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awfcspencer · 2 months

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Jealous || jennifer hermoso x reader

prompt: Post-match sex when Jenni gets a bit jealous

warnings: mdni 18+ only, smut, fingering, praise kink, strap-on, oral, begging

Football could sometimes be a very boring sport, players running up and down the field passing and chasing a small ball. It could be a very meticulous and repetitive event, but there was simply nothing boring about watching your girlfriend Jenni play. Whether it was for her club team or national team, if Jenni was playing, you were there watching. Any time you got the chance to gawk at your sweaty girlfriend in a tight kit and even tighter shorts, you would always be in attendance.

Maybe it was the way the raven-haired forward would use the end of her kit to wipe the thin layer of sweat that had formed on her head, which would ultimately showcase her rock-hard abs, much to your satisfaction. Maybe it was the tough demeanor she held on the pitch that flaunted her dominance, her sort of stone-cold persona, but as soon as she spotted you in the stadium, she sent you a cheeky smile accompanied by a seductive wink. Or maybe it was the thoughts that fluttered through your brain when you saw her take a risky tackle and then tried to plead her innocence to the ref, then after she turned her back, she would have a devilish, cocky grin slapped on her face. You weren’t exactly sure what specifically it was, possibly a combination of everything, but watching your girlfriend play was hot.

It got you worked up in a way you couldn’t necessarily explain but all you knew was that as soon as the final whistle blew, you needed to find her. Spain had beaten the Netherlands with Jenni slotting the back of the net in the first half. Sex with Jenni was great, sex with Jenni post-match where Spain had won was a whirlwind. Sex with Jenni where not only Spain had won but she also played an outstanding game and had a goal written with her name on it, you were in for a treat. The excitement that bubbled in you thinking about returning to the hotel room and letting Jenni have her way with you was almost too much.

Before you had managed to find her, you had ran into Ona, a national teammate of Jenni’s who you had come to get to know and adore. You also knew Ona had a little crush on one of your friends that the brunette had met at your birthday celebration a few months back. Your friend confided in you a few short days later that she returned the same feelings, so you were playing a little game of matchmaker with the pair, acting as sort of a wingman for both of them.

“What a lovely game Ona!”

Meeting the defender in a congratulatory hug, the two of you briefly spoke about the match and then quickly turned to discussing Ona’s next step in winning over your friend’s heart.

Ona was a bit touchier than Jenni liked as she watched the interaction between the two of you like a hawk. She didn’t like the way your initial hug had lasted a few seconds too long. She didn’t like the way Ona seemed to brush your bicep when you had made a funny comment. She certainly didn’t like how close the pair of you were standing near each other, almost close enough to whisper your conversation even in the still semi-filled stadium. Her final nerve struck was the big eyes Ona had as the two of you conversed, a sort of look of intensity or Jenni’s worst fear, lust. You were supposed to find her after the game, not Ona.

You could feel Jenni’s glaring eyes beaming into the side of your head from a few feet over as she talked to a few of her teammates. When you occasionally peeked over at your girlfriend, you could tell her jaw was tense almost as if she was upset at something. She had played a great game so it certainly couldn’t be the game, and she hadn’t mentioned anything to you before so your mind wracked on what she could possibly be upset about. And then it hit you, or should you say touched you as Ona’s fingers found your chest pushing your backwards when you made a funny comment about a possible date idea. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jenni’s shoulders tense upwards, and her face became stern. Jenni was jealous.

So it was no surprise when two strong, tattooed arms wrapped around your waist and harshly pulled your body closer to hers. Her lips grazed your neck as you tried to pay her no attention, zeroing in on the conversation you were having with the defender. When you had finally finished, you turned towards Jenni and kissed her. It was a more intense kiss than you were initially expecting, stepping backwards a few steps when Jenni’s lips came crashing intently into yours.

“Well hello there. Lovely game mi amor.”

Jenni knew she was inherently good at the sport, she had this undeniable confidence about her on and off the pitch.

“Yeah it was a good game huh.” Shrugging her shoulders as if it was just another day at work for her. Her nostrils were flared, and her lips were pressed together in a firm line.

“Until you decided to act like a needy slut. Do I not give you enough attention?” She whispered in your ear and left, walking towards the changing rooms leaving you speechless in the middle of the pitch. You shuttered at the thought the last time you had Jenni remind you who you belonged to.

You hadn’t meant to intentionally piss her off. I mean you’d definitely played into it more than you should have, but the interaction between you and Ona was strictly friendly. Hell, you were trying to set her up with your friend. But Jenni did not see it that way. Before you could turn to describe your side of the story as you arrived outside her hotel room door, she roughly pushed your body flush back against the frame and began leaving dark, red marks down your neck. She swiftly used her other hand to unlock the door, leaving you to stumble backwards into the room when the door opened as Jenni’s lips never left yours. Her hands were all over your body, snaking her arms around your waist to bring your closer.

Once inside, Jenni’s large hands were immediately on your chest removing the kit that sported her number, her lips working on the tender skin of your neck after she had the article of clothing off. She ran her tongue over the faded marks of last week’s post-match celebration, humming to herself at her work. In one sudden motion, she ripped the black lacy lingerie top you had worn incase tonight would be a celebrated one and pushed you backwards onto the bed.

“Jenni I just purchased that.”

Instead of your girlfriend responding, her tongue instead found your chest, encasing each of your nipples in the warmness of her mouth. The skilled forward helped you shimmy out of your bottom layer. She covered the side of your neck in hungry kisses and licks, trailing them behind your ear and down your jaw. Your hands found the band of Jenni’s short, playing with the hem. Jenni was stationed between your legs, one thigh aligned directly with your core. You brushed against her to feel some sort of friction.

“Behave, I wouldn’t want to punish you now.” She instead took her time removing each piece of clothing and then watched as your dark, hooded eyes waited for her to touch you again.

“Jenni please do something. Touch me please. Fuck me please.”

“You needy little thing. Do you think you deserve my attention? After the show you put on?”

Right as you began to speak about how you had no intentions with Ona, Jenni’s two middle fingers were forcefully pushed into your mouth to the back of your throat causing you to gag, not allowing any real words to form from your mouth, just incoherent mumbles along with drool to fall from the corner of your mouth. You sucked on them intently, coating them with your saliva.

“Much better. You look so pretty with my fingers in your mouth.”

She ushered her body lower onto the bed and spread your thighs wide. “Mine” she said before she connected her lips to the inside of your thighs, her nails digging into your flesh on either side of your quads.

“Good god, you’re dripping and making a mess everywhere like a slut. Let me clean you up.”

She ran her tongue along your lips and slit before attaching them to your awaiting clit. Her fingers traced along your hips pushing them back down onto the mattress when you involuntary bucked upwards after her tongue jutted into your hole.

“Oh, fuck Jenni,” you groaned, head thrown back onto the pillows as Jenni’s first finger plunged inside you after collecting your wetness.

She made fast work of opening you up, making sure to hit every inch of your walls, skillfully knowing your body like the back of her hand. Knowing what places made you squirm more, and which places were particularly sensitive. You’re swollen and puffy already, her fingers slip through a flood of wetness and slide inside.

“Mine.” Jenni continued to say in-between laps at your cunt, reminding you just who you belonged to.

Jenni then lied flush on the bed with her head between your thighs as your legs were placed on her shoulders, her mouth attached to your hot cunt and her fingers toying with your aching nipples. The sounds leaving your mouth were desperate. She licked a long strip from your slit to your swollen clit and occasionally slipping back inside to tease your dripping hole. Your soft little moans becoming more and more desperate as you come close to the edge.

“Can’t- Can’t hold on any longer, please Jenni.”

Instead of guiding you through a release, she simply drew away causing your head to immediately peer up and watch her. She rummaged through her suitcase, finding the strap she had brought and hastily harnessed herself in. Her chin still soaked from the wetness leaking from your cunt when she looked back at you.

“Jen,” you started as she made her way back onto the bed. You were already sensitive and teetering on the edge of release. Your hips jerked and thighs twitched for something, anything to ease the throbbing arousal between your legs.

She rubbed the strap just barely up and down over your pussy, teasing your entrance slightly as you sprang upwards. A string of needy, filthy noises leaving your mouth.

“Just one more. Can you hold on for me?”

You whimpered into her ear as she leaned down to kiss and bite at your jaw and neck.

“Use your words baby,” she whispered into your ear to make you whine and plead more.

“J- Jenni, please.”

“Eager girl,” she cooed as she rubbed her index finger on your clit in quick, small circles. “So needy for my cock, aren’t you.”

“Yes, yes Jenni.” You looked up at her with glistening, pleading eyes.

In one sudden motion, her cock was buried deep inside of you as she gripped onto your hips, filling you to the brim. Her pace was fast and rough. You could feel every single inch of her along your walls. A guttural moan fell out of your mouth, spurring the forward on. Your white knuckles clutched onto the sheets to gain some sort of control over the growing ache.

“Take it just like that. Who fills you like this? Who makes you feel like this?”

“You Jenni, only you. Fuck,” you managed to moan out. She cannot stop hitting the one spot she knows makes you shiver under her.

“Good girl. Remember that,” she praised.

Jenni bucked her hips into you causing her cock to move inside you and your thighs to pound against hers. Her teeth bit on your bottom lip as you let out small whines and your body desired a release. Her strong forearms hovered over you, her temple pressed against yours as she continued to slam into you. Her lips were right next to your ear, and you could hear her pant as she thrusted into you.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Fuck, you hear that? I love how wet you get for me.”

Everything is so warm and hot, the only sounds heard of your wet cunt being pounded into. It was like a little bubble the two of you were in and Jenni wanted to make you feel good. You placed your hands on her broad shoulders and your legs wrap around her waist to let her thrust deeper.

With every hitched breath and moan, she can tell that you were going to fall apart for her. She takes the opportunity to slide her hand over your cunt, ghosting her thumb over your clit.

“I love seeing you like this, being such a good girl for me.”

Your fingers thread through her hair as her hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you stationed as you begin to shake. Your breathes come out strangled and your eyes are bleary and unfocused. Your close to crying, you’re desperate for a release. The tears cling to your eyelashes and your voice cracks.

“Please Jen. I’ve been good.”

“Come for me, baby. You’ve been so good for me.”

She loves the way your legs shake around her when you’re about to come. She watches your eyes roll back as she slams her strap into you. She takes her one hand and presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in place while she uses the other to circle your clit with her thumb as you come all over her cock.

You shutter under her as she guides you through your orgasm, leaving small, soft kisses on your chest as you ride out your high. She eventually pulls out when you come down and become increasingly sensitive, unhooking the harness from her waist and making quick work of wetting a warm towel and returning back to you.

She carefully cleaned you up with careful swipes, ushering out sweet nothings while you regulated your breathing. She discarded the towel and dressed herself in a comfy pair of joggers and a sports bra. She grabbed a water and a granola bar from her kit bag along with an oversized top and new pair on underwear for you.

“Feeling okay baby?” She asked as she assisted in dressing you, grabbing the comforter and placing it over both of your bodies.

“Amazing baby.” Sealing your words with a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.

There was a wave of silence that fell over the hotel room, the pair of you cuddling further into each other’s bodies, Jenni rubbing small circles on your back.

“You know Ona is interested in my friend right? The one from my birthday celebration. I was talking to her about setting them up.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to,” you laughed, “Remember? You put your fingers in my mouth when I tried to explain.”

“Oh.” Her mouth was slightly ajar as her brain worked through the interaction, realizing she had maybe overacted.

“Oh is right. But I don’t mind you reminding me just who I belong to Jen.” You shifted your body closer to hers as she kissed the top of your head.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #jennifer hermoso #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #jennifer hermoso x reader #woso soccer #woso #woso blurbs #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso smut

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haggishlyhagging · 7 months

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The more women are paid, the less eager they are to marry. A 1982 study of three thousand singles found that women earning high incomes are almost twice as likely to want to remain unwed as women earning low incomes. "What is going to happen to marriage and childbearing in a society where women really have equality?" Princeton demographer Charles Westoff wondered in the Wall Street Journal in 1986. "The more economically independent women are, the less attractive marriage becomes."

Men in the '80s, on the other hand, were a little more anxious to marry than the press accounts let on. Single men far outnumbered women in dating services, matchmaking clubs, and the personals columns, all of which enjoyed explosive growth in the decade. In the mid-80s, video dating services were complaining of a three-to-one male-to-female sex ratio in their membership rolls. In fact, it had become common practice for dating services to admit single women at heavily reduced rates, even free memberships, in hopes of remedying the imbalance.

Personal ads were similarly lopsided. In an analysis of 1,200 ads in 1988, sociologist Theresa Montini found that most were placed by thirty-five-year-old heterosexual men and the vast majority "wanted a long-term relationship." Dating service directors reported that the majority of men they counseled were seeking spouses, not dates. When Great Expectations, the nation's largest dating service, surveyed its members in 1988, it found that 93 percent of the men wanted, within one year, to have either "a commitment with one person" or marriage. Only 7 percent of the men said they were seeking "lots of dates with different people." Asked to describe "what concerns you the day after you had sex with a new partner," only 9 percent of the men checked "Was I good?" while 42 percent said they were wondering whether it could lead to a "committed relationship."

These men had good cause to pursue nuptials; if there's one pattern that psychological studies have established, it's that the institution of marriage has an overwhelmingly salutary effect on men's mental health. "Being married," the prominent government demographer Paul Glick once estimated, "is about twice as advantageous to men as to women in terms of continued survival." Or, as family sociologist Jessie Bernard wrote in 1972:

“There are few findings more consistent, less equivocal, [and] more convincing, than the sometimes spectacular and always impressive superiority on almost every index—demographic, psychological, or social—of married over never-married men. Despite all the jokes about marriage in which men indulge, all the complaints they lodge against it, it is one of the greatest boons of their sex.”

Bernard's observation still applies. As Ronald C. Kessler, who tracks changes in men's mental health at the University of Michigan's Institute for Social Research, says: "All this business about how hard it is to be a single woman doesn't make much sense when you look at what's really going on. It's single men who have the worst of it. When men marry, their mental health massively increases."

The mental health data, chronicled in dozens of studies that have looked at marital differences in the last forty years, are consistent and overwhelming: The suicide rate of single men is twice as high as that of married men. Single men suffer from nearly twice as many severe neurotic symptoms and are far more susceptible to nervous breakdowns, depression, even nightmares. And despite the all-American image of the carefree single cowboy, in reality bachelors are far more likely to be morose, passive, and phobic than married men.

When contrasted with single women, unwed men fared no better in mental health studies. Single men suffer from twice as many mental health impairments as single women; they are more depressed, more passive, more likely to experience nervous breakdowns and all the designated symptoms of psychological distress—from fainting to insomnia. In one study, one third of the single men scored high for severe neurotic symptoms; only 4 percent of the single women did.

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

#susan faludi #heterosexuality #amerika #male fragility #marriage #male mental health

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chiptrillino · 1 month

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All I saw what the art of the Blue Spirit (Dark Water Spirit?) from your blog (was it you who made it? its fucking fantastic) and Ive lost my mind. I wanna know all about your crincly blue dude. pls. they look amazing. i need to know more

hahah yes i drew the blue spirit based on the fan theory that koh stole his face. LINK

i know that like the only similarities are like the thicker eyebrows, tusk (although upside down) and a stronger nose and well.. that they are BLUE.

thank you for liking my crinkly version so much. i have some drawings planed for him but i can't like pick what he wears on a daily basis hahah (or nocturnal)

some short points about my version of him: (one day kuruk will get his own book and all of this is pointless but i don't care these are my headcanons and don't have to be true!)

He belongs to Tui and La's court. He is a water spirit, kind of the same rank as the painted lady, but not tied to one single river. If the Spirits of the Moon and Ocean give a command, he follows. (Not like the fish command much)

he is OLD! Which is why he is featured in the Love Among the Dragons and Earth Kingdom opera plays. (He is probably a gigantic romantic sap and can't help himself but play matchmaker) contrary to popular belive. No he can't turn spirits mortal, but he sure can kick their asses out the spirit world. And the dragon emperor deserved it! No clue what the empress saw in that guy)

if he was born a spirit or made a spirit is rather unclear because he regularly invents a new origin story for himself. "Oh i was a poor fisherman that caught a withe fish, and then the ocean roared and drowned me, because i accidentally caught the moon. And as an apology, they turned me immortal", "i was an earth bender that was born way too close to water", "My mom is a dragon, and my father is a water serpent. Yeah, I don't imagine how they did conceive me... " "you see that water whirlpool there? Thats where i jumped out of!"

he travels a lot. Dissolves into rivers to reform in another place in an instant. He has a big soft spot for humans, especially children. He lives for how creative they are in the way they play, turn the night into days, and danger into fun.

He is a bit up sad over being used as a tool to cause fear in kids to be careful around deep waters, though.

There is this uneasy feeling you get when looking into deep, dark waters. But it's not something evil. He is a warning that, as fun as water can get, there is danger in it.

i like to give him a bigger role with avatar Kuruk. During the time Kuruk distanced himself from his friends and kept on fighting on his own spirits, corrupting and deterioating his spirit and health. Blue popped up. Kuruk saw him first like all the other spririts only with time reluncantly accepting him as an ally.

Blue is on Kuruk's side when they try to retrieve Umi's face from Koh. He loses the fight and gets his face stolen in the process. Since then, the dark water spirits had existed in plays and occasionally as a cover for a fire nation prince to cause mischief.

he never got along with Koh. Their views on humans are different. Also blue usually being in the way of koh.

blue: bitch with mommy issues!

koh in tears: At least i have a mom!

#chip!ask #koh #scruncly blue guy #and yeha kuruk and he had as well a thing going but kuruk won't ever talk about it #or invite umi over....

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kams-corner · 4 months

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Lia Wälti Recommendations

[disclaimer: i did not write any of the stories in these masterlists, full credit goes to the respective authors]

Key: *fluff, **angst, ***smut

* invisible strings - oneshot you and lia have floated around each others lives for a while- being friends, of friends, until one day you finally see each other.

* drama free - oneshot lia's just gotten out of a relationship and jen and leah want to play matchmaker

* christmas cooking - oneshot you and lia do some christmas cooking

* dinner - oneshot it all began with a dinner

* ultimate wag - oneshot you're a rockstar in your wag era

* what she doesn't know won't hurt - oneshot you and lia get a dog and decide not to tell the team yet

* falling for mccabe - oneshot you and lia get to gether and katie and caitlin find out

* | ** overprotective - oneshot you and lia play against each other at the world cup

* smokey - oneshot you're a football player, adventurous and you work for the National Park Service

* | ** bees land on the prettiest flowers - oneshot it's basically like the bridgerton storyline with the bees Trigger Warnings: mention of familial death

* cowgirl's got my heart - oneshot you go with lia to the concert with the arsenal girls

* soulmates - oneshot you and lia were always meant to be

#lia walti #lia wälti #lia walti x reader #lia walti imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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starrvsn · 7 months

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☆ going public on national boyfriend day

with urban wyatt and jack harlow

liked by jackharlow, milomanheim, i4yn, neelamthadlani and others

ynmiller happy national boyfriend day to the man i call mine @‘jackharlow 🩶 thank you for making my life better and being the one to show me what true love looks like. i admire everything about you, youre hardworking and passionate in what you do and even though we aren’t together right now i just want you to know how much i love you darling 💞 pls come home i miss you and your cute smile !!!!

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jackharlow don't make me cry now sweetheart 🥹

i4yn this is so cute what

druski jus know i was the first choice

jackharlow @'druski no you were not man

lomljackman im so happy that jack found someone that loves him sm 🥹🥹

daydreaminyn why am i just hearing about this now ????!???

claybornharlow only y/n can say corny ass words and make it work

ynmiller @'claybornharlow the backhanded ass compliment >:^(

comments are limited

—

liked by urbanwyatt, lauraharrier, gardenofyneden and others

yneden happy national boyfriend day to my one and only @‘urbanwyatt 🤍 my forever smoke buddy and my biggest supporter thank you for being there for me whenever i need you and always showing me the most love. you always know what to say and know how to have the most fun !!! i don’t know how i go through most days without you and even though you’re sitting next to me while im writing this, i love you sweet cheeks <33

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urbanwyatt love you forever and always baby 🤞🏼

gardenofyneden sweet cheeks :''')

lomljackman couple of the century tbh

jackharlow TRAITOR

edensource eden and urban together ???? i can die in peace now

jackharlow i helped them get together yall, jus know that

urbanwyattupdates @'jackharlow LMAOO MATCHMAKER JACK ?????

sereneeden can't wait for the photo dump urbans gonna post of y/n now theyre official

comments are limited

star left a message! jus know that i put them in the same post just for the sake of it and i wanted to do something for my baes hence why the usernames for the reader are a bit different and urbans the reader goes by eden :)

make with love, star ♡

#i need to lay down after this #…is this my excuse to post a smau on boyfriends day ??#yes #i’ve never wrote anything so corny in my life #but i love how this came out hehe #jack harlow #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x you #jack harlow instagram au #jackman thomas harlow #urban wyatt #urban wyatt social media au #urban wyatt fluff #urban wyatt imagines

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 4 months

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“Forced marriage — in which one or both parties do not give full, free consent — is recognized globally as a form of modern slavery. My story is far from unique: Around the world, 22 million people were in a forced marriage as of 2021.

Yet, even though the United States acknowledges that forced marriage is a human rights abuse, few laws and policies are in place to prevent or punish it, and the nation has paid such scant attention to this issue that we do not even know how often forced marriage happens here.

What’s more, child marriage remains legal in most U.S. states, even though it is recognized as a form of forced marriage and a human rights abuse. Some 300,000 children were married in the U.S. between 2000 and 2018, mostly girls wed to adult men. At least 60,000 marriages occurred at an age or with a spousal age difference that should have been considered a sex crime.”

Note: The following essay contains descriptions of sexual assault and abuse.

They sent me off to be raped, with a party and a tube of K-Y Jelly.

The lubricant was to reduce the intense physical pain they explained I would endure while being penetrated by a stranger-turned-husband, without foreplay, without consent. Every month. Until death do us part.

The party — a low-budget wedding in 1995 at a Brooklyn venue aptly nicknamed Armpit Terrace — was to distract me from the horrific reality of my forced marriage to the stranger.

“Mazel tov!” they told me, beaming.

In the reclusive Orthodox Jewish community in New York City where I grew up, choices about whether, when and whom I would marry did not belong to me. At home and at the all-girls religious school I attended, where I learned to cook and sew and keep house, I was groomed from early childhood to expect a teen marriage to a stranger my family and a matchmaker would choose for me.

I was allowed to meet the stranger several times before my engagement, but I was not allowed to be alone with him nor to have any physical contact with him. I was a clueless 19-year-old who had never been allowed to “talk to a boy,” and suddenly I was given a matter of hours, over a period of a few weeks, to answer my family and his family and the matchmaker and everyone in the community standing there, tapping their feet, looking at their watches, waiting for me to tell them: You’ll marry this man we chose for you, right?

“No” was never really an option.

During my six-week engagement, I still was not allowed to be alone with the groom nor to have any physical contact with him, which left more time for me to begin experiencing the myriad other abuses that come with a forced marriage.

First, a virginity exam. The groom’s rabbi sent me to an Orthodox Jewish gynecologist, where I was instructed to disrobe, get on the examination table and put my feet in the stirrups. The doctor inserted her gloved fingers into my vagina and confirmed that my hymen was intact.

“Mazel tov!” she told me, beaming.

I attended one-on-one bridal classes, where the curriculum centered on the requirement that I have unprotected sex with my husband on my wedding night and on a monthly basis thereafter. A lifetime of rape.

Yes, the rapes probably would hurt, the bridal class teacher explained. Hence the K-Y Jelly.

“Mazel tov!” she told me, beaming.

My stranger-turned-husband turned out to be violent and abusive. I learned this exactly one week after our wedding, when he became enraged because he had woken up late, and he punched his fist through the wall — hard enough to leave a sizable hole.

His first threat to kill me came only days later. Soon these threats became more frequent, specific and gruesome. He was brimming with creative ideas for how he would end my life, and he took the time to describe them to me in vivid detail. A lifetime of fear.

Yet I was trapped.

My forced marital sex was carefully timed each month for when I was ovulating. The reason for this was obvious: My first child was born 11 months after my wedding, and soon I had a second child.

I love my daughters, but I did not consent to having them. A lifetime of forced parenthood.

This denial of sexual and reproductive rights was not the only shackle preventing me from leaving my marriage. My husband did not allow me to have my own bank account or credit card, and I was taught that, under Orthodox Jewish law, if my husband allowed me to work, any money I earned belonged to him. A lifetime of domestic servitude and financial dependence.

I had limited legal rights too. Under Orthodox Jewish law, only a man can grant a divorce. I, as a woman, did not have the legal right to end my own marriage. A lifetime of being locked in unwanted wedlock.

One escape route for me would have been to move back in with my family as an agunah, a “chained woman” who is bound to a husband who refuses her a divorce. The life of an agunah is brutal; she is shamed for her powerlessness, blamed for her failed marriage and treated as an outcast.

But even this dreadful escape route was closed to me, because my family refused to take me back in. A lifetime of betrayal.

So I remained trapped in my abusive forced marriage. In accordance with Orthodox Jewish law, I was considered “unclean” every time I menstruated. While I was “unclean,” I was prohibited from having physical contact with my husband, sleeping in the same bed as him, handing him anything or undressing or singing in front of him. A lifetime of shame.

Once my period ended, I needed to count seven “clean” days without any menstrual blood, during which time the rules against physical contact continued. To make sure I stayed “clean” for the full seven days, I was required to wear white panties and, twice a day, to insert a white cloth into my vagina, swish it around and inspect it in sunlight to make sure it did not have blood spots. If I found questionable marks on my panties and could not tell whether they were blood, the rabbi would inspect them and give his pronouncement.

And the rabbi would keep my panties. A lifetime of extreme patriarchy.

Each month, after the seven “clean” days, I was forced to strip naked in front of an attendant who watched me immerse in a mikvah, or a ritual bath of rainwater, which frequently left me with a yeast infection and always left me shaking uncontrollably. A lifetime of violation.

All I wanted, every time I left the mikvah, was to take a hot shower and scrub the violation off me. That was prohibited. Instead I was required to go home and have nonconsensual sex with the man who had spent the day describing to me in graphic detail how he was going to murder me. The man who would not let me close the door when I used the bathroom, because “what was I hiding from him in there?”

No matter. I had to get on the bed and spread my legs and forget what had happened to me at the mikvah and ignore the pain while I waited for him to finish, and I had to remind myself how lucky I was that he usually was done after only three or four thrusts. A lifetime straight out of Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale.”

Forced marriage — in which one or both parties do not give full, free consent — is recognized globally as a form of modern slavery. My story is far from unique: Around the world, 22 million people were in a forced marriage as of 2021.

My husband would regularly search through my personal belongings in front of me, including in the pockets of the clothing in my closet and in my bag of tampons under the bathroom sink. A lifetime of subjugation. When I finally realized at age 27 that I was the only person who would help me leave my abusive forced marriage alive and I decided I would secretly save up cash for my escape, I found the only safe hiding place in the house: a box of Whole Grain Total in the pantry.

I saved more than $40,000 in that cereal box over the next five years.

During those years I also defied my community and did something no one in my family had ever done: I became a college student. My husband forbade me from attending classes. I informed him, calmly, that nothing he did to me would stop me from getting my education.

And I did something no one I knew had ever done: I threw out the limp, ugly wig I was required to wear as a married woman to cover my own thick, healthy hair. I walked outside with my uncovered head held high — the equivalent, in that community, of walking outside naked.

My family retaliated immediately by shunning me. One of my sisters notified me that my family was planning to sit shiva — or observe the Jewish mourning ritual for me — as if I had literally died. I have had almost no contact with my family since that day. A lifetime of being dead.

But I graduated from Rutgers University (as commencement speaker, the equivalent of valedictorian) at age 32, and I escaped my abusive forced marriage on my own, with my daughters and my box of Total. I fled the Orthodox Jewish community too, and I rebuilt my life.

In 2011 I founded a nonprofit organization, Unchained At Last, to combat forced and child marriage in the U.S. through direct services and systems change.

The U.S. is one of 193 countries that agree forced and child marriage are harmful practices, particularly for women and girls, and have promised to eliminate these abuses by year 2030 to help achieve gender equality, under the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals. Yet the U.S. is not on track to keep its promise.

I refuse to accept this. Not after I escaped my lifetime of oppression.

We at Unchained are fighting back by providing crucial wraparound services to a long-ignored population: those who are fleeing an existing or impending forced marriage in the U.S. To date we have provided legal and social services, always for free, to nearly 1,000 individuals, to help give them a lifetime of dignity, safety and hope.

We also started a national movement to end child marriage. In the last few years, our groundbreaking research and relentless advocacy have allowed us to help change the law in 10 U.S. states to ban child marriage — a stunning victory for the 7.5 million girls who live in those 10 states — and we are working on the other 40.

A lifetime of preventing other lifetimes of rape.

“Mazel tov!” I now tell myself, beaming, with each triumphant step closer to ending forced and child marriage in the U.S.

Fraidy Reiss is a forced marriage survivor turned activist. She is the founder and executive director of Unchained At Last, a survivor-led nonprofit organization working to end forced and child marriage in the U.S. through direct services and systems change. Fraidy’s research and writing on forced and child marriage have been published extensively, making her one of the nation’s foremost experts on these abuses. She has been featured in books (including as one of the titular women in Hillary and Chelsea Clinton’s “The Book of Gutsy Women”), films and countless television, radio and print news stories.

Need help? Visit RAINN’s National Sexual Assault Online Hotline or the National Sexual Violence Resource Center’s website.

Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch.

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luxyue · 3 months

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knife boots — part ii.

xiao x reader, figure skating au

masterlist

➥ NEW VOCAB ❝ salchow ❞ one of the easiest jumps; taking off from a backwards outside edge it's generally the first jump you learn as you add more rotations !

ii. zhongli plays matchmaker

"fuck this shit. i give up."

"yeah, well, you've given up at least twenty times this session alone."

since meeting chongyun, he's introduced you to his friends, xingqiu and xiangling. xiangling often spends her time helping her dad in the kitchens when she isn't skating, but xingqiu has no problem sticking around the rink making fun of you all day, and he's only known you for what, a week?

you vaguely remember his older brother, a talented ice dancer whom you've also met at international competitions. xingqiu seems eager to follow in his footsteps, as a blossoming skater in his own right. although, you would like him better if he didn't choose to bicker with everyone around him.

"it's also the twentieth time i've fallen on a triple toe. leave me alone," you groan.

"fine, just because i feel bad. but hey, at least you've nailed triple sal!" he says, attempting to cheer you up.

you can't help but roll your eyes. "in case you forgot, a triple salchow is worth basically nothing in singles."

"okay, fine. then just do loops!" xingqiu says, forgetting you can't do triple loops yet either.

"i literally can't— okay you know what? fine."

...

xiao can't help but grimace on the inside every time he sees you land flat on your back. or your side. or your even your face. which is pretty often, considering you somehow keep choosing the same sessions to skate.

not that he cares that much, but he's fallen enough times to know how much it can hurt.

although he has to admit, your resolve is unwavering. he's not sure how you managed to fall on your 17th triple flip jump when you can't even land a triple toe. he's too caught up in watching you attempt your 18th when someone lightly taps his shoulder. he jumps.

"you know, it would not be above you to try and give her a hand," says zhongli.

"isn't that your job as a coach? besides, she seems more intent on trying every jump before she can actually land one."

"i've seen you standing here and watching more often than not. if you've noticed that, then why didn't you just tell her?" zhongli chides.

"i..." xiao doesn't have a good answer.

"i'll leave you to it then." zhongli leaves with a smile on his face.

...

xiao's last straw is when you fall attempting a triple lutz.

as you sit there with your butt on the cold ice, contemplating your life choices, he skids towards you.

he sighs. "how many times are you going to attempt things that you obviously can't do?"

you look at him wide-eyed, since, you haven't really spoken to each other after that fucked up first impression.

normally you would have something better to say, but your self esteem has been dwindling with each failed jump. each time you hit the ice feels as if you're proving him right.

"not everyone can do things as effortlessly as you," is all you can utter out.

xiao scoffs. "yeah, well it's not like i didn't work as hard as everyone else to be here."

"i didn't mean it like that. but...i gave this sport my everything. look where it got me," you sigh.

"you mean winning nationals, grand prix, four continents, and worlds?" he says.

now that was a surprise. of course, you were still upset with xiao after what he had said....but regardless, this was still xiao alatus. the best figure skater of all time—the skater you had looked up to during your entire career. your younger self would've beamed with pride from the realization that xiao had noticed you. "wow, i didn't know you were such a big fan of me," you can't help but tease, even if it was more like the other way around.

he gives you a glare, although the look in his eyes almost seemed....playful? perhaps your eyes were playing tricks on you. "yeah right. more like i was at most of those same competitions."

you nod, memories of being in the stands with your teammates washing over you. "i remember...and you won. all of them."

if only you knew that you had been cheering for him back then, too.

a sad smile takes over your face. "but the difference is that you kept winning. meanwhile, i, like you said, lasted for what? one season?" you say, quoting his harsh words.

he looks away briefly before shrugging. "i was under the impression that you would be competing this season," he replies.

what's with the sudden optimism? "i was under the impression that you thought i sucked," you reply back.

"you do suck."

pfft, that's more like him.

you laugh, clutching your heart and feigning agony. "you wound me."

xiao rolls his eyes once again, scoffing at you. "i meant right now. but...you seem to forget you were doing quads and triple axels not too long ago." he says the last part quietly, stringing the words together as if afraid to compliment you.

not sure what to say or think of it, you give him a look. "yeah, well i'm barely doing triples and double axels now. what's the use of competing like this?"

crossing his arms, he responds. "yeah, well, you have three months before the season starts. i'm sure the former world champion can recover at least a triple-triple combination before then."

you open your mouth to speak. then frown.

"what?" xiao questions.

"well...about that."

xiao is confused. "...yes?"

"snezhnaya."

"what about it?"

shoot. you've backed yourself into a corner. "i don't know if i should tell you. i'm not saying their methods were good in any way, but sometimes i wonder whether i can actually skate the way i used to without them," you admit hesitantly, hoping he doesn't push for more.

"methods?" xiao's expression becomes a stern one.

shit. "um, yeah. training methods," you say, hoping for the best.

now, xiao just looks insulted. "i hope you aren't insulting zhongli's methods." oh thank baal.

"of course not! he coached you after all. i wouldn't have come here otherwise. i just don't know if i have the...strength."

"if you can survive whatever shit show snezhnaya has going on, i'm sure you'll be fine," he reassures. you know instantly that he's talking about the long-standing rumors of the grueling training that the snezhnayan coaches put their students through.

.....they weren't all wrong, unfortunately.

"that's not—actually, well....nevermind. but that's not exactly my issue."

"then what is it?"

you sigh. "i just....in snezhnaya, everything is so structured. our entire days—no, lives, are practically laid out in front of us. without that sort of supervision, i feel like i don't know what to do on my own."

xiao offers you no pity. "so, you're lazy, basically."

talk about brutally honest.

you can't even reject his claims. "umm...yeah. essentially i just...don't know how to practice," you embarrassedly admit. what kind of world class figure skater can't practice on their own?

surprisingly, he nods in understanding. "i can tell. i was wondering why you would go from triple salchow to triple lutz," he says.

"right. because we skate the same sessions..." an idea pops into your head. whether it's good or bad...well, you'll find out.

"you should help me practice." you blurt out.

"what?" okay, maybe not a good idea.

"you...should help me practice. since we skate the same sessions. and since you're very obviously much better than me." if he doesn't say yes—

"are you sure? i've been told that people think i'm an ass. not exactly a ball of sunshine..." he quotes your words.

you grimace, remembering what you said. "sorry, i might've gotten a little carried away there. but don't act as if you weren't the one being rude first."

"i suppose i was rather harsh too." his words shock you to the core. he almost looked sorry, too. how did he go from ignoring you all week to this?

"so....is that a yes?"

"i'll think about it."

careful to hide your excitement, you offer him a smile. "i guess that's better than a no."

on the inside, though, you're dying. xiao alatus might help train you.

...

zhongli smiles, watching you two from the security footage in his office.

...

#figure skating #figure skating au #genshin #genshin fanfic #xiao x reader #xiao #xiao genshin #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #xingqiu #zhongli #x reader

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calderacitylovers · 9 months

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Wholesome Zutara Short Stories

Tell Me Where Your Heart Is by badlucksav | Published: 2021-04-12 | 2,363 words

Katara accidentally discovers a secret stash of love letters Zuko has written to an anonymous woman but never sent. Could he be talking about her? “And I can’t help but hope that maybe that’s a sign, that you feel for me as I feel for you. Maybe you’re afraid to put it to words, as I am. But I cannot ever speak these feelings to you unless I know...I won’t put you in that position.”

Tales of Tenderness by emicha | Published: 2021-04-06 | 3,068 words

Toph, Iroh, Sokka, Gran Gran, Aang, and Azula observe how the relationship between Zuko and Katara unfolds over the years. “This is the picture of two souls that have seen too much bad already, who’ve grieved and hurt more than one single lifetime should permit; the picture of two people who still have it in them to hold a person so different from oneself this close.”

MOONTIDES by MarkedMage | Published: 2020-11-24 | 10K Words

He smells like fire and feels like home. She smells like rain and feels like love. A short story about Zuko and Katara’s first kiss inspired by this and this glorious animation by Hayley Foster Wong.

GOLD by ifyouwereamelody | Published: 2020-11-27 | 3,7K Words

Zuko and Katara’s first kiss in a fall garden.

A Love Story Told in Reverse by cablesscutie | Published: 2021-04-26 | 9,324 words

A collection of sweet outtakes from Zuko and Katara’s life: from their childhoods to becoming parents. “Her head tips to rest on his shoulder, and with his heart in his throat, he gives into the months-old urge to kiss her hair. She makes a happy little hum, and Zuko can’t breathe.”

just say when by hawktasha | Published: 2021-03-16 | 6,131 words

After Sokka and Suki’s wedding, Katara wakes up with the worst hangover of her life, with the best friend she has been harboring feelings in secret for the last few years laying next to her, no clothes at all on either of their bodies. Oh, and she had no idea how they ended up in that predicament.

Engagement Chicken: The Engagement Scheme by DontStopHerNow | Published: 2022-09-18 | 23K words

After a night of commiseration about marriage expectations, Katara and Zuko agree to fake an engagement to get the meddlers off their backs. They'll call Chicken on the arrangement when everyone else objects. This can't last a month! Featuring: meddling friends, heartfelt words cloaked in half-truths, chaperones, Fire Nation engagement traditions, Southern Water Tribe wedding traditions, background couples, and a squid-whale with a mistaken identity

The Dragon of the West’s Guide to Flirting by bluesunflower44 | Published: 2021-05-12 | 4,341 words

“Now. Take very good care of this, it’s a family heirloom. Although no one passed it down to me, since I wrote it, it will be a family heirloom one day. I just know it.” Uncle Iroh is good with the ladies. So taking his advice when it comes to romance should go just fine...right?

Strike a Match by Naladot | Published: 2022-09-03 | 22K

At Republic City's second annual HeiBai festival, Fire Lord Zuko has contracted a matchmaker to find him a permanent political ally—or, well, a wife. He asks Katara to chaperone his meetings. But this arrangement only threatens to reveal the truth: there are a lot of things neither of them have ever dared to talk about.

Seven Years Bad Luck by riathermopolis | Published: 2021-08-08 | 20.6K words

The gaang reunites every summer for a week on Ember Island, which in theory Katara supports whole-heartedly. The only problem is that apparently some higher power on the island is on a mission to humiliate her. At least, that's her best guess for why she suddenly can't act like a normal person around Zuko. Or: Katara repeatedly embarrasses herself in front of Zuko.

Maiden Mother Crone by MoonShoesReyes | Published: 2021-02-12 | 10,8K Words

Post-canon. After the ravages of war, Katara learns to wear three faces: maiden, mother, and crone. A sweet story of Zuko supporting Katara in her journey of self-discovery and finding a purpose. A sprinkle of Blue Spirit and Painted Lady. "After years of being empty, Katara finally knew who she was - or at least, she knew who she was at the core. Though her cast of masks stayed ever-changing, the Painted Lady was always kind and just."

Bound to Burn by Selemetis | Published: 2020-10-02 | 10,3K Words

Post-canon. Zuko witnesses the kiss between Aang and Katara. Over the coming months Zuko and Katara work their way back together. "Zuko knew he had to let Katara go for her to see where she wanted to stand."

So Close and Still So Far by EKWolf2020| Published: 2022-09-18 | 6,4K Words

It is the ten-year celebration of the end of The Hundred-year-old war. Expectations and excitement are in the air for most of the world. But for Katara, she feels dread as some news has come to her that could change everything. Will she follow with expectations, or will she find that there is another path for her?

The Brave Man Only Once by ifyouwereamelody | Published: 2021-02-19 | 2,2K Words

Firelord Zuko and Ambassador Katara’s first kiss. “He flinches as a voice rips him abruptly out of his own thoughts and drops him back into the meeting; the table of council members is watching him, staring with raised brows that beg the answer to a question he doesn’t know, but Katara refuses to look his way.”

Til Kingdom Come by bluenebulae | Published: 2020-07-26 | Words: 6,2K

Four years after Sozin’s Comet, Katara finds her way home. A proposal story. Supportive Gaang. “I’ve spent four years exploring every corner of this world, Zuko. I’ve been a waterbending master and a shop girl, an assistant in an abbey and an advisor to the Earth King and a whole bunch of people in the Fire colonies still think I’m an actual spirit. I think, now, I just want to be Katara. And that means being here.”

Voyage by amoeve | Published: 2015-07-24 | Words: 4,2K When Zuko asks Katara to marry him, it is for love. But it’s also an alliance that shows the world that the war is truly over, and everyone wants to get in on the fun. For their wedding Zuko and Katara work their way through over-the-top combination of customs and traditions from the four nations. Hilarious and absurd, but wholesome. “She’s a waterbender. When they travel, the little ship skims across the surface of the sea, eating up the miles, and they have ice houses to sleep in every night. He’s a firebender. He lights their way when the fogs descend, keeps them warm when they sleep, and fries the fish she catches in his hands.”

But Who’s Counting? by halfhoursonearth | Published: 2023-12-28 Words: 7K

After the Last Agni Kai Zuko and Katara are waiting for the news from the GAang and get to explore their friendship and growing connection. A tender and beautiful story. “Tears are gathering in her eyes, and a new tightness pulls at Zuko’s chest. Though he still isn’t used to the casual way his new friends touch one another, this is not the first time he has felt the instinct to reach for Katara, in particular—to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder or arm. But wiping tears from her face is something new, and Katara watches him with wide eyes as his hand rises to her cheek.”

happiness (that's all rolled up in you) by soopsiedaisies | Published: 2024-01-17 | 3,8K words

A first kiss story. Zuko and Katara are cooking dinner for the Gaang on the Ember Island. Sweet, thrilling, and beautiful. "She reckons that she likes a lot of things about Zuko. She likes his face, for starters: his nose, his eyes, his mouth. She likes his scar and the way he dresses. She likes how he picks up the slack left by the others like those tasks were his anyway and she likes his smile. She likes the way he kisses and she really likes his hair."

For the Fire Nation | 2019-11-25 | 2,8K words

He falls in love with her for his country before he falls in love with her for himself. A short and beautiful AU story that explores how love and duty aren’t always mutually exclusive.

#katara x zuko #zukoxkatara #zutara fanfiction #zutara fic

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aimlacely-sapphic · 1 year

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🔥Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons🔥

My semi-canon compliant headcanons of Zuko after the war with a side of Zukka

Zuko's first few months as firelord are a bit of a mess. He's desperately trying to put together some semblance of functional governance in place of the corruption left in his fathers wake, while simultaneously trying to negotiate peace treaties and settlement agreements with nations his predecessors attempted to destroy.

He's overworking himself, not sleeping enough, forgetting to eat and overall just not doing a great job taking care of himself, convinced if he doesn't take care of things instantly then he's not doing enough.

It all comes to a head once the assassination attempts start getting out of hand. At that point Zuko is simply not sleeping so Sokka, Mai, Tylee and Iroh stage an intervention (you cannot convince me Iroh would stay in Ba Sing Se once things start getting out of hand)

His security get upgraded, Toph gets brought in to vet the staff (she can tell when people are lying!! why wouldn't she get to kick people out of the palace?)

And finally things start to settle down

Once the peace talks and negotiations are done he starts transforming the Fire Nation itself

A lot of people have written about this but I am absolutely convinced that Zuko spends the first year trying to get the palace staff to trust him not to hurt them

By the second or third year they are willing to speak to him and have more than small talk

He goes about making a lot of changes in policy but first he disappears for 2 days only Sokka and his head guard knowing in advance

He goes incognito through dozens of towns and villages

He visits schools (putting his blue spirit skills to use)

He goes to orphanages and homeless shelters

He goes back to the Sun Warriors to tell them about the end of the war and seek advice on how to reshape the way firebending is taught to everyone (and maybe he ends up adopting a dragon egg in the process...)

When he returns to the palace he is ready to transform the nation

He makes it a crime to use corporeal punishment

He brings back old traditions and rule for Agni Kais where they can only be fought by adults against adults provided they both agree to the fight. The Agni Kai stops when a person surrenders or at first burn.

He wanted to completely end the practice of Agni Kais but tradition could not constantly be broken by his reign (according to his advisors) so the changes just make them less common or harmful until they go obsolete

He puts in place programs for veterans to get the treatment and support they need.

He creates a fostering program where children who have been left behind can find love with parents who have lost children or veterans who want to bring love and hope to the world

He works with Aang and Sokka and Master Piandao to create new curriculum for the schools which is historically accurate, brings back culture and joy and teaches students to think for themselves

He includes some of the wisdom from the sun warriors in the new curriculum so that firebending, and really all fighting forms can be taught with their duality in mind. Fire burns but it is also life. Martial Arts can be use to kill, but they are also an art form.

Making the curriculum stick is a longer process but with help from people on the inside, slowly but surely schools start to teach in a better. kinder way

Its around the time of Zuko's 20th birthday when advisors start to bother him about marrying.

It is while trying to avoid their matchmaking that he start realizing that he likes Sokka (he's an oblivious biromantic asexual, why would anyone expect it to take less time)

Not much changes when they get together, they still spar and go to the gardens to feed the turtleducks together, Sokka still makes silly faces behind ambassadors backs, Zuko still goes down to the kitchens to make them a pot of tea to have together witting in his room (the kitchen staff are used to this by now)

But they start sharing more intimacies, finding what feels comfortable for them in the form of hugs that last just a bit longer and chaste kisses on shoulders and cheeks and foreheads.

And when the egg from the sun warriors hatches and a tiny dragon comes tumbling out, they name him Druk and take care of him together

Zuko continues to go on trips incognito a few times a year and it is on one of these trips what he finds a young child alone on the side of the road. When he learns that she has know family he tries to taker her to the orphanage in the town near by. She runs away and there is nothing Zuko is willing to do to get her to go.

She has a grittiness and fighting spirit that reminds Zuko of his younger self, an independent streak and impulsiveness that border on dangerous. And even though Zuko has to leave her that day he can't stop thinking about her as he returns to the palace.

Sokka notices right away and they talk about her, and adoption, and the fact that Zuko needs an heir and end up figuring out that they want a child of their own to raise now that Druk is all grown up

When Zuko next returns to the town he brings Sokka, a legal witness and adoption papers with him.

He introduces her to Druk and when she pets him and falls in love they start to talk to her. She begins to trust them, telling them her name is Izumi and that she doesn't like the orphanage because it reminds her too much of her past.

They stay for a few days getting to know her and when they ask if she wants to live with them she does say yes.

Over time Zuko comes to find balance and love in the peace he created in the Fire Nation<3

Note: I cannot take credit for all of these ideas, some of them come from a bunch of fanfictions I've read over the years and especially Post-Canon Fire Lord Zuko (and his staff) by RejectsCanon

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #fire lord zuko #zukka #post canon atla #atla fanfic #dragon dad zuko #druk (avatar)#izumi avatar #the fire nation #peace time and healing #i'm biro ace #and definitely not projecting /s

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taomubiji · 3 months

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25 Facts About Xie Yuchen

1. Xie Yuchen was born on October 3, 1978.

2. Xie Yuchen's stage name, Jie Yuhua, comes from the poem 《蝶恋花（用宜笑之语作）》 by Zhao Shixia.

3. Xie Yuchen and Wu Xie were playmates when Xie Yuchen was five or six years old.

4. Xie Yuchen and Wu Xie are distant cousins.

5. As a child, Xie Yuchen would play Hua Dan and Qingyi (types of female roles) in Chinese opera. As a result, many people, including Wu Xie, thought he was a girl.

6. After Xie Yuchen's uncle, Xie Lianhuan, died, his father died soon after, and then several more of his uncles died.

7. Xie Yuchen had to take over the family business at 8 years old.

8. Xie Yuchen described the experiences he had growing up as "very, very uncomfortable."

9. He lived in a military compound.

10. When a friend of his caused trouble, he bought more than a hundred sheep to make up for it.

11. The first time Xie Yuchen appears he is described by Wu Xie as being dressed in a black suit with a pink shirt underneath and no tie.

12. He originally wore the color pink to offset his murderous aura.

13. When Xie Yuchen and Wu Xie met again as adults, they both smiled "pervertedly" at each other.

14. Xie Yuchen became a guarantor for Wu Xie's debt after Wu Xie's now-legendary disastrous biddings at the Xin Yue Restaurant.

15. In the online version of Sand Sea 2, Xie Yuchen throws Su Wan, Yang Hao, Li Cu, and Liang Wan out the window of a moving train.

16. In The Lost Tombs and Ultimate Note, Xie Yuchen is included much more than in the novels the shows adapted. However, in Reunion and Tomb of the Sea, his role is significantly reduced.

17. He sings every year during the Qingming Festival for Er Yuehong.

18. Wu Xie thinks he is "an extremely difficult person to get along with."

19. Xie Yuchen likes salty foods.

20. He was the biggest contributor in preventing Chinese national treasures from being exported.

21. Xie Yuchen smokes cigarettes but isn't addicted.

22. He has a habit of collecting old buildings.

23. In his free time, he practices Chinese opera, paints, and arranges flowers.

24. Xie Yuchen has used a butterfly knife and an antique dagger as weapons.

25. A the age of seventeen, he had already been surrounded by death and had even heard the words "it’s going to rain blood tonight" by his own mother.

References

English novel references refer to Merebear's translation, Chinese novel references refer to the original Chinese version.

Photo: From NP Entertainment's Merch Weibo

Author Celebrated His Birthday on October 3; Volume 7, Chapter 56; 盗墓笔记7，第五十一章 (XYC says that he's 26yo, V7 takes place in 2004).

The Mystic Nine Memories Extra; 九门回忆 (Note: it should be Jie Yuhua not Xie Yuhua in merebear's translation)

Volume 7, Chapter 31; 盗墓笔记7，第二十六章

The Mystic Nine (4) Xie-Wu Matchmaking Extra; 吴邪私家笔记，第三卷，九五做媒; 老九门短篇集肆——九五做媒

Volume 7, Chapter 56; 盗墓笔记7，第五十一章

Sand Sea, Chapter 112; 沙海3，第一章

Volume 7, Chapter 35; 盗墓笔记7，第三十章

Volume 7, Chapter 5; 盗墓笔记6：邛笼石影，第五章

A Day in the Life of Xie Yuchen Extra; 解语花的一天

Volume 7, Chapter 6; 盗墓笔记6：邛笼石影，第六章

Some of Wu Xie's Thoughts Extra; 吴邪的小心情

Sand Sea, Chapter 73; 沙海2，第三十四章 (Note: this part was removed in the print version)

Watch the shows; read the books

Xiao Hua’s Annual Party Extra; 小花的年会

Seven Fingers Extra, Chapter 13; 七指，第十三章

Fishing King Extra, Chapter 7; 钓王，第七章

Sand Sea (Online), Chapter 89; 沙海2 (Online)，第五十章 (Note: this part was removed in the print version)

A Day in the Life of Xie Yuchen Extra; 解语花的一天

A Thousand Faces, Chapters 1, 17; 千面，第一，十七章 (Note: I don't have the published version)

Sand Sea (Online), Chapter 88; 沙海2 (Online)，第四十九章; 沙海2 (Print), 第五十一章

Volume 7, Chapter 31; 盗墓笔记7 第二十五章; Sand Sea (Online), Chapter 75; 沙海2 (Online), 第三十六章; 沙海2 (Print), 第五十章

Volume 8, Chapter 10; 盗墓笔记8 第十章

#dmbj #xie yuchen #xiao hua

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tcwmatchmakingau · 9 months

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Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo

A/N: This is a standalone sequel to “Everybody Hates Neyo,” (NSFW) by @dystopicjumpsuit (that’s me), and “The Blacklist,” by the brilliant @blueink-bluesoul, who also generously let me borrow the character of Daria Trace (THANK YOU!). You don’t need to read those fics to understand this one, but you should because they’re great and they provide more background. I converted the Reader-insert into an OC because to be frank, she’s a piece of work, and I didn’t want to project that onto my readers. That said, as always, feel free to insert yourself into the story if you prefer; I haven’t described the OC beyond being a woman with hair long enough to pull.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x the Admiral (formerly Fem!Reader)

Rating: M | 18+ | Minors DNI

Wordcount: 6.5K (I know)

Warnings and tags: toxic, obsessive behavior; SO MUCH SMUT; hatefucking; rough sex; oral sex; PIV; hair pulling; biting; sex under the influence of alcohol; Neyo and the Admiral being absolute menaces to society

Disclaimer: Let me just put on my Auntie DJ hat for a second. *ahem* This is a work of fiction intended for entertainment only. Please do not take this as a guide to romance or a healthy relationship. Neyo and the Bad-miral are flawed characters in a wildly problematic relationship with more red flags than the Fire Nation. Enjoy!

Matchmaker extraordinaire Daria Trace was not accustomed to failure. When she applied her considerable intellect to a problem, she did not stop until she formulated a solution. Which was why her now-99% matchmaking success rate galled her so intensely. In all her years of matchmaking, she had never encountered a client so stubbornly determined to thwart her efforts as Marshal Commander Neyo. After twelve failed matches—one of which involved a call from an infuriated woman demanding to know “why the kriff you thought I was a good match for that sociopath”—she had reluctantly conceded defeat.

The blacklisting of Commander Neyo from the Right to Love Matchmaking Service spread like wildfire through the GAR gossip channels. Most of the troopers thought it was hilarious; others insisted that he’d finally gotten what he deserved. In fact, the only people who seemed to have any sympathy for Neyo were Commanders Bacara (to be expected) and Fox (somewhat less expected). And when Fox reached out directly to Daria and asked her, as a personal favor, to give Neyo one more chance, she agreed. One more chance, and ONLY to give her an opportunity to get that track record back up to a perfect 100%.

She glared irritably at Neyo’s file and clicked her stylus three times, twirling it between her fingers. The man was impossible. It was no wonder he’d turned to RTL for help finding a partner; any woman in her right mind would run in the opposite direction the minute she looked into those blank, frigid eyes. She shuddered involuntarily. Shark’s eyes. Daria had made a few discreet inquiries after he’d first signed up for the service, just to make sure she wasn’t about to set up some unsuspecting match with a serial murderer. Without fail, every single answer said the same thing: he was an ice-cold sonofabitch, but he had a strict code of honor, and no, he wasn’t a serial murderer. Probably.

She sighed and tossed his file to the side, to be revisited some other day. He was her most difficult client, but by no means was he the only problematic match candidate, and she had a small stack of what Blizzard liked to call The Hopeless Casefiles waiting for her to review. Just thinking about Neyo’s case had given her the beginnings of a spectacular tension headache, and she flipped through the folders quickly, looking for one that was a little less challenging. As she skimmed the stacks of flimsi, her eyes came to rest on one name: Reeda Wai’yen.

Now there’s a thought.

Daria was sure that Reeda was a lovely woman, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was just very… intense. Like Neyo, she had chewed through several potential matches, and the most frequent word that appeared in her failed matches’ post-date surveys was “intimidating,” followed closely by “terrifying.” Daria had sniffed disdainfully that those particular matches simply couldn’t handle a strong woman; however, she had to admit that after several months of trying, she had not been able to find a perfect match for Reeda. She pulled Neyo’s file and laid it out next to Reeda’s. As she compared their backgrounds and preferences, she became more and more convinced. This could work. Given their personalities, it might well be the best possible outcome for society at large if they were both removed from the dating pool. And if it happened to close out her two most annoying files, well. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect-track-record sundae.

A timid knock sounded on Reeda’s office door.

“Come,” she called shortly.

Her assistant, Lissi, poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you’ve received a comm from RTL Matchmaking.”

Reeda cursed. She was up to her ass in flimsiwork, and she was meeting with the Senate Task Force on Galactic Security in ten minutes. She did not have time for this now.

“Take care of it,” she ordered.

“Sir?” Lissi asked, her wide, startled eyes giving her a distinct resemblance to a terrified ash-rabbit.

“Just take care of it,” Reeda repeated, tamping down her irritation at being questioned. “You know my schedule better than I do. Set it up. Somewhere nice—somewhere in the Federal district. I don’t have time to deal with traffic.”

Lissi blinked, nonplussed. “Don’t you want to see who you matched with?”

“No time,” Reeda said, rising to gather her materials for the meeting. “Just put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

Three nights later, Reeda sat in the restaurant at the top of the tower where her penthouse was located, waiting for her mystery date to arrive. She had to commend Lissi’s efficiency in choosing the venue; the only traffic she’d had to endure was at the lift. And it was a lovely restaurant, she had to admit, with stunning views of the Coruscant cityscape. She had only eaten here once since she’d bought the flat, usually opting to have food delivered to her office at the Republic Center for Military Operations as she worked late into the night.

She had resisted the urge to bring her datapad with her to the restaurant, knowing that if she did, she would inevitably get sucked into work, but now she wished she’d taken a moment to review the file from RTL. It wasn’t that she thought all clone troopers were interchangeable; far from it. She had worked closely with them during the war, had fought by their sides, and she had found them to be brave, competent, and loyal. They were also notoriously attractive, but she was a professional, and she was their superior officer, and she had never allowed that line to become blurred—except on one memorable and highly regrettable occasion.

She had had no time for a personal life during the war, but now that it was over—well, to be honest, she still had no time for a personal life. Which was exactly why she had reached out to RTL; it was the perfect solution. She didn’t enjoy solitude. She wanted companionship, and maybe even something more. But she needed a partner who would understand the demands of her career, and nobody understood the burden of duty better than the clones. Now that she had separated from the GAR and returned to her post in her home planet’s military defense force, the rules regarding fraternization no longer applied to her.

She hadn’t bothered to review the file because she’d learned from the previous several failed dates that a promising file was no indicator of compatibility. Still, as she waited for her date, who was now seven minutes late, she wished she’d at least checked to see if he had any identifying marks or tattoos that would make him easier to spot. To be fair, though, the few clones present in the restaurant were already paired up with other diners.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t intended to skip lunch, but she’d had back-to-back meetings with the joint chiefs of the Core Worlds Defense Alliance and the senate appropriations committee, and one thing led to another. The service droid had delivered a basket of fresh, hot bread rolls, which she had heroically resisted for the first six minutes past the scheduled start of the date, but now her resolve began to crumble. If her mystery date didn’t have the basic courtesy to be on time, by the Force, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she ate all the bread before he arrived.

She buttered a roll and took a small bite. She couldn’t suppress the groan of relief at the buttery, yeasty goodness, and she quickly polished it off, then picked up another. She had just begun to butter her third role when the unmistakable voice of a clone spoke next to her.

“Admiral.”

She turned automatically, a smile just beginning to form on her lips, when she caught sight of a familiar set of numbers tattooed on a handsome, arrogant face.

“Oh, no,” she said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marshal Commander Neyo replied contemptuously. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, grinding her jaw. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t just as surprised as I am,” she snapped. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“I didn’t get a file, just a call.” He grunted. “Apparently, ‘beggars can’t be choosers,’ and I was lucky to get a match at all.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mocked.

“Careful, Admiral. Don’t forget they matched you with me.”

“I would be insulted if it weren’t so obviously a mistake. I can’t say I’m impressed with their performance thus far.”

“For once, I agree with you,” he said. “You’d have to be a special kind of incompetent to think we were a good match.”

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

“At least you’re safe, since you obviously have no soul and you’re definitely not innocent,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Damn him for being right about the porg, though. How did he know?

The wine arrived, and he poured a generous glass for each of them. She didn’t toast; just downed half of it in a single swallow. Neyo sipped his and leaned back in his chair to observe her. His sleek, severe hair and the large tattoo on his cheek made him look menacing as hell, but it was his eyes that made brave men take a step back. She didn’t know how it was possible for his eyes to be that unnerving. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? What a waste of perfectly good Fett genes to have a personality like that.

“Did you stay just to torment me?” she asked when the silence stretched beyond the limits of her endurance.

“And because I heard the filet was good,” he said affably. “What are you even doing on Coruscant? I thought you’d scuttled back to whatever hellhole spawned you.”

“Kuat,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “I was assigned to work as our military liaison on Coruscant.”

“Couldn’t stand having you back on the planet?” he derided. “I don’t blame them.”

“I need to use the fresher,” she said, flinging her napkin down on the table with excessive force. “Feel free to die while I’m gone.”

She strode purposefully through the restaurant, her face set in a steely mask. She knew she was drawing attention from other patrons, but if she sat at that table and listened to Neyo needle her for one more second, she was either going to stab him or burst into tears. She pushed through the refresher doors and went to the sink, washing her hands just to give herself something to do. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was Admiral Wai’yen, not Reeda. Stern. Unyielding. Unaffected.

She swallowed, and her face crumpled. Tears of rage stung her eyes, and she ruthlessly wiped them away with her clenched fist. A soft noise at the door startled her, and she whirled to face the intruder. Horror flooded her. It was Neyo, and he’d caught her crying in the ladies’ room.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded icily. “Get out.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he locked the door. Stalking across the room, he cupped her jaw in his hands and tilted her face to get a closer look. She tried to pull away, to put her Admiral Wai’yen mask back in place, but then his thumb stroked softly next to her eye, wiping away the tear that had breached containment. She gasped involuntarily, and his lips collided with hers.

Reeda was so shocked that for a moment she went perfectly still, but then Neyo flicked his tongue across her lower lip, and her body remembered how to move. She thrust him away and stood back, glaring at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and those cold eyes blazed with a dark and covetous fire. She raised a hand to her lips and felt the slickness left by his tongue. Something snapped inside her. She took two hasty steps forward, and she was in his arms again, his hands rough and dominating on her body as they consumed each other with a kiss that teetered on the edge of violence.

Lips, tongues, teeth crashed together. He clasped her tightly against his hard, unyielding body, and unbidden, the memory of him deep inside her came flooding back. He gripped her ass and ground his rapidly stiffening cock against her. Her reaction was electric. She rolled her hips, nearly climbing him in desperation. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed her once, roughly, and then to her breast, yanking aside her dress as he closed his teeth on her soft skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees between her thighs, rucking up her dress around her hips, and then his mouth was on her.

He didn’t even bother removing her underwear, as though he couldn’t wait another millisecond to taste her. He licked and sucked on her through the fabric, his mouth working frantically. Her body jolted and trembled at the effort of staying upright, and then his tongue snaked past the lace and dipped into her, smooth and hot and wet. He let out a vicious growl and grabbed her hips, settling her thighs over his shoulders, and then he pulled her off the sink and thrust her against his face as his tongue speared over and over into her cunt. She yelped and scrambled to brace herself with her hands, her arms shaking with exertion.

She couldn’t come like this, but kriff, it was hot to feel Neyo throw her around with such ease, like she was his own personal toy. How many nights had she fucked herself to sleep to the memory of their first encounter? The way he’d lifted her bodily off the ground and thrust into her, supporting them both with those powerful thighs—it played on a loop in her head for months, long after the bite marks and bruises had faded.

His tongue slid out of her cunt and swirled around her clit, and her legs spasmed around his head. She couldn’t come like this. Could she? All the muscles in her body began to tense, and her pelvis began to rock rhythmically against his face. Shit, I’m going to come. No sooner had the thought formed than Neyo dropped her back onto the sink and pulled away from her.

“No!” she wailed. “You bastard, I was right there!”

He shot to his feet. “Shut. Up,” he bit out, and kissed her punishingly hard. “Do you want the whole Federal District to know what we’re doing?”

He pulled her head back to expose her throat, and he scraped his teeth across her delicate skin. She felt his other hand fumbling in between them. Within seconds, his cock was free and thrusting against the scrap of lace that still covered her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, determined to find the stimulation that she needed to reach completion.

“Get inside me,” she hissed.

“You aren’t calling the shots any more, Admiral,” he growled. “You don’t get to give commands.”

“I hate you,” she breathed.

“And yet here you are, begging for my cock,” he said coldly.

“I do not beg,” she said. “Ever.”

He released her hair and pried her legs away from himself, then took a step back. “You get nothing until you admit that you want me. I’ve waited a long time for this. I can keep waiting.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding off the sink to stand in front of him.

“It means you give me what I want, or I walk out that door right now and you can figure your own shit out.”

Was this his twisted kriffing way of asking for consent? Because she was pretty sure she’d covered that when she all but ordered him to fuck her.

“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “I…” She nearly choked on the words, and Neyo’s intent gaze pinned her in place. “I want you.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a bruising kiss, then spun her around and bent her over the sink. He pulled up her dress, yanked down her panties, and thrust into her. She muffled a whimper at the intrusion and squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the stretch. He wrapped his hands around her hair and jerked her head up.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch,” he ordered.

She complied, shocked when she saw her own ravaged face in the mirror as Neyo pounded into her from behind. Her makeup was smeared, her hair was a wreck, her eyes were dilated with lust, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her skin. She flicked her gaze to stare at Neyo. His face was twisted into a scowl, and if she had any sense at all, she would have been frightened, but she was in too deep to care. His hard eyes met hers in the mirror, and his jaw tightened.

He released her hair and slid his arm around her body, between her breasts, to wrap around her throat, and he lifted her upright so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you know what you did to me?” His voice was hoarse and anguished. “Every time I kissed someone, all I could taste was you. Every time I hooked up, all I could remember was this perfect fucking pussy.”

He pounded into her with bruising intensity, furiously working her clit with his free hand. Her head began to throb. This was so wrong. He couldn’t be saying what she thought she was hearing. She was confused from the lack of blood flowing to her brain.

“I got matched twelve different times, and not one of them was right, because not one of them was you,” he snarled. “You cursed me. You haunt me.”

The world began to darken around the edges as her eyes drifted closed, and he released her throat and forced her head to the side so she faced him.

“Look at me when you fucking come,” he ordered.

She gasped, and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to muffle her scream as he wrenched an orgasm from her body. He didn’t let up, chasing after her at a frenzied pace that rocked her entire body as she sobbed into his hand.

“Inside?” he asked roughly.

She nodded and whimpered as tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. He came with two brutal thrusts, and she felt the hot rush of his release deep inside. He shuddered against her hair as his cock softened and slipped out of her. At last, he loosened his grip and turned her to face him as he leaned against the wall for support. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as she rested her head against him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she sighed as she licked his neck, unable to resist the temptation of tasting his skin.

“I’m sure there’s an official list in my GAR file,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Reeda cleaned up quickly while Neyo went back to their table so they wouldn’t be spotted leaving the refresher together. Her hairstyle was destroyed, so she hastily repinned it as well as she could, and then wiped off the mascara that smudged heavily beneath her eyes. A quick reapplication of lipstick, and she almost looked presentable—with the minor exception of her missing panties, which Neyo had silently retrieved from the refresher floor and tucked into his pocket while maintaining strong eye contact.

When she returned to the dining room, Neyo waylaid her with a ferocious expression. Force, what is he scugged about now?

“We’re leaving,” he said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit. A few quiet murmurs whispered around the room as he dragged her behind him.

“What?” she asked, tugging her wrist to no avail. “Why?”

“The karking droid gave away our table,” he said.

“My deepest apologies, Admiral,” the droid said. “We can locate another table if you would care to wait.”

Reeda assessed the room quickly. Every table was occupied, and none of the diners were anywhere close to being ready to leave. Moreover, at least half of the customers were eyeing her and Neyo with expressions ranging from amusement to overt curiosity.

“No,” she said. “Have the food delivered to my flat.”

“Right away, sir,” the droid replied, waddling off to relay the order to the kitchen.

Neyo looked at her inquisitively. “Your flat?”

“I live in this building,” she said. “Come with me.”

She was keenly aware of the many sets of eyes that tracked their hasty exit, but before long, she led Neyo into the private, secure lift that opened directly into her penthouse. He stood silently next to her on the trip up, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. She tried not to give herself an opportunity to second-guess her decision to let him into her home. Strange, she thought, how this seemed more intimate than allowing him inside her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed another person into her home.

The lift doors opened, and he followed her into the flat, pausing long enough to remove their shoes, then looking around curiously.

“Lived here long?”

“A few months,” she said. “I bought it when I found out I’d be stationed on Coruscant long-term.”

“It’s nice,” he said. “Very… clean.”

She laughed. “You mean sterile. I haven’t had time to do much decorating. I’m hardly here except to sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “I thought I’d have more time for hobbies after the war ended, but now it’s just nonstop—”

“Red tape and committees,” she finished with a sympathetic grimace. He shot her a wry grin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before, and it did uncomfortable things to her brain. She tried not to think about it, instead asking, “What kind of hobbies? Aside from plotting my slow death, obviously.”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Torturing small, adorable creatures; sharpening my vibroblade collection; collecting stamps; that sort of thing.”

She blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, eyes unreadable as ever. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

She was taken aback. “I—”

Her reply was cut off by the chime of the door. The food had arrived, thank the Force, which gave her a moment to stop herself from blurting out her immediate thought: You’ve never given me any reason to think anything else.

Neyo was a competent soldier—brilliant, in fact. There was no question that he had one of the finest tactical and strategic minds in the GAR. But as a person? From the moment they’d met, he’d been antagonistic, sardonic, cold. He’d challenged her authority and provoked her in meetings. He’d only treated her with the barest semblance of civility in public, and in private—Well. They both knew how things went when they were alone.

The service droid rolled a cart into the dining room and began setting up the meal.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered Neyo. “I don’t have any Alderaanian red, but I do have Cheedoan whiskey.”

“The good stuff,” he replied. “I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

The droid finished setting up and shuffled out the front door as Reeda poured two generous glasses of whiskey at the wet bar.

“Ice?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses in surprise to find him standing close behind her. He locked his eyes on hers and never looked away as he took one of the glasses and drained it in a single swallow, then set it down with a decisive click on the counter. Her heart began to pound as he loomed over her. He traced his fingers from her elbow up to her wrist, and then he wrapped his hand around hers and raised her glass to her lips.

The whiskey burned a fiery path across her tongue and down her throat. A few droplets escaped and splashed coldly on her chest. Neyo didn’t let up until she emptied the glass, and when she was done, he leaned down and sucked the liquor off her skin. His hands dropped to her hips and slid up her back as he located the zipper of her dress and dragged it down excruciatingly slowly, and all the while, his mouth moved across her skin. He slipped the straps down over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor, and then he kissed a path along the lacy edge of her bra.

“Thanks for the matched set,” he said, unhooking it and pulling it off.

“Those were expensive, asshole,” she said unsteadily.

He didn’t reply, but she knew she was never going to see that bra again. He kissed his way down her breast and captured her nipple in his mouth, abrading it lightly with his teeth. She jolted, and the empty glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the hard tiles of the floor.

Neyo barely responded to the sound of shattering crystal. Reeda froze, keenly aware that the smallest movement could result in a bloody footful of glass. She stood utterly, helplessly still as he continued to explore her body with his teeth and lips and hands and tongue. He was thorough in his attentions, and something about being entirely at his mercy was wildly arousing. Her head spun as the whiskey began to work its insidious way through her bloodstream.

“I missed this perfume. What is it?” he murmured against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“I don’t wear any,” she said.

He nuzzled against her as though he could transfer her scent to his own skin. Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her out of the room, completely disregarding the risk to himself. But instead of dropping her as soon as they were clear of the broken glass as she expected, he asked, “Bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, and he strode across the flat and kicked open the door, to her intense irritation. “You gonna pay for the broken doorknob?”

He didn’t reply, just tossed her onto the bed and pounced on her as soon as she landed. He slid in between her thighs and gripped her hard as his mouth descended on hers, kissing her as though he were trying to devour her soul. He was still fully clothed, and she scrambled to pull off his shirt. He was completely unhelpful, too engrossed in her taste. She raked her nails across his skin as she yanked his shirt over his head, and he seized her lip in his teeth in revenge.

At last, the barrier of his shirt was gone, and she writhed against him, desperate to feel as much of his warm, smooth skin against her as possible. They clashed together, sinking nails and teeth into each other. At some point, Neyo got his trousers down enough to free his cock, and he shoved into her. His belt chafed harshly on her delicate skin as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. The sounds they made were unholy, primal: growls and grunts and screams of pain and ecstasy as they tore into each other with all the aggression that they had built over the years.

She pulled his hair; he clawed her back. She slapped his face; he bit her shoulder. She snarled that she loathed him; he interlaced his fingers with hers and whispered how beautiful she was when she came apart beneath him. She thrust him away and kicked him across the bed; he pinned her down and fucked her until she sobbed and begged for more. At some point, she tasted blood, and she didn’t know or care whose it was. And when at last she lost count of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm, he curled his body around hers and traced his thumb softly over her features as she drifted to sleep.

“If I die while I’m inside you, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,” he whispered.

“Force, you say some kriffed up shit,” she grumbled.

Reeda awakened slowly, aware of something blissfully warm and soothing moving across her skin. She cracked her eyes open. Neyo was lying on top of her, dragging his tongue lazily over her body. He roamed along her curves, and it wasn’t until he paused at her bruised wrist that she realized what he was doing.

“Are you licking my wounds?” she breathed.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes met hers with an intensity that bordered on madness. Gods, everything about this was so fucked up, and she didn’t dare examine too closely why she found it so incredibly arousing. He moved slowly, meticulously, his tongue gliding softly over every centimeter of her body, until she felt like a bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark. She came before he ever reached her cunt, and again as he rocked gently inside her, his lips soft against her mouth, silent tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to course down her temples.

After, he guided her into the shower, and when her legs gave out, he held her upright as the hot water washed over them. Once he’d massaged her entire body with his strong, soapy hands, he dried her off and laid her back on the bed while he spread bacta across the damage he’d inflicted. It was disorienting to be cared for so thoroughly by the man who’d spent the better part of four years making her life hell. He didn’t speak, and she didn’t know what to say, so in the end, she simply watched him in silence.

When he finished with the bacta, he retrieved their dinner from the dining room. The food had long since gone cold, but after hours of intense physical activity, they were famished, and they ate it anyway, sharing bites and sipping whiskey straight from the decanter. Neyo sat with his back against the headboard, his long, strong legs bracketing Reeda as she leaned back against his broad chest.

“How did you know porg was my favorite?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They’re tiny, cute, and innocent. I just assumed you would enjoy extinguishing the life from them and consuming their remains.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Is that why you order your meat rare? Because it’s the next best thing to drinking straight from the source?”

“Finally, someone who understands,” he smirked. “Truthfully, I overheard you tell Admiral Coburn that porg was your favorite during a banquet at the strategy conference at Valor.”

She turned to stare up at him. “Neyo, that was two years ago. That was before we ever…”

“I know,” he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder as his lips glided across her skin.

“What does it say about you that you like it?” he whispered when he reached her ear.

He pulled her close, positioning himself between her and the bedroom door. From the proprietary way he held her, she knew it was a deliberate choice; any threat that came through that door would have to go through him before it got to her, and she had a feeling that there weren’t many beings in the galaxy that were brave or foolish enough to try.

Reeda jerked awake to a furious pounding at the front door. Neyo was already halfway out of the bedroom, stark naked and armed with a steak knife from their midnight dinner.

“Wait here,” he ordered, his voice hard and flat.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled on a bathrobe and grabbed a blaster from her nightstand. Neyo glared at her when she joined him, but didn’t bother yelling at her.

“Coruscant guard! Open up,” a modulated voice shouted harshly from outside the door.

Neyo glanced questioningly at her, and she shrugged, hiding the blaster behind her robe. He stepped out of view of the door, and she opened it to find none other than Marshal Commander Fox, flanked by two Corrie ARC troopers.

“Commander,” she greeted him, not bothering to conceal the surprise in her voice.

“Good to see you’re in one piece, Admiral,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, baffled.

“We received multiple calls about a disturbance at your address. Are you alone?”

Reeda felt a hot rush of blood wash over her face and neck. “I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Commander.”

“Sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to—” He stopped abruptly, and his visor shifted to a point behind her.

“Isn’t this a little below your pay grade, Fox?” Neyo drawled close behind Reeda.

Fox’s visor turned back to Reeda, then to Neyo, and then back to Reeda again. The two ARC troopers appeared to be fascinated by the walls on either side of the front door.

At last, Fox spoke. “I don’t send shinies to wake up admirals.”

Neyo’s hand slid possessively around the front of Reeda’s abdomen, and he pulled her against his nude body. Something large and solid prodded against her backside. Dank farrik, is he turned on right now? Sick bastard.

“Thank you for your concern,” she told Fox, “but everything is under control.”

“So I see,” Fox replied. “Still, you’ll need to keep the noise level down, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

Neyo reached forward silently and shut the door in Fox’s face, then he spun Reeda around, picked her up over his shoulder, and carried her back to the bedroom. The last thing Fox heard was the unmistakable sound of Neyo’s hand slapping her ass as Reeda shrieked with indignant laughter.

Republic Military HQ buzzed quietly with speculation the next morning when not one, but two of the most senior command staff called in sick for the first time in either of their careers. Rumors swirled: some were convinced a secret bioweapon had been released by Separatist holdouts; others maintained that the stress of dealing with politicians was beginning to take a toll; still others claimed that it was a coverup and that the marshal commander and the admiral had been taken hostage by pirates. It was whispered that Commander Fox had a particularly haunted expression that morning, and two of the Coruscant Guard ARC Troopers had contacted the legal department to update their wills. In the midst of all this, the beleaguered Lissi received a brusque order to inform RTL Matchmaking that the admiral no longer required their services.

Daria drained her third iced caf of the morning as she flicked through her holomessages. Buried amidst the intake forms and meeting invitations was an abrupt-bordering-on-rude note from Marshal Commander Neyo ordering her to close his file.

“Why do you look like the tooka that got the blue milk?” her fellow matchmaker Tarsi Renda asked as she passed Daria in the corridor.

“Oh, no reason,” Daria smiled. “The galaxy is back to normal, that’s all—and my track record is once again perfect.”

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