanted to feel you around him before he reached any sort of end. He licked up your center and you moaned gutturally, grabbing at your own breasts as you bent your knees to frame his head. He kept you spread as he covered you with his mouth, tongue dancing along your clit. Your juices mixed with his spit and his chin practically dripped with it all. He had never tasted anything better. The sounds you were giving him were like an orchestra of angels. He wanted you to feel his adoration as he ate you out with fervor. He dipped his tongue inside of you and soon his name was rolling off your tongue like raindrops.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you sighed as he inserted his middle finger inside of you.

You swallowed him in a velvety wetness that had his cock twitching amongst the cotton, and he ground his hips, moaning into your cunt as he thought about you swallowing his cock. You cried out as his moans stimulated something inside of you that had you teetering on the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. Cheol never bothered to do this to you. He either used your mouth or your cunt, whether you came or not. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm. Jungkook was moaning more now, working his finger up inside of you, and suckling at your swollen clit. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe as your body tensed, orgasm hitting you with a force you hadn’t felt in a while. He continued licking and lapping at you as if he wanted every drop, nudging his perfectly sloped nose into your sensitive clit.

“P-please,” you stuttered. You watched him through half closed eyes as he took a few long licks up your cunt before licking his own lips and smiling at you. He reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers as he kissed up your stomach again.

He let go of your hand to push your hair off your sweaty forehead and placed a kiss on the end of your nose.

“Please what?” he asked you before placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Make love to me?”

His eyes slid shut slowly as he replayed the phrase a thousand times in quick successions. He was kissing you again. Passionately. He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating the tip. You moaned and circled your hips wanting more of him. He pushed in slowly, face nestled into your neck, committing to memory every feeling he was experiencing right now.

“I love you so much, ____,” he murmured against your skin.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his back, the other hand tangled in his hair and holding him against your chest.

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh my god.” You were gasping as he stretched you and reached places Cheol only thought he could. “I love you.”

He pressed into you further as he brought his stomach down to yours. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass trying to get him even deeper. He grunted as he began to slowly thrust into you, concentrating on not coming too soon.

You ground your hips upwards, rotating just a little with each thrust. Your hand slipped along his back as sweat formed on his skin. His breathing quickened as he thrust faster and faster. His fingers were intwined with yours, your hand on the pillow above you while his other arm was reached underneath you and holding the hair at your nape.

“F-fuck-k.” You had him stuttering as you squeezed around him. For years he wondered what you felt like, jealous of any guy you were dating but too chicken shit to ask you out himself. Now you were here, still trusting him to protect you, and giving yourself fully.

“I want you to come, baby.” He gripped your hair hard and you moaned. Your fingers tightened in his and he felt so euphoric he wouldn’t even have cared if he didn’t get to come, but you had him so hungry for you that he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. He released your hair to bring his hand between the two of you and pressing a couple of fingers against your clit.

You gasped loudly as he began to circle your clit slowly and then faster and faster. Your toes curled inwards and you dug yours heels even harder into him as he snapped his hips against you quickly. He skillfully moved his fingers on your clit while biting the space beneath your ear. You were seeing stars before your eyes rolled back and you were forced to close them. You could swear that your body was checking out. You felt high and Jungkook was your drug of choice. He felt you tighten around him and he could practically feel your impending orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, come on my cock. God I wanna make you feel like this forever.”

The sincerity in his voice, his cock brushing every erogenous zone there was, and his fingers sent your orgasm soaring. Electricity seemed to flow from where you were connected to your limbs where your fingers and toes tingled.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathed as he quickened his thrusts. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” His voice almost became a whine as he thrust harder and harder, hand gripping your waist, and singing praises about you against your skin.

You felt his cum as he filled you up. His moan was long and deep, thrusting, and milking himself inside of you. You were his now and he wasn’t letting you go.

When the stimulation became too much, he stilled inside of you. His breathing started to even out and soon the only sounds was your soft breathing. After a few minutes had passed and you had suspected him to be drifting, he sat up and looked down at you.

“Let me protect you,” he said softly, voice trailing off at the end.

You believed him. You relaxed for the first time in what felt like months. You could finally be yourself with no repercussions and Jungkook was adamant in making you feel as loved as possible. You tried to hold back your tears but the dam broke when he looked at you so lovingly.

“Baby, _____,” he cooed as he used his thumb to brush away a few tears.

You clung to him desperately, feeling as if he were to let go, you’d be exposed to more harm. He shifted to his side and pulled you into his chest, drawing his legs inwards to curl you even closer to him.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered. He could hear the fear laced in your tone. His heart ached and tightened in his chest.

“Never,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

It wouldn’t be easy getting you back to the carefree person he once knew, but he was willing to take the time. Being there for you had always been his focus, so a little setback was all he needed to be with you that much more. His wish was for you to get your confidence back, to see you dancing in the kitchen while making pancakes, and to see that sparkle in your eye when you looked at him. It would take time, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity.

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #nonidol!au #tw: abuse #tw: mental abuse #bts angst #jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Where Do I Fit? (Preath x Little!Reader)

Request: angsty little!reader with Tobin, where Tobin was rs caretaking fir way before Christen(like since college?) and they tell Christen but she isnt okay with it at first but accepts it by gettung r stuffies to apologise?

“It’s not like that Chris,” Tobin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her elbows rested on her knees. The two of you had been trying to explain this for a better part of an hour, and Christen still didn’t understand.

“Then tell me what it’s like Tobin, because from what you’ve said it sounds like your adult friend pretends to be a toddler, and you give her baths and feed her bottles. Do I need to continue? It’s some kinky shit-...” Christen said exasperated, frustratedly running fingers through her hair. How Tobin thought she would be ok with this? She was at a loss for words.

Tobin shook her head, blinking up at her girlfriend “It’s not sexual Christen. It just-“

“What, makes you feel good?” Christen spat, crossing her arms defensively across her chest.

“Helps me deal with stress and anxiety, in a more positive way,” you mumbled, shifting anxiously on the couch next to Tobin, shivering at the glare Christen sent your way. You weren’t in love with Tobin, actually, you had a girlfriend of your own (who also happened to be little). Tobin was your safety blanket, and you just wished Christen could understand.

****

Tobin had been your mama since college. An arrangement that had been made after she found you curled up under your dorm room bed, so stressed you didn’t know what day it was much less what stuff you had to get done. Instead of running away, she had pulled you into her arms and rocked you until you were done crying.

After a little research and some explaining about why you regressed and how long it had been happening on your end, Tobin wholeheartedly embraced the role of Mama. And together you became more comfortable. She made you bottles and helped you keep track of school and soccer. As your best friend she decided it was her duty to protect you, and you were too fucking adorable when you were little to pass up.

Then your Mama started dating Christen, and after a few months of them being serious, it was decided that you had to tell Chris. That you could propose that she join in your little arrangement. You got along well with the woman, and she was pretty nurturing to you anyway (especially at national team camps) making sure you ate and didn’t stay up at all hours of the night with your girlfriend and the youngins.

****

Christen paused mid-pace, turning to look her girlfriend in the eye. “I don’t know how I feel about having a third person in our relationship Tobin,” She said calmly, crossing her arms.

“Baby, I promise you it’s not like that. Y/n may be my baby girl, but I’m not romantically attracted to her. She’s my best friend, and this helps her,” Tobin pleaded, begging for the woman she loved to understand. She didn’t want to lose her and she didn’t want to lose her baby girl. You were a very sensitive little, absolutely petrified of her getting bored and abandoning you one day. She had made so many promises, and she couldn’t bear the thought that she might have to break them.

“So what, she’ll call you whenever she’s little and you’ll just fucking drop everything to go ‘help’ her?” Christen’s eyebrow quirked up.

You frowned. You had been hoping that this conversation would end in you having another mommy, so technically you would be calling them, and you were always mindful of overstaying your welcome.

“I wouldn’t abuse that,” You huffed.

“But you can’t control when you're little or whatever right? As long as you’re involved in this thing, she will always come first, and that’s not a healthy relationship,” Christen asked viciously, turning her attention to you for the first time. You sunk into the couch, fighting the natural descent into little space that came with such looks. With looks only Moms could muster.

You opened your mouth to respond, only for Tobin to jump in first. “Babe, we’ll figure it out. I was act-”

“Well then, I’ll be back when you figure your priorities out,” Christen scoffed, grabbing her keys and her purse and slamming the door behind her.

Heavy silence stretched across Tobin’s apartment, both of you staring at the door.

You hadn’t been expecting things to be rainbows and butterflies, but you didn’t think it was going to come down to an ultimatum. Little you or the love of Tobin’s life. It wasn’t a fair choice, but you knew exactly what needed to be done, no matter how much it hurt.

“I was afraid that would happen,” You sighed, staring at the door, gulping to try and stay big. Trying to force yourself to hold back the painful emotions that were rattling in your chest. Someone had to be the mature one. The realistic one.

“Y/n,” Tobin said softly, her voice ruff with unushered tears.

You shook your head, patting her knee, but never looking in her direction. If you did you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together anymore. You wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. You had promised yourself that you would never get in the way of her love life, and you were about to follow through on that. “It’s fine Tobin. I understand,”

“I love her,” Tobin said, sniffling, and you felt a little piece of your heart crack. Didn't Tobin love little you too? Just not enough. You swallowed hard, again pushing those feelings down. This wasn’t about you, and Tobin deserved to be happy.

“I know. Go after her, I know how to let myself out. I’ll go to Lindsey’s and text the group chat to see if anyone wants another little,” You shrugged. Lindsey could handle you and your girlfriend for the night, and the group chat was sure to be able to give you good advice, at least until you figured this whole thing out. They hadn’t let you down yet.

Tobin made a strangled sound at the mention of the group chat. At the idea that one of her friends could ever replace her as your mama. She knew that it was the logical next step (you and little Em were a handful on your own, together you were little terrors), but she couldn’t help the little twinge in her heart.

“I’m sorry,” She said, bringing her hand over yours and squeezing tightly. She hoped it could convey how badly she felt about this whole situation. She never thought Christen would react so badly.

You bit your lip, avoiding looking at your mama. “Don’t be. You were the best Mama ever. Now go,” You mumbled, kissing the back of her hand and shooing her towards the door. She didn’t even spare a glance in your direction as she left.

You stood from the couch, walking to the guest room that always served as your nursery. You collected your little things bag, Roary (you could never leave him behind), and your Batman blanket before heading towards the door. You paused in the doorway, turning to glance over the room one more time, allowing yourself to reminisce for just a second. How you wished this night had gone differently. You sighed, shaking your head and closing the door behind you. You would find a new caregiver, but Tobin would always be your mama.

****

You were miserable. Completely, totally and utterly miserable. Hovering somewhere between adult you and little you, curled up in the corner of Lindsey’s couch, staring listlessly into space. Even your girlfriend cuddled into your side, running race cars gently over your legs couldn't cheer you up, and Lindsey was starting to get worried.

“I don’t know what else to do, short of calling Tobin,” Lindsey said quietly, watching you from where her and Kelley were hovering by the door. It was one thing handling her little handful, and a complete other trying to take in both of you at the same time. She didn’t even know where to begin with you, hence why she called in reinforcements.

You had known Kelley and Alex for almost as long as you had known Tobin. You trusted them, and if anyone could get you out of your funk, your aunt Kelley could.

“You tried pudding?” Kelley asked, biting her lip. You were curled into the couch, Emily cuddled into your side, sending glances every now and then towards the stuffed triceratops you had left on the other couch. Pudding was little you’s favorite cheat food, and if that didn’t work she wasn’t sure what to do next. By now the entire team was aware of what was going on between you and Tobin, and none of them were surprised that little you wasn’t taking it so well.

“And ice cream, and hot pretzels and Mac and cheese. I even tried warm milk,” Lindsey nodded. She had seen you upset before, but never this bad. She was literally at her wits end, and Emily wasn’t even being her normally bratty self.

“Damn,” Kelley sighed, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously. How Tobin was going to fix this mess she didn’t know and how she was going to aid your obviously miserable self she wasn’t sure either.

“Yeah, and she forbade me from calling Tobs,” Lindsey mumbled, patting Kelley’s shoulder. Kelley was known to have a magic touch with littles, but Lindsey was skeptical anyone besides your mama could pull you from this funk.

“From the text she sent the group chat I’m not surprised. I’ll see what I can do,” Kelley nodded, shooing Lindsey towards the kitchen to heat up some Mac and cheese. She would get you to eat something even if it killed her.

She slowly made her way over to you, gently patting Emily’s shin when she was close enough. “Hey Emmy, your mama wants to see you in the kitchen please,”

The blond little blinked up at her, big Emily suddenly very present in her eyes. She didn’t like how much pain you were in, but you both trusted Kelley. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Emily nodded once, seemingly satisfied that Kelley would help.

Emily leaned up and kissed your cheek before toddling off towards the kitchen. Maybe mama would get her a cookie.

Kelley took her spot, watching you carefully, as though you were a puzzle she was trying to solve. “How you holding up bug?”

You shrugged in response, tucking your legs tighter underneath you and crossing your arms.

“Not too good then huh?” Kelley filled in, scooting a little bit closer to you, taking a breath of relief when you didn’t curl into an impossibly tighter ball.

You nodded once. While big you understood why Tobin couldn’t be your mama, little you was devastated that she had chosen someone over you. That she didn’t love you anymore (big you knew this was just as hard for her).

Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. You usually hovered around 2 and a half or three when you were little, but this version of you was far smaller. Small enough for you to go nonverbal. The only person to see you this small was Tobin, and as far as Kelley knew the last time this had happened you were still in college.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but Roary was telling me that his tummy was hurting. Does your tummy hurt?” She asked you softly, holding up your favorite stuffed triceratops and wiggling him in front of your face.

You shrugged again. Yeah your tummy was a little grumbly, but you were sad and all you wanted was for mama to scoop you up, but she couldn’t.

“I know you’re upset bug, but not eating isn’t going to make you or Roary feel better, ok? Aunt Lindsey made Mac and cheese and it’ll warm you up ok?” she tried again, nudging your cheek with Roary’s nose. You bit your lip in thought. You did love Mac and cheese, and you didn’t want Roary to turn into a grumpasaurus.

“Otay,” you mumbled, reaching for the defender (who despite her short stature was still an inch taller than you). She smiled tightly at you, handing you your stuffed Dino and picking you up to head towards the kitchen. At least they were getting you to eat.

*****

Christen sighed from her place on the couch next to Tobin, glaring at the cellphone that had gotten far more attention than she had tonight. All she wanted was a date night with her girlfriend, and Tobin had spent the whole thing glued to her phone, nervously biting her lip.

“Alright, who have you been texting all night?” Christen asked, pulling away from Tobin and wrapping the blanket tighter around her.

The midfielder turned forward blinked and sat back to look carefully at her girlfriend. “Lindsey,” Tobin said, biting her lip.

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s up with Linds?”

Tobin sighed. “Y/n went to stay with her until preseason starts. Emily’s there too and she wanted to hang out with her girlfriend,”

“So what, why has Lindsey been texting you?” Christen asked. She was usually good at following Tobin’s train of thought, but she was lost.

Tobin sighed again, shaking her head. “Y/n is having a really hard time, and I know you think it’s just some weird kink or something, but little Y/n doesn’t understand what’s happening. She doesn’t know what she did wrong and Lindsey needs some advice on how to handle her,”

Christen’s back straightened immediately at the mention of your name. She thought she had made her opinion clear. “How can you say that like Y/n is two people. Like she isn’t manipulating you into doing what she wants?” Christen said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

Tobin took a deep breath trying to figure out how to explain it. How to make her girlfriend understand that it was so much more than you pretending to be a kid for a little while. “Y/n isn’t two people, and she isn’t manipulating me. That’s evident considering she forbade Lindsey from calling me,” Tobin started calmly, picking at a stray thread on her pants. She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find the right words to explain it. “It’s not a sexual thing for her. It’s about trust. When y/n is little she doesn’t have to worry about everyday things, she can trust that I’ll take care of her. That no matter what happens, someone will be there to protect her. That no one will abandon her…” her voice cracked.

That’s exactly what she had done, isn’t it? Abandoned her best friend?.

Christen pulled her into a hug, letting her sob into her shoulder. It was hard to see Tobin this upset, even if she didn’t fully understand why.

“My relationship with her isn’t like the one I have with you. She loves Emily,” The words were muffled by Christen’s shoulder, but the forward heard them loud and clear.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She had done some research after Tobin had initially told her, but this was turning out to be way more complicated than the online forum suggested. If Emily was involved too, and you were dating her, then why did you need Tobin?

“Why can’t Emily be her mama?” She asked softly, honestly trying to understand this mess.

Tobin leaned back, wiping her eyes.

“Cause Emily’s little too and that would be dangerous. Lindsey takes care of Em like I take care of Y/n,”

Christen nodded as she took in the information. That made sense. If you couldn’t necessarily control being little, then it was possible you would both slip at the same time (or one could trigger the other). That did seem like a pretty bad idea for a long term solution.

But if Lindsey was there, then what was the problem?

“I just don’t understand how I fit into this whole thing,” Christen said after a few minutes, finally looking Tobin in the eyes, searching for the answer.

“You don’t have to deal with her when she’s little if you don’t want to. I just didn’t want to hide it from you,” Tobin shrugged, running a hand through her hair (the weight on her chest lifting just a bit now that Christen actually seemed to be willing to talk about this).

“If she’s here, I’m not just going to ignore her,” Christen scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Tobin’s lips ticked up just a bit. She wasn’t sure if Christen realized she had basically said you were going to be around, but Tobin was pleased with the new development. Maybe Christen just needed to logic it out a little bit more to become more open to the idea, but she wasn’t going to force her into something she wasn’t comfortable with.

“It’s still the Y/n you know, just a little bit more carefree. A little more silly and cuddly. You don’t have to be around her, but if you wanted to… she was gonna ask if you wanted to see what being a caretaker with me was like,” She said, leaning in and nudging under Christen’s chin with her nose.

Christen frowned, pouting a little, the real reason she had been so against the idea initially finally rolling from her lips. “She wasn’t trying to take you away from me-“

Tobin was shaking her head before Christen even finished her sentence. “No, she was trying to include you,”

You had been open to the idea of being little around Christen (hesitant, but open especially if it meant including the woman your mama was head over heels for.

The silence stretched between them for a few long seconds, broken only by Christen’s sigh.

“I fucked up,” She mumbled, pinching the space between her eyes, completely missing Tobin’s blinding smile.

“We fucked up, now let’s go fix it,” Tobin said, kissing her girlfriend’s cheeks and standing, extending her hand for the woman to take. They would make this right together.

*****

Kelley would say that you were tolerating dinner. You were reluctantly opening your mouth for the airplanes of Mac and Cheese she was sending your way, glancing longingly at Roary (who was eating his carrots in his very own seat across from you).

Lindsey had gotten up a few minutes ago to answer the door but had yet to return. That was why you were taking turns having Kelley feed you bites of dinner with Emmy.

Kelley lifted the next bite up to your lips, but you pulled your head away. “No tank you,”

Kelley sighed, leaning forward to make eye contact with you. “Baby, you’ve only had two bites. You need to eat a little more for me please,”

You rapidly shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want to eat the stupid Mac and cheese. You wanted your mama to love you again, but she was off loving Christen.

“It otay, I eat Mac for you,” Emily said, patting your arm and placing a very sloppy kiss on your cheek. She didn’t like it when you were upset, and if she got more Mac and cheese out of it, then that was fine with her too.

Kelley glared at the younger defender. You didn’t need any more encouragement to not eat, especially when you were this fussy. “I don’t think it works like that Em”

She looked back into your direction(ignoring your girlfriend’s pout), making her voice soft and sympathetic “Come on Y/n, 5 more bites please,”

You whined loudly, shaking your head rapidly and kicking your feet a little in displeasure. The tears were now falling heavily down your very red face. “No want it!!”

“Alright bug,” Kelley murmured, pulling you into her lap, and letting you cry it out. You buried your face in her shoulder, heartbreaking sobs wracking through you. Kelley rubbed circles into your back, and carded her fingers through your hair, trying to soothe you. When that didn’t work, she carefully transferred you into a very familiar lap.

*****

You clung to Tobin as though your life depended on it, fisting her sweatshirt like you thought she would disappear at any second. You probably thought she would, Christen noted.

It was truly a pitiful sight so see, and each little sob from your lips was like a knife in Christen’s chest. She hadn’t known what to expect when Lindsey said you were taking it hard, but it most certainly wasn’t this. It made her apology gift seem incredibly inadequate.

“No babydoll, I’m never leaving you again. I promise,” Tobin said into your hair, rocking you to try and ease the wave of tears streaming down your cheeks.

“But you wove Christen,” You said, though your voice was muffled by Tobin’s shoulder and your tears, Christen heard the words loud and clear. She shared a look with Tobin over your head, and she knew that she was the only one who could fix this mess.

She knelt down next to you, carefully rubbing your back, encouraging you to look at her. You obliged, rubbing your bloodshot eyes as you pulled away from Tobin.

“Tobin can love both of us darling, and I see that now. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see that before, but if you’re willing, I’d like to try helping your mama take care of you when you’re little,” She said softly.

“No make me go bye bye?” You asked, sniffling.

“No little one,” Christen reassured, bringing her thumb up to while away a stray tear. “No I brought a friend, but they don’t have a name yet. Do you think you can help me out?” She said, holding up the stuffed dragon they had picked up for you as an apology.

You gently grabbed the purple stuffie, holding him very close to your nose, and examining him carefully. “Spike wants ta know if we go home?” You said after a few seconds, poking your tongue out the side of your mouth. Christen and Tobin laughed lightly at your expression.

“Yeah, let’s go home,”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #preath x reader #preath imagine

329 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 3 years ago

Text

Didn’t Need Burrow (May 30th-July 5th)

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Narrative basically ret-cons bad behavior of someone who isn't Marinette.

Oh yay! Alya V2!

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need Burrow to know that Mouse!Mylene will be called Multimouse.

I read somewhere that her name will be Polymouse but the source was broken.

Please be a mistake back when we saw the hero names and Mylene didn’t get her own name.

I’d also like to add a bonus that either Mylene gets named that without her consent (like someone calls her that), or Mylene names herself that without any knowledge of Multimouse!Marinette at all.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: Assuming Luka×Zoe actually happens, there will be no build up whatsoever. In one episode, they just happen to get trapped together somewhere, talk for like ten seconds and start dating immediately afterwards. Basically the same as Alya×Nino bc none of the ships in this show (other than Lukanette and Adrigami) had any sort of meaningful developement before happening

A relationship beyond the love square getting development??? That’s cute.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: Nino is gonna realize that Alya has the fox miraculous full time now and because of that he's gonna get pissy and so somehow Alya will be outta commission and Nino will be there so Marinette will give him a miraculous, Alya will probably say something encouraging about Nino, and then HE'LL get a full time miraculous to.

The only reason I don’t feel like this won’t happen is that it doesn’t direct anywhere near as much blame onto Marinette.

Anonymous asked:

Don't need burrow to know Chat will get angry at Ladybug and maybe Rena because Rena is now a permanent hero and he'll spend the day being a dick, but he'll be forced to work with Rena and realize things are good, but he'll only apologize to Rena.

Ladybug is just used to being chopped liver I assume.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Adrigami is restored, while Lukanette isn't.

Marinette will be too busy being forced by the narrative to continue caring about Adrien.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow, Su Han will only reappear at the end of the season and then disappear again.

“Hi, Su-Ha--oh, there he goes.”

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Adrien decide to confess his secret identity as Chat Noir to Nathalie. She decide to don't tell him that his father is Hawkmoth (but also decide to don't tell Gabriel that his son is Chat Noir)

God, the Agreste drama intensifies. Kill me.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette actually REJECTS Adrien after the identity reveal after it hits her all at once that HE did all the awful, questionable things Chat Noir did. This allows the Love Square Drama to continue, with Marinette being slammed for DARING to be upset/have STANDARDS - everyone claims that she's set the bar too impossibly high and is responsible for her own romantic misery, while Adrien continues being coddled by other temporary love interests while waiting for her to wise up.

Uggggggh.

I’m just waiting for Ladybug to loudly reject Chat Noir and then she falls for him soon after and bonus if Chat rubs it in her face that she’s moved on or the narrative ignores Chat’s past actions as Ladybug is all like, “WOW HE’S SO RESPECTFUL NOW.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug's continued rejections of Chat Noir are directly compared to Gabriel's shitty parenting -- both of them are denying Adrien things he wants, and these crimes against Sadrien are depicted as equally awful. (If not weighted towards Ladybug being worse because sHe'S bReAkInG hIs WiDdLe HeArT~~~)

This one wins for making me the most upset.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: Juleka will become the tiger hero in another Julerose-centric episode, but this time Rose is akumatized (into princess fragrance again, but this time with a sentimonster so it’s DiFfErEnT). It will chronologically take place after guilt trip, but Rose’s disability will not be acknowledged, even in passing.

I swear, if I have to see a repeat akuma ONE MORE TIME!!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: The major conflict of the season will be Marinette repeating “mistakes” (this can be similar to not keeping chat 100% in the loop till he throws a fit or having a human to depend on emotionally about miraculous stuff) Bonus: The show doesn’t show the good that came out of her actions and only the bad (Not having a breakdown and etc)

Yup. Definitely Marinette’s fault that she needed to rely on someone so she didn’t have a breakdown. She should’ve buried her emotions and broke down every day instead.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: After the show runners give into another fan theory of new permanent heroes, they will quickly show why this was a mistake. Bonus if it’s the very next episode (because if Marinette did it then it has to be bad)

This already felt super likely and then you added “because if Marinette did it then it has to be bad” and now I’m just sad because it’s doubly right.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette, who dreams of being a fashion designer, designs something that’s just ugly. Bonus if it’s never addressed/characters just say it’s great so the show doesn’t look bad at designing clothes

Does Ladybug count? Still can’t believe Chat Noir gets the “complex” outfit with actual thought and Ladybug gets the onesie.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: It's revealed that Emilie intended to use the Miraculi they'd found to 'give Adrien the world'. This is treated as a sympathetic motive because, as Word of God constantly insists, Adrien is perfect and deserves everything he desires, regardless of how anyone else feels about it. Thus it doesn't matter what horrific things his parents did or intended; their goals are treated as righteous, with Ladybug being Wrong to oppose them.

They just want what’s best for their son!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be a plot in which LADYBUG is accused of not caring about civilians, with Adrien/Chat Noir getting to lecture her as if HE has the moral high ground. Or any ground to stand on. His abysmal track record is completely ignored, retconned, or otherwise treated as inapplicable; we likely get a singular moment where he suddenly Gives A Shit about protecting one of his friends/classmates, which is treated as proof that he Always Cares About Such Matters.

Bonus if it’s Ladybug choosing not to defend/save someone who spited her/deserves it, which is “clearly worse” than Chat Noir threatening to let Paris drown in “Syren.” Ladybug is not allowed to be human and also not allowed to show people that there are consequences for their actions, proving that they/Chat can take advantage and mock her as much as they want with no repurcussions.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Sabrina and Chloe have another Friendship Breakup; when Sabrina seems poised to actually get away from her abusive 'BFF' for good, Adrien intervenes/whines at Marinette to help him fix it, because it's nOt FaAaAaIr for Chloe to be aLl AlOoOoOoNe...

Is it too late to make Adrien disappear and have it look like an accident.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: In a Shocking Twist, Cats are revealed to be cursed - the majority suffer some catastrophic fate as the Ring eventually causes their Destruction. Only True Love can break it, making Ladybug's refusal to give in to Chat Noir's advances a literal matter of life-and-death and 'justifying' all of his behavior. Bonus if it's retconned that *Adrien always knew this*, despite nothing in his behavior ever indicating he believed himself to be on borrowed time. Because Angstrese.

Also bonus if this is also used as just another way to make him seem sympathetic. Double bonus if this information is brought up after Ladybug snaps at Chat Noir, and she’s told this information to make her feel guilty.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: If Adrien reveal someone his secret identity, it will be ... obviously Wayhem.

Nino: hello darkness--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Goat!Marc, Rooster!Nathaniel and even Ox!Ivan will be buffed out because not even the boys in this show are allowed to keep their own body shapes when they become superheroes.

I’m positive Ivan especially will be beefed up. The civilian models are really awkward at times and clearly not prepared to be put in onesies (it’s hard to explain and maybe someone more experienced with propotions/anatomy will be able to say it better, but their limbs don’t have a lot of “shape” to them I guess?).

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: Alya’s miraculous looks exactly the same in it’s “camouflage” mode solely so Lila can easily switch her necklace with Alya’s. (seriously why does it not change that bothers the hell out of me)

If that happens, I’d put money on Alya not getting called out on it. Good to know you put so much priority on “secrecy,” Alya.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t need burrow: A kwami swap will happen again somehow. Marinette will uncharacteristically scold Adrien way more harshly than normal AGAIN to make him feel bad about himself and this will further the (Adrien melodrama depression arc) of him feeling useless/ replaced. Bonus points if Alya picks up his slack.

Honestly, I was here for the scolding in “Reflekdoll” just because there weren’t consequences for her for once.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: There will be Sad Noir galore. Its all Ladybug’s fault, naturally.

Naturally.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Episode where Sabrina gets Dog Miraculous will be Chloe-centric (or Bourgeois sisters centric)

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: the episode where Sabrina gets the Dog Miraculous (which seems inevitable now, ugh) will heavily feature or even focus on Chloé, despite the fact that Chloé has already had a couple of episodes focusing largely on her this season. Sabrina’s introduction as a hero will have about as much focus as Kim’s or will be jammed into the last five minutes of the episode. Bonus points if they manage to deny her a proper transformation sequence like they did Kagami.

Roger: *exists and desperately needs development on his policy that caused Sabrina to become Chloe’s slave in the first place*

show: okay but--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Under pressure, Marinette admits to Alya and/or Tikki that she doesn't mind the attention (aka constant harassment) Chat Noir gives her; parroting common claims by sexual harassers, she says it makes her feel *special* and *noticed*. She may also insist that she still wishes he would focus on the AKUMA/their responsibilities more, but the obvious point of this scene is to 'justify' his behavior with evidence that 'she enjoys it'.

MARINETTE

PLEASE

YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be a joke about Chat Noir *copping a feel* on Ladybug after an akuma sends them into an awkward position. Ladybug's shock and discomfort is played for laughs; bonus if he quips about her suit not leaving much to the imagination. Adrien is in a fantastic mood afterwards, considering that to be the 'best battle yet'. (Alternatively, another heroine is victimized and Ladybug is visibly jealous/her annoyance at Chat is treated like jealousy.)

I’m not adding this to the spreadsheet just because a scene like that is too dicey for a kid’s show (though, believe me, if it were to happen, I’m putting that on it’s own damn card), but I will say that this would 100% happen if this were an anime/aimed towards an older audience.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien tricks Alya into thinking that Chat Noir already knows Ladybug's secret identity, thusly learning that she's Marinette. This is passed off as all MARI's fault, naturally. If Alya apologizes at all, it's in a backhanded, "But why didn't he know this already?" sort of fashion.

It’s Marinette’s fault for telling Alya her identity in the first place.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Post-Reveal, Marinette struggles to reconcile how her crush is also her abusive slacker 'partner'. Adrien, by contrast, accepts her as Ladybug immediately... though his words make clear that he doesn't give a shit who SHE is, just that she's Ladybug. Naturally, this is treated as Mari needing to learn how to accept Adrien for who he is, all while insisting that his many flaws and failings aren't issues at all.

i hate it, thanks

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The RLBS is EXPLICITLY punishment for Marinette: after a mutual reveal, Adrien declares that they can't get together as civilians until she accepts him as Chat Noir. Mari is forced to awkwardly pursue Chat as Ladybug while he strings her along/humiliates her; meanwhile, Adrien trolls her with shallow gestures to fluster her/rile up their shipper classmates, who ride her ass for not 'sealing the deal' and making their relationship official. Alya, aware of everything, is the WORST about it.

I presume that “RLBS” is “Reverse Love BS” which... yes.

Also, that whole “she needs to accept him as Chat Noir” infuriates me because that’s been a fandom thing forever.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: The only reason Sabrina got Dog Miraculous is because of a scene where Chloe literally "Kick the Dog".

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow to know that despite Sabrina almost certainly getting a miraculous and becoming a hero, the fact that she deserves better than being abused by Chloé and is a worthwhile individual in her own right will not be addressed. Because StATuS QuO!

I just had a horrible thought that they’ll do the episode like--

Chloe treats Sabrina terribly like usual, Sabrina ditches Chloe and Chloe is miserable + takes it out on everyone else for it, then Chloe gets akumatized over it and Sabrina gets the dog (for “loyalty”), which leads to Sabrina going back to Chloe so that Chloe will direct the abuse more solely towards Sabrina because “she takes it out on others otherwise”/she’s “used to it”/”it’s her responsibility and this is the right thing to do.” This will also be presented as the “right choice” and Chloe and Sabrina’s relationship will basically not change for the sake of leaving Chloe the way she is.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Cat Noir is gonna throw a Syren-Sized fit if/when he finds out that Ladybug dares to have a support network through Alya (not a very GOOD support network, but one nonetheless).

Still waiting for the “lesson” where Ladybug is told she’s not allowed to have emotions/be vulnerable.

Oh wait, that’s the show.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir will angst and fish for sympathy points instead of apologizing for the 40th time in the series.

Every time.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Luka is gonna say that Adrien and Marinette are made for each other. This is the last appearance that he will make in the show (with exception to background/shipping fuel between him and somebody else w̶h̶o̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ ̶e̶i̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶Z̶o̶è̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶K̶a̶g̶a̶m̶i̶).

Considering the ““““parellel”“““ episodes of “Truth” and “Lies,” I’m just ready for the same thing that happened with Kagami in “Mr. Pigeon 72.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Trixx plays pranks on Alya's family and is a little troll; he particularly loves teasing the twins, since any claims they might make about seeing a 'magical flying fox' will be passed off as childish imaginings. Alya blames Marinette for this more than she does Trixx.

Marineeeette, raise your “children” better!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will wind up spilling Ladybug's secret identity to Nino because 'she needs to talk to SOMEONE about this!' (and Mari CLEARLY doesn't count for anything) and trusts her boyfriend.

I would also imagine Alya going on about Marinette’s secret to Nino without explicitly telling him.

Also, this will be an episode in this season because Alya couldn’t even keep it in for ONE SEASON (”Animan” all over again).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug will be seriously injured during an akuma battle, with circumstances preventing them from winning the fight/repairing the damage with Miraculous Cure right away. Adrien/Chat Noir attempts to exploit the situation to learn 'his lady's' secret identity. The narrative REFUSES to call him out on this; it's entirely on Marinette to protect herself by hiding the truth despite her injuries.

Bonus because “Ladybug” seemed to imply that their almost invincible in their suits, though I imagine if they get hurt, it’ll be Chat Noir and used for angst (like in “Miraculer”).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will combine Miraculi more often to cut down on having to track down others all the time and put them in danger. (And also because the merch guys want more stuff to base toys off of.) She gets condemned for being a 'glory hound' and 'taught' that she needs to rely upon others more often, no matter what sort of risks that might entail (she'll get blamed for that anyway) or how they might let her down (again, always her fault).

Marinette: *tries not to burden others and instead does what the narrative has convinced her of; bearing the world’s weight alone until she breaks*

show: gOd, mArIneTtE--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir's tendency to screw around, flirt, and not read or work with his allies at all gets Rena Rouge, Vesperia or one of the other heroes hurt. Naturally, this is played for Sadrien above all else -- if Ladybug or anyone else DARES to show any anger towards him for it, it's depicted as completely unjustified and unfair. Bonus if the injured party insists that it's okay.

They neeeed Chat Noir to lighten the mood! He’s worth the risk!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: RLBS is kicked off by Marinette being utterly HUMILIATED by Adrien publicly rejecting her once he can't ignore her crush anymore, spurring her to give up on him 'for good'. Adrien decides that he misses her chasing after him and starts pursuing her, with Alya and others encouraging her to accept his advances/telling her that she's crazy to reject him even after what he did. Marinette's utter misery over the whole ordeal is treated as HILARIOUS.

It’s not like he mEaNt to embarrass you, Marinette!!!

Marinette didn’t meant to do a lot of things too but you don’t see the show giving her any slack.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir starts treating Alya/Rena Rouge with exactly as much 'respect' as he gives Ladybug -- which is to say, nothing but lip service paired with stunts like refusing to help unless she spills Ladybug's secrets. Alya naturally blames Marinette for this.

I’m torn on whether he’d “””respect her””” as much as Ladybug or give her even more respect, probably on the premise that “Ladybug chose her,” and that somehow proves that Chat Noir is a good guy in all this (while, again, disrespecting/not trusting Ladybug/making his own decisions at every corner).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir attempts to charm Alya/Rena Rouge into sharing Ladybug's secrets with him, possibly making Nino jealous in the process.

*sees “Rocketear” trailer*

oh no...

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get another 'Bad Future' episode centered on Sadrien; this time around, it features him losing the Ring, painting this popular plotline as a horrible idea because Adrien is Perfect and Never Does Anything Wrong, and should never be punished for his actions. No matter how it happens, Marinette is blamed for it; bonus if somebody angrily tells her that SHE should have lost HER Miraculous instead.

Wouldn’t be surprised, but that would also mean making a new model of a cat hero.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: It's revealed that part of the reason Alix/Bunnix refuses to share any 'Spoilers' about how the future is 'meant to go' is because Marinette Suffers Incredibly in the process, and Alix knows that she'd try to find some other way... and assumes that she'd fail in the process. This is treated as entirely valid and Marinette, if she learns that this is part why Bunnix won't tell her shit, has to accept that she's just doomed to be Fate's personal punching bag. Sucks to be her!

It’s “meant to be.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette/Ladybug is told outright that she's a horrible person for not respecting Chat Noir's feelings for her. Bonus points if it's Alya, citing Mari's crush on Adrien as proof that she should know how it feels to constantly fail at getting your crush's attention. (Alternately, Adrien venting to her about how *unfair* it is that Ladybug's so cruel to her partner, unaware of the dramatic irony.) Triple-7 Jackpot of Shit if this contributes to the RLBS becoming a thing.

UGGGGGH.

And of course Chat Noir wouldn’t get the same treament and it’ll be like, “WELL ADRIEN DOESN’T kNoW sO--”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Instead of Lila, Chloe is revealed to be the next holder of the Butterfly Miraculous. This shows Chloe as "irredeemable" while successfully writing Lila out of the show.

Meanwhile, the writers’ script is frantically scribbled on with red marker.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Reveal that post about Lila being future Hawkmoth was Red Herring (or in this case orange herring)

Dumb herring.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need a burrow;

By the end of the series, Gabriel will have a redemption arc to feel sympathy for him :o

guys he’s so sad don’t you see--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien's inability to choose between the 'love of his life' and the abusive shitbag excuse of a sire who'd just smacked him like a ping-pong ball foreshadows that he will ultimate choose Gabriel after learning that he's Hawk/Shadowmoth. This will be entirely blamed on Marinette not being able to keep him by her side because 'she didn't love/cherish/appreciate him enough'!

After “Guiltrip” and the whole, “I don’t say this enough--” line, I’d buy it and now I’m sad.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The RLBS is kicked off by Chat Noir switching sides and joining Hawk/Shadowmoth. Ladybug is forced to appeal to Chat's 'love' for her, with Alya, Tikki, and various other 'friends'/allies blaming her for his defection. Meanwhile, Sadrien starts pursuing Marinette as an outlet for his mangst, 'unintentionally' making her more miserably conflicted in the process.

She rejected him and therefore he’s in his right to switch sides. She never even gave him a chance!!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien is a Sentimonster/was created by other Miraculous magic by the Agrestes, who desired a 'perfect/model son'. This is used to further the narrative that his entitlement is actually a Good Thing: Adrien was not MEANT to have any wants/needs/desires of his own, but mysteriously developed them anyway. Thus Marinette NEEDS to cater to his every whim because it's sO mIrAcUlOuS that he HAS them in the first place. Hooray...?

His very EXISTENCE is MIRACULOUS, Marinette!!!

Also, Astruc will act like this was amazingly foreshadowed in “Ladybug” where Ladybug comments on Sentibug’s perfection.and with Astruc always called Adrien perfect (either on his own or through other characters).

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Another Shocking Familial Connection is revealed: Felix is not Adrien's cousin, but Gabriel and Emilie's original son, whom they shunted off on her sister and replaced with the 'perfect' Adrien. 50-50 split on whether this is used to excuse all of Felix's shitty behavior or if he's demonized further -- 'See, THIS is why they replaced him! ANYONE would choose the Perfect Adrien over someone like THAT!'

Why not both????

It’s like the Chloe-Zoe situation but male.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: After learning that Rena Rouge has become Ladybug's confidant, Chat Noir outright REFUSES to help at a critical moment, sneering about how 'you ladies CLEARLY don't need me'. As with everything else, the blame for his latest stunt is laid neatly at Marinette's feet, because Adrien is never EVER responsible for his own actions.

They’ll probably blame Marinette because Ladybug “didn’t tell him right away.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Circumstances force Adrien to be Mr. Bug again (since they already have the models). Much is milked from how HAAAAAAAARRRRD his temporary responsibilities are on him, and he reiterates afterwards how happy he is that he doesn't have to deal with that all the time. No actual sympathy for Ladybug's situation is displayed, though stans treat it as such; what we're actually SHOWN is that Adrien only cares about the burden when HE'S the one stuck carrying it.

As per usual, no one cares about Marinette’s problems until it directly affects THEM, and then they’ll go back to not caring.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: With all of the other abusive behavior Adrien has shown towards Ladybug, it's only a matter of time before we get a 'Why did you make me hit you?' moment. No akuma influence; just him physically lashing out at her because he's an entitled little shit upset over not getting his way, followed by the inevitable bleating about how bad HE feels and how he'll 'never do it again'. Naturally, this is presented as though Marinette 'deserved it' and must accept his apology.

Show, don’t do this to me, I swear--

I’d be surprised if this did happen, but more because it’s like wow the lack of self-awareness is even worse than I thought.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get a Very Special Episode about sexual harassment... which not only refuses to acknowledge Adrien's behavior as such, but asserts that he would NEVER touch 'his lady' in any kind of inappropriate fashion. Bonus: he harasses her in that very same episode to 'prove' that his behavior isn't inappropriate.

So “Felix” but worse...

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: The reason why ML Writers made Zoe an actress is to justify why she managed to recognize that Lila is "Liar that lies" instantly after meeting her.

Waiting for the moment where Zoe talks to Marinette to address Marinette “acting like she’s not in love with Adrien.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Lila steals the Fox Pendant from Alya/does something that affects her *personally*. Alya then reads Marinette the riot act, demanding to know "Why didn't you WARN ME about her?!" (None of the times that she DID count because Alya dismissed them as her 'just being jealous', which is, of course, entirely Mari's fault.) Bonus if we allude back to her claiming that 'good reporters do their research' and how she expected MARI to provide her her with proof of her claims.

Marinette: *thousand yard stare*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: When Lila is exposed, Marinette gets blamed for all the harm she caused with her various deceptions, since she tried to warn others and couldn't convince anyone of the truth. Adrien 'taking the high road' is largely glossed over; if anyone finds out that HE knew too and never did anything to warn anyone, he's quickly forgiven for 'not knowing any better'.

See, Marinette, if you just hadn’t tRiEd--

And Adrien was just trying to “be nice to everyone equally” so he’s forgiven.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir outright admits that he dislikes Rena/the other heroes being around since they make him feel unnecessary. This is treated as a perfectly reasonable and valid complaint rather than a slacker piss-moaning about being shown up by others making actual EFFORT.

*flashbacks to “You’re not trying to replace me with a turtle, are you?” after Carapace shows up LITERALLY ONCE*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get a retread of the NYC Special's Angstrian when he accidentally ('accidentally?') Cataclysms Rena/somebody else. Bonus if the victim once again argues that THEIR experiences/trauma are FAR less important than his. (Especially if it's Alya, Nino, Max... somebody who ALSO happens to be a character of color temporarily killed off to make the spoiled white rich brat feel sorry for himself.)

It’s an accident and also probably “Ladybug’s fault.”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir skips an akuma attack/shows up late to find it was resolved without him, and mopes about how 'his lady doesn't need him anymore', requiring somebody else to massage his ego. Bonus points if somebody (likely Ladybug) is demonized for getting annoyed at him for being late/a no-show, because HOW DARE they take defending Paris seriously?!

Well excuse us, Chat, next time we’ll just awkwardly stall for twenty minutes.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir will 'accidentally' Cataclysm one of the protective Charms so that its holder can be akumatized again. Bonus if he does this to Alya/one of the other heroes.

Probably Chloe.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The protective charms are ultimately rendered effectively pointless when Adrien switches sides and starts using his powers to destroy them. Naturally, Marinette is held completely responsible for his actions, because God FORBID he ever be called to account for himself. Not when his 'partner' is around to absorb all the blame.

You didn’t make him feel loVeD, Marinette.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien pulls a Chloe with his own attempt at engineered heroics, putting the lives of others on the line to 'prove his value'. Ladybug is completely blamed for the stunt; bonus if someone accuses her of 'not learning anything' from what happened with Chloe.

Hate it. Hate it a lot.

We already got him trying to cause/hoping for akuma, so this isn’t too far off.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien gives Zoe better advice for dealing with her bullies. His policy for handling Chloe and Lila remains the same as ever. (In other words, only Marinette has to 'be the better person' and keep suffering at the hands of her abusers, since it maintains his preferred status quo. But it's no skin off his nose if Zoe's situation changes/improves.)

I also imagine that Adrien would give this advice without Marinette onscreen, so Adrien won’t be called out on it.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Alya will reveal Marinette’s identity to someone (possibly Nino) and the show will then punish Marinette for trusting Alya in the first place. Bonus point if the show then says she should have trusted Adrien/Chat Noir because he would never have betrayed her trust.

I’m just remembering the fandom’s complaints and wow I hate it.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Ladybug Miraculous basically change into Poor man's version of Green Lantern's Ring

*stares at the phone in “Optigami” that somehow picks up on the kwamis’ voices* hm

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette will look through the future and see one where she and Luka get together, except it’s portrayed as bad and abusive, more so if he knows her secret identity, and the only way for her to escape it is by getting with Chat Noir(and not...you know, anybody else. Or being single. Or MAKING THE RELATIONSHIP WORK!!!). Chat Noir sees it too, and gloat about in her face, since it proved that they were “meant for each other, m’lady!” Bonus points if someone calls Thomas Ass Truck out on this shit, and he either replies that it was the best thing to do, claims it doesn’t matter how Lukanette is treated/the love square ends up together because they’re “made for each other” anyway, or even tries to pass it off as “girl power”, because how could we let the female lead get with the respe—oops, I mean abusive guy over the one who treats her te—oops, I mean respectfully and like a “gentleman” would?! And then he’ll follow up by blocking them for daring to question the Ridiculous Relationship Rhombus and respect the “non-endgame” ship. Even wor—oops! I mean, better, if love square shippers use this opportunity to gloat about how “I always knew Adrien and Marinette(notice how they always place his name first?!) were perfect for each other, Luka wasn’t good enough for Marinette, take that, Lukanette shippers!” declaring it “anti-salt”.

bfgkdjfgdfg god

Also, the only problem with this idea is that it would mean making an adult model for Luka.

Bonus if another “disadvantage” to Marinette dating Luka is that Luka isn’t high class.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be told outright to 'Get over yourself' and stop bringing up valid complaints about Chat Noir's shitty behavior, as the series becomes increasingly overt with its subtext about how one of Marinette's Biggest Mistakes is having STANDARDS.

Ignoring that Luka exists, of course, and if it’s mentioned that Luka exists then cue, “OH BUT SHE DOESN’T AAAACTUALLY LOVE LUKA.”

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need Burrow: SentiWiFi (Lady WiFi Sentimonster)

SentiEveryone at this point...

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Nino is again robbed of screentime by Sentimonster based on him.

*sees “Sentibubbler” title and trailer*

Did--did you predict the future??

...I mean, we’ve been doing that the whole time, but damn.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will continue shoving Marinette towards Adrien, then mockingly ask 'Didn't you want to give romance a break?' or something along those lines. Showing that not only is she fully aware of Marinette's wishes and doesn't give a damn, but implicitly blaming Marinette for her inability to stick to them, despite how SHE is the one forcing the issue.

“We all know that you WANT HIM, Marinette! Stop denying yourself!!!”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: When Marinette gets a spot of hope regarding her relationship woes, Alya leaps in to take all the credit for the apparent success. Once the light turns out to be an incoming Drama Train that blindsides Marinette and leaves her humiliated and heartbroken, Alya insists that it's entirely MARI's fault that things went off the rails.

Waiting for a line from Alya about how she’s doing everything right and Marinette must be really hopeless if Alya’s schemes aren’t working...

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya and Nino will get into a bit of Relationship Drama in order to further reinforce the series' double standards. (Such as 'It's OK for boys to lie, but girls shouldn't have any secrets.' Or 'Boys can hold grudges, but girls must forgive every trespass.' Or 'Girls shouldn't told boys to impossible standards like expecting to be treated with basic human decency.') Bonus points if Marinette gets blamed for it.

Yup.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The subtext about Marinette not deserving a GOOD love interest is further emphasized by Kagami and Luka getting together. Kagami comments on how she can trust Luka not to lie to her; this is the closest she gets to explaining to Marinette WHY she broke things off with Adrien in the first place. After all, it doesn't matter if Adrien lies to Marinette; they're 'meant for each other'.

I’m still not over Kagami saying that the guy who lied to her is “made for” her only friend????

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe learns a valuable lesson about the importance of Being Herself with Luka's help, teasing the idea of the two of them getting together.

“Bonus” for Marinette saying that Zoe and Luka are made for each other.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat Noir deliberately strings Vesperia along in a ploy to make Ladybug jealous. Zoe is naturally heartbroken when she learns the truth. Her pain is blamed entirely on Marinette, since Adrien can NEVER be held accountable for his own actions.

Ladybug, you should’ve seen this coming!!

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow (kinda?), Astruc apparently is aware that his perfect Adrien is flawed as Chat Noir (he said so on twitter), and I fear that if anyone ever asks him why the two sides of Adrien so different, he'll reveal that the cat miraculous changes the holder's personality or some shit, which will cause "Anti Adrien Salt" to explode, screaming "the salter's claims aren't valid anymore, it's not Adrien's fault, it's the miraculous!!!1!!111!!!!¡¡!¡¡¡!!!"

I feel like he denied that back when he still had a Tumblr but gosh I’m just waiting for it to be confirmed because FANON THEORIES.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien gets a taste of what Marinette goes through constantly when he/Chat Noir suffers a bit of minor humiliation over his crush. His pain and angst over this is played DEAD SERIOUS, treated as though he's suffering through the WORST THING EVER even though whatever happened pales in comparison to what Marinette has endured. Anyone who dares so much as chuckle at what happened is villainized, since only a MONSTER would find his suffering funny.

I’m seething.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Return of Sentibug (for fanservice)

Bonus if they kill her off again. Something something “only one Ladybug” something.

neyla9 asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: So if Zoe gets sent to a new boarding school after being in Paris for a few months (there is a chance the writers will just completely ignore that this was established in Sole Crusher, in which case this probably won't happen), I predict that Zoe was brought in specifically to redeem Chloe, rubbing it in Marinette's face that she failed at redeeming Chloe, and force Marinette to give Chloe the bee miraculous back

Most likely. Apparently needed to bring someone else in to make Marinette feel worse.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien abandons/ditches his responsibilities as a hero because he's too busy sulking over his ego being bruised by some slight (real or imagined). Marinette is naturally blamed for this.

Oh, of course!

Marinette probably had to be late for patrol so he was intentionally late for something, and then was like well you did it to me, so--

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe will get another tiresome 'Will she or won't she be redeemed?' arc, only to backstab/betray everyone again. Astruc will preen and croon on social media about how gullible anyone that thinks she could ever be redeemable is. Bonus points if Chloe's damning act that proves she's unsalvageable is something ADRIEN has done.

Meanwhile, Nino is back here absolutely collecting DUST!!!

I guess you gotta be a horrible person/make Marinette suffer to get screen time.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe will discover Vesperia's secret identity and steal the Bee Miraculous, then spitefully out Zoe so that SHE can't be a heroine anymore.

Marinette is running out of teens at this point but finding new ones would mean more models.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe is used to teach Marinette that she's too harsh on others for lying, and should accept that they can be dishonest sometimes. (Especially Adrien.) As a natural follow-up, Marinette is blamed/punished for falling for a friend's lies -- because CLEARLY it's not Alya/Adrien/anyone else's fault if she believes their bullshit!

No one’s perfect, Marinette! People are human!!

...Except you, of course.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Despite the incident with SentiNino, Shadow Moth will *successfully* obtain a miraculous by using the same trick. Bonus points if it's Marinette/Ladybug who falls for it... though really, she'll be blamed regardless.

Double bonus if she doesn’t fall for it but it still goes through.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The 'Shocking Twist' of Adrien/Chat Noir betraying Team Miraculous and joining his father will be presented as though it's entirely Marinette/Ladybug's fault, with Adrien acting as though he Had No Choice and angsting about being 'forced' to betray his lady and friends. The series never acknowledges how self-serving his motives actually are, and any call-outs he gets are treated as Wrong and Awful and Blaming Poor Innocent Victim Adrien.

“hE’s jUsT tRyinG tO sAvE hIs mOm”

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: 'Borrowing' from many a Salt Fic, Marinette will thank her for 'proving who my *real* friends are'. This entails giving Adrien, Alya and possibly others credit for always standing by her, believing in her, and various other things that they never actually did.

I’m presuming “her” means “everyone”/”the girl squad” and yup.

Better tell than show I guess.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will be retconned into having 'never believed anything Lila said'. Or at least, she will CLAIM that she never believed her.

I WILL BE SO UPSET

Also prepared for them to handwave it, like, “oh whatever, now I’m helping you since I know so it’s all good!”

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need Burrow: Similarities between Luka and Zoe were only red herring. Zoe will become Kagami's new love interest (and Kagami and Zoe's dynamic will be suspiciously similar do Fanon!Marigami)

But that would imply they care enough about LGBT rep.

Though they could always pull a Voltron and slip it in at the very end.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will suffer the toll/backlash from using multiple Miraculi ONLY for the sake of making that her Latest Mistake. Her past successes are only acknowledged as a way of painting her as arrogant for assuming she could continue doing so safely.

She’ll probably be yelled at and told not to “keep doing everything herself” even though that’s what the narrative keeps telling her to do.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien discovers his father's secret identity and hides it... and this is painted as an act of incredible self-sacrifice rather than selfishness. Rather than treating it as a betrayal of Ladybug/Team Miraculous, the series focuses on his angst and 'inner struggle', pretending there's something heroic about him refusing to expose Hawkmoth and potentially put an end to his terrorizing Paris.

Deep breaths, Clarity.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: Alya will get to keep her boyfriend despite her being involved with the miraculous box n stuff, unlike Marinette. Why, you ask? Easy, the bond between Luka and Mari just isn't sTrOnG eNoUgH for them to last through difficult times, like Alya and Nino do so easily.

Ignoring that Marinette and Luka only just got together and also that Marinette has it WAY different than Alya.

But no I guess. Adrien and Marinette are “made for each other” so gotta discredit Lukanette whenever. Marinette isn’t allowed to be happy, we know.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: The one time Marinette gets a break from akumas and her responsibilities all hell breaks loose and the lesson for that episode will be that Marinette and Marinette alone must carry the burden of being Ladybug and Guardian.

Marinette: *gets five minutes of sleep*

Paris: *catches on fire*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow (Can I do two at once?): "Crocoduel" will not acknowledge the Lukanette breakup at all, and the titular Akuma will just be Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock again.

(You’re allowed two, absolutely!)

I’d like to add as well that, even if they do acknowledge the Lukanette breakup, Marinette will talk to Luka about it but then be like, “I’m not focusing on love right now and I’m too busy so I’m sorry for everything that happened,” even as everyone keeps pushing for the love square.

#category: salt #Didn't Need Burrow #other: ask and answer #((This was supposed to come out earlier but I've been SUPER nauseous lately.))

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