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#Who has given in poor woman
deeneedsaname · 5 months
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Can we have a moment of silence for Sylvia, who now has an Alien living in her backyard, and a moment of triumph for Wilf, who now has an Alien living in his backyard
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woolandcoffee · 2 months
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Finally reading Gone Girl and you know what, I woulda gone girled this man too.
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orangegaytorade · 17 days
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Yknow what's crazy in all of this watching of Supernatural? I can understand that some of the women in this show were portrayed sometimes as an attempt of being worthy of fan praise or just being liked but because their writing is lacking and doesn't truly explore their background it almost always falls short.
The only exceptions to this right now (i'm in the middle of S4) is Ruby who is playing a kinda vital part in the narrative and a little bit of Mary Winchester because we learned about her past before she got married.
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stromblessed · 5 months
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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
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If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
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I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
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However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
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Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
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While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
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She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
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You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
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And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
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MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
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Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
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The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
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Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
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Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
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But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
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"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
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beguines · 2 months
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As a significant "feminised" category of mental illness, however, HPD [histrionic personality disorder] was superseded in the DSM-III by the introduction of the controversial BPD, a label which has been increasingly applied to women, with around 75 per cent of all cases estimated to be female. Seen as a milder form of schizophrenia and lying on the "borderline" between neuroses and psychoses, the concept has been used in psychiatry since 1938. Like other personality disorders, BPD has a notoriously low reliability level even by the generally poor standards of the DSM, and even within the profession is considered by many as yet another "wastebasket" category (though as Bourne ruefully remarks, the ambiguity of such personality disorders makes them particularly useful in policing deviance in the new century). One member of the DSM-III task force stated at the time of constructing BPD that "in my opinion, the borderline syndrome stands for everything that is wrong with psychiatry [and] the category should be eliminated". The chair of the task force, Robert Spitzer, admitted with the publication of DSM-III that BPD was only included in the manual due to pressures from psychoanalytically oriented clinicians who found it useful in their practices. Such practices have been documented by Luhrmann who describes psychiatrists' typical view of the BPD patient as "an angry, difficult woman—almost always a woman—given to intense, unstable relationships and a tendency to make suicide attempts as a call for help.' Bearing significant similarities to the feelings of nineteenth century psychiatrists towards hysterics, Luhrmann's study reveals psychiatrists' revulsion of those they label with a personality disorder: they are "patients you don't like, don't trust, don't want . . . One of the reasons you dislike them is an expungable sense that they are morally at fault because they choose to be different." Becker reinforces this general view of the BPD label when she states that "[t]here is no other diagnosis currently in use that has the intense pejorative connotations that have been attached to the borderline personality disorder diagnosis." A bitter irony for those labelled with BPD is that many are known to have experienced sexual abuse in childhood, something they share in common with many of those Freud labelled as hysterical a century earlier; a psychiatric pattern of depoliticising sexual abuse by ignoring the (usually) male perpetrator, and instead pathologising the survival mechanisms of the victim as abnormal.
By the mid-1980s, the hysteria diagnosis had disappeared from the clinical setting while BPD had become the most commonly diagnosed personality disorder. BPD is now the most important label which psychiatric hegemony invokes to serve capital and patriarchy through monitoring and controlling the modern woman, reinforcing expected gender roles within the more fluid, neoliberal environment. Nevertheless, as Jimenez (emphasis added) reminds us, the historical continuity from hysteria to BPD is clear: "Both diagnoses delimit appropriate behavior for women, and many of the criteria are stereotypically feminine. What distinguishes borderline personality disorder from hysteria is the inclusion of anger and other aggressive characteristics, such as shoplifting, reckless driving, and substance abuse. If the hysteric was a damaged woman, the borderline woman is a dangerous one."
Bruce M.Z. Cohen, Psychiatric Hegemony: A Marxist Theory of Mental Illness
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kazoo-world · 7 days
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okay. i debated not posting this because I was worried I’d get death threats (that says a lot doesn’t it) but it needs to be said, because its upsetting me.
a woman who publicly says she feels very sane and has “never been to therapy” and who breaks up with her boyfriend in part because he can’t just “”get over”” his depression to love her the way she wants/needs does not.
I repeat, does not.
get to use the imagery she did in her fortnight video.
I’ve been seeing gifsets and screenshots all day of her chained to a bed but ~aesthetic~ and being fed a pill after a cheeky side eye and strapped to a glamourfied ECT machine and no one has said anything about it so I will. those images are genuinely triggering for me.
people have been restrained, forcefed pills, and given electroconvulsive therapy or subjected to the electric chair for severe mental illness against their will. these are not fun props anyone gets to throw around to express that they feel depressed or in a “manic phase” or like they were “raised in an asylum.”
she doesn’t know how a real asylum fried my grandmother’s brain or real cops restrained me because I was psychotic and manic. she doesn’t know what it feels like to be dehumanised that way.
do better. demand she do better, too.
edit: I say that this content is triggering to say that it causes real harm. I do still have a responsibility to myself to curate an internet experience for myself. this does not negate her responsibility to avoid replicating harmful tropes in art which is deeply influential. she does not get to co-opt institutionalization or psychiatric violence as a romanticized aesthetic or as a metaphor because real people like myself have suffered greatly under the things she is representing as glamorous or cool. institutionalization silences and violates mentally ill people in a way that marginalizes them, and that experience should be treated with sensitivity and care rather than being commodified to reduce stigma. if she had experienced these things, I might feel differently, but other ableist content on the record and her statements on her life and art indicate otherwise. she is a woman with immense privilege and power and should not be using that privilege and power to punch down on mental illness.
edit 2: I turned off reblogs for my mental health, but I want you all to know I have seen your criticism. I will not edit the post but I do respect that she has had mental health struggles since that outdated quote. That is my mistake, I own that. My apologies.
However, mental health struggles =/ experience with psychiatric violence. Experiences of mental illness are heterogenous. Aestheticizing, romanticizing, and glamourizing mental hospitals is straight up gross regardless of your experience with mental illness. It’s tasteless and offensive.
I do understand metaphors. I think that her calling her life an asylum as a metaphor is in poor taste. I think her representing her relationship struggles with the imagery of a mental institution is insensitive given the impacts that real asylums and mental hospitals have had on my life and the lives of many others like me, so I had to say something about it.
It’s ableist to assume that critics of your fav “can’t read”, “don’t understand a metaphor” or “don’t have brains” when they clearly demonstrate that they are thinking critically. Do better.
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ithebookhoarder · 6 months
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Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 
A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅
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Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 
Masterlist
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There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.
They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.
Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.
Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.
Then Eloise had come along.
As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.
Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.
Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.
So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.
“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”
It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.
You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.
She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.
“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”
“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”
“Traitor.”
“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”
“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”
“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”
“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”
“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”
“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”
“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”
“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”
The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”
The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”
“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”
“I told you.”
“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”
“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.
If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.
“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”
“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”
“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”
“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”
“Oh … joy.”
“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”
“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”
“How about… truth or dare?”
Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“
“But Benedict-“
“What’s truth or dare?”
Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.
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Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.
By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.
Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)
You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.
You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.
That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  
Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.
“Now that… was fun.”
“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”
“Told you it was a good idea.”
You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.
“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”
“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”
“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”
Benedict’s jaw dropped.
“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.
“I have my sources.”
Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.
“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”
With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.
And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.
How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  
“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”
You all froze.
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It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.
“Oh, darling. You’re home?”
“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”
“I went for a swim.”
“A - you went for a -“
“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”
Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.
In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.
You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.
“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”
“What game?”
“Pardon?”
“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”
No one moved.
No one even breathed.
It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.
“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”
“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”
Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.
“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.
The silence was instantaneous. 
No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 
You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 
If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 
It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 
“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 
A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 
It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 
You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 
Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 
You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 
“Is that so?”
Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”
Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 
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Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 
In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 
Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.
If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 
You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 
You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 
Hard.
“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 
“Oh?” you croaked. 
You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 
Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.
“Is he still there?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 
You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...
With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 
To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  
“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 
“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”
“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 
“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”
“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”
You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 
However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 
You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 
Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 
In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 
“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”
“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”
Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 
“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 
“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”
“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 
You remembered what you’d forgotten. 
The chair.
“Anthony, wait-!”
The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 
No one moved. 
No one said a word. 
Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”
4K notes · View notes
motherlvr · 11 months
Text
3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader
SPOILERS FOR ATSV
read part 2 here!
3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.
Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)
A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out
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1.
Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.
"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.
Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.
"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.
After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.
It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.
After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"
Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.
You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.
2.
Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.
Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.
While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.
"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."
Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"
Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.
You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.
You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.
3.
If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.
"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.
"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.
"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.
You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.
The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.
You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.
Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.
+1
Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.
Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.
As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.
Oh, great. It's the Prowler.
This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.
As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.
I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.
"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.
You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.
The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.
"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.
He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.
His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."
Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.
"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.
His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.
Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.
“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.
"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.
"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.
When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.
Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.
"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.
Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.
He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.
Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.
---------
part 2!
5K notes · View notes
byuntrash101 · 3 months
Text
the good friend
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f!reader x san x mingi ft ateez smut | mdni 3.4k san has known about mingi’s crush on his girlfriend for a while now. he also happens to be a very good and caring friend who values their friendship very much. and san would do just about anything to help a friend nsfw tags under the cut
a lil plot, idol!au, established relationship, bf san, mingi is the simp master, also rengoku hair mingi because i miss him, alcohol consumption (but consent is unquestionable), safe word mentionned but not used, pet names, (baby, princess, sannie...), unprotected sex (recommanded by 0/10 dentists), wall sex, semi public sex (full dorm hallway sex), exhbitionism/voyeurism, dirty talk, slight breath play (gentle), masturbation (f & m), controlled orgasm (f)
a/n: OMGGGG THIS ONE IS JUST SDMLKSQDMMSQLKKFF. i kinda like how turned out because im feral and shameless when it comes to these men. if you like it PLEASE TELL ME i might make a part 2 👀
@shinestarhwaa for you boo <3
sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation
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It’s funny how Mingi is still stuck in this same situation years later, he thought while staring at you from across the kitchen table. When he first saw you 5 years ago, your back leaned against the company building, eyes glued to your phone, he thought of how pretty you were but he was late for practice again and he knew he was going to be scolded by Hongjoong so he just hurried himself in.
This encounter should have been left at that, he would have forgotten about you the next day and he would be at peace right now. 
But no.
You were still waiting there when he got out much much later at night, sweaty, tired and starving. He took a look at you again but this time you lifted your face from the screen of your phone and your eyes met. He didn’t know why he was flustered and cursed himself silently when he whipped his head to the side, quickly breaking eye contact. But despite the uninviting body language you took the first step in his direction. It took everything he had in him not to stumble back and stand his ground in the most natural way he could muster given his current state.
‘Hmm… Excuse me?” you started hesitantly, “Hmm… I’m looking for…” Mingi was all ears and eyes for you, focussing on your every move and word. In that split instant he noticed the color of your eyes, the soft texture of your hair and the mesmerizing way your lips moved to form words, that made sentences which he was supposed to listen to and he was arguably doing a poor job. But right when he was losing focus you were interrupted.
“Y/N!!” San’s voice resonated from the entryway. You whipped your head in the direction of the voice and turned away from Mingi with the most radiant and heavenly smile he had ever seen. 
“Nevermind. Thank you” you said quickly before running to San’s side. 
Mingi stood there for a second completely stunned as he watched the pair of you walking away, San’s hand reaching for yours right before you disappeared at the intersection. 
The next day San made him promise not to tell anyone he saw you waiting for him. He didn’t tell him exactly you were his girl but Mingi was smart enough to figure that out on his own.
And that should have been the end of the story. You should have remained San’s secret girlfriend and Mingi would have forgotten about you and your perfect smile in a week or two…
But once again… no. It did not go that way.
Over the years it got worse. You both grew, you weren’t 18 anymore. You grew into a beautiful, stunning woman and Mingi grew into a man. And you even became friends. With the years you got to meet the rest of Ateez. You became friends with all of them but you were closest to Mingi without a doubt, much to his disarray.
That’s exactly how he came to stare at you from across the kitchen table as you were leaning your head on San’s broad shoulder, barely holding your head up as you had one too many bottles of grapefruit soju. San was gently caressing your flushed cheek.
Everybody was laughing, drinking and enjoying themselves, but Mingi who was also slightly drunk just couldn’t stop staring at you, stealing glances at you through his eyelashes. To the others he looked like he was zoning out like he usually does after a drink or two but in fact he was focussing on you. Precisely on your neck and the sleeve of your top slowly sliding off your shoulder. The large and rounded neckline of your loose oversized top was barely hanging to the edge of your shoulder at this point and if you moved even in the slightest it would completely expose your shoulder. To everyone present that wasn’t a big deal. Nobody had even noticed apart from Mingi. And when you lift your head up again to bark at Wooyoung that was making fun of you for being a lightweight it happened.
The tired sleeve gave in. Mingi had a front row seat on your delicate collar bone and the smooth skin of your shoulder lightly shiny. If only that was it he could have handled it but the large neck line was also hanging very low on your chest so low that his eyes were rapidly forgetting about your shoulder to solely focus on your chest. His eyes scanned the shadow of your cleavage, the ceiling light was casting on you, he imagined how your breasts would feel in his large palms, how soft your skin would be and how your nipples would taste on his tongue.
He thought so much that he started pitching a tent in his large cargo pants. The tent of shame like he liked to call it. The tent he tried to fight off so many times because San was one of his best friends… And you were… his.
That thought broke his own heart.
“Well! I’m swamped, guys. I’m going to bed” he declared getting up, both fists stuffed in his large pockets concealing the “shame”.
The others grumbled to make him stay. They were having a nice time but honestly he just wanted to catch a break from his own heart and hop into the shower.
San knew exactly why he wanted to leave. He had known for a while about Mingi’s feelings for you. In reality everyone knew except for two people. One was Mingi who thought he was so good at concealing himself when in reality he was staring at you like a puppy all day and the other one was yourself. You just never noticed because to you Mingi was a friend, an attractive friend, granted! But a friend nonetheless. You didn’t think further than that. To you the idea of him having feelings for you was so far-fetched that the thought never entered the realm of possibilities.
Once Mingi had decided to go, the members followed one by one, Hongjoong was the second one. At the end only Wooyoung and Yeosang were playing a drinking game while you and San crashed on the couch. 
San was absentmindedly playing with your hair when he caught your hand dangerously slipping below his belt. He gripped your wrist firmly, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
“Y/n~~” he quietly singsang. He knew that was going to happen. Alcohol had only one single effect on you. It made you horny. Without fail, whenever you all gathered like this and drank, it made you feral. And today San felt mischievous.
***
Mingi exhaled a big sigh before stepping in the shower, the hot water running on his large back helped him take his mind off the chatter and laughter erupting from the living room at the end of the hall for a while he just glided the soap across his body. The hot air made him dizzy. He felt the warm water on his face letting the stream run down his hair. As he closed his eyes, flashes of you came back to him. 
Your cute flushed face, eyelids half closed, your eyes made sparkly from the soju, this adorable dorky smile you wore all evening, the exposed patch of skin, the neckline of your top hanging so low on your chest. He wondered without even realizing about the way he would have loved to lay you down on that table right there. Peeling your clothes one by one, taking his sweet time admiring your body slowly giving away all its secrets. 
He felt himself becoming hard again. He kept his eyes shut as he guided the soapy foam along his half hard member. 
He dreamed about the melodic wet sounds you would make when he would slide inside you, about the way you would grip him so perfectly, about how your eyes would roll back and your lips would lazily hang open as you lost yourself to his cock, abandoning yourself to him, only him.
He gripped his length even tighter, rapidly dragging his fist up and down his shaft, turning his tip bright red from his arousal and the hot water.
He thought even harder about your hands muffling your high pitched moans shamefully as his powerful thrusts rocked your body under him.
Fuck he wants to see you like that, he wants to have you like that he thought as he drove himself crazy, on the verge of bursting. He felt himself twitch in his hand, precum and soap mixing perfectly making this sinful act easier than ever. 
“Fuck” he grunted considering to finally let himself go but at the last second he opted out of it. He suddenly let go of the aching organ, twitching and pulsing, hot and dripping red tip begging for release.
But Mingi just couldn’t keep doing that anymore. Just seeing you in the day act like your friend and fuck himself to the thought of you at night. He had to somehow snap out of this trance, break free from the spell you casted on him five years ago back in Gang-nam.
After five years he had to come to the realization that you were with San and you would never be with him.
So without thinking twice Mingi turned the water from scolding hot to icy. That had two purposes: one calming his raging boner and two taking his mind off the painful reality he had to accept. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and hissed in discomfort at the sudden temperature change. But it was efficient enough.
He quickly dried off and wrapped the wet towel around his waist. He crossed the living room to head out to the hall where San's room and his were. But when he entered the hall…
“Please”
Immediately he hid behind the corner of the L shaped hall out of pure instinct. That kind of sounded like… you?
“Please” you whimpered again. 
This time there was no doubt it was in fact your voice. 
“Can’t we do it in your room?” you asked, your voice interrupted by muffled moans.
“No I wanna take you right here” San responded, determined.
“But what if Mingi comes back from his shower?”
San smirked. That was exactly his intention but he just chuckled and brushed off the question. 
“Also if you really didn’t want to do it here. You’d use the safe word, right baby?” San’s smirk grew bigger as you stayed silent. “Wanna use the safe word baby?”
“No…” you admitted half heartedly.
“That’s what I thought” he said brushing his tip against you.
San wanted to be caught. He couldn't explain it properly but recently he started thinking about maybe offering Mingi some kind of relief. Because he’s had that huge crush on you for so long it must be really troublesome for him, right? So this little show for him was kind of a way to blow some steam off for him. Yeah! That’s right! San was doing that out of the goodness of his heart, out of friendship! Because he cared oh so dearly about his friend and not because the idea of having an audience flipped a switch in him. A flip he’s been fantasizing about for a while now.
“Spread your legs” San whispered. 
Mingi’s heart rattled against his ribs and rang in his ears. He held his chest as he didn’t even dare to breathe, not to mention move a single muscle.
“Babygirl” San started his lips pressed against the thin skin of your neck. “You’re already this wet for me”
His fingers brushed against your center, still clothed but already soaking wet.
“Were you touching yourself at the table again?” 
You nodded shyly. You just couldn’t help getting incredibly horny every time you had a drink.
“Yes” you admitted in a shameful whisper.
“What a naughty girl. Passing the blush as an effect of the alcohol when in fact you're touching yourself under the table despite your boyfriend’s friends gathered all around you.” you whined. “Maybe it’s even exactly why you couldn’t resist the urge huh baby?”
Mingi bit his lip, trying his hardest not to gasp. To think that you busied your hands into your folds while he was eyeing your exposed chest. And to think maybe, just maybe, you exposed yourself on purpose?
“Please… Sannie…” you begged again.
Mingi was going crazy. This whole time he was just leaning his bare back on the wall, dampened locks of hair, trailing water down his body. He couldn’t see anything he didn’t dare to move a muscle but fuck did he want to have a peek. Before he could even realize the raging boner was back on. Forcefully pulling up the towel he had tied around his hips.
“I love it when you beg baby” San whispered, lips pressed to your blazing skin.
Me too. 
Mingi thought so loud he was scared you would both hear him. One hand instinctively traveled to his engorged member, giving it a firm squeeze at the base while the other hand was pushing his flaming red and yellow hair back.
“Please… I can’t wait anymore” you said, granting your boyfriend’s wish.
“Please what, baby?” San teased again as he pushed your panties to the side. You hissed when you felt his tip brush against your bare pussy, digging your nails in his broad back.
“Cock!” you hurriedly replied, lust filling your mind. So eager you could barely form intelligible sentences “I want your cock” you demanded in a strangled whisper, hardly keeping your voice down.
Mingi had fought the idea of you against his own mind too many times today. He won at the dinner table and he won again in the shower but this battle… Knowing you there begging to be filled to the brim, exposed for anyone who might stumble across the sinful scene… He couldn’t fight that. He had to look. He had to see you.
So he dared. He dared to peek, just enough to have a look. Just one eye is all it took. And he saw…
He saw the both of you entangled into each other, both facing one another, your back pressed against the wall while San gripped your hips firmly with one hand and lifted one of your legs up with the other to grant himself access to your beautiful and soaked little pussy. He saw his friend’s smirk and eyebrow twitch as he gently pushed himself into your welcoming folds. But all this was only anecdotal. Because nothing, nothing! could come close to you. Mingi only had eyes -one eye in this case- for you.
He saw how your mouth went agape as you took him in, he saw how you arched your back and rested your head on the wall you were pressed up against. And he heard you trying your hardest not to make a noise and failing so miserably, much to his contentment. 
That sound, that fucking sound. He will never forget.
The raspy sigh you produced, audible bliss dripping from your lips as you refused to close your eyes, taking in the exalted face of your boyfriend.
San spotted from the corner of his eyes the flaming red strands of hair peeking from the angle of the hall. It made him smirk, his little scheme had worked. It made him even more determined to put on a good show for his friend, determined to drag those beautiful sounds out of you until you would beg him to stop. And you could have sworn you felt him grow even bigger inside you.
Without a second thought San settled a pace that was especially designed for you. Deep and slow. Just enough to keep you on edge. With every roll of his hips into yours you felt every single inch of his length deliciously scraping your clenching walls, gripping him desperately.
“Fuckkk” you cried out, biting down on your lower lip.
“You like that baby?” San asked you, the evil twinkle of lust dancing in his eyes.
“Yesss” you sighed, barely holding yourself up on the only leg that was supporting you. 
You gasped as he bottomed out again, this time staying there for a while. You instantly started to rock your hips into his, desperately clinging onto the friction.
“That’s right baby” San growled as his veiny hand left your side to tightly wrap around your narrow neck. “Fuck yourself on my cock”
And you were more than happy to oblige. You lost it at his words, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to coerce you.
Unholy wet squelching noises bounced back on the walls of the narrow hall all the way to Mingi ears. His hands violently pumping up and down his cock, thick slimy precum coating his tip and being dragged with each movement along his shaft. It was so hard not to make any noise but he pulled himself together just so he could keep looking at you.
“Sannie Please… Fuck me harder” the last ounce of bashfullness had evaporated out of your body as the carnal sin was clouding your judgement. “Fuck me senseless” your tone was demanding. You just couldn’t bear it anymore. You wanted to cum. You need to cum.
Mingi can't believe his ears or his eyes or any of his senses as a matter of fact… To hear you say these words with so much drive, so much desire. To see you plead with those sultry eyes… If only he was the one right there between your legs right now. If only he was the one pumping his hot and dripping cock into you until completion. If only he was the one feeling your cunt clench and pulse around him.
“Your wish is my command, Princess” San whispered before he caught your other leg and lifted you up, flipping both your legs onto his shoulders and folding you in two against the wall. And he slid himself right back in. Where was his rightful place. You gasped, this position allowed him to go even deeper and tears started to cloud your vision as his tip so precisely hit on your sensitive spot. Both of your hips perfectly angled to fit inside each other.
“Fuck yessss… j-just like that” you whispered through gritted teeth. “Please don’t stop Sannie”. Your voices shaken with each of San’s violent thrusts. “Fuck I love your cock” you sobbed as your eyes lost their focused and your mind slipped in thick foggy haze. And San chuckled, his eyes leaving yours for a split second to briefly look at the flamboyant orange tuft of hair peeking from the corner of the hall.
Fortunately Mingi was way to focus on you to notice San had spotted him.
Mingi was about to burst but he was determined to cum with you. Picturing your twitching cunt in place of his gripping fist.
You were a couple of thrusts away from coming undone and San knew it. He knew everything about your body. He knew every micro expression, every sound, every queue.
“You’re gonna cum baby?” he asked, short of breath.
“Yessss” you whined, trying hard not to cum on the spot.
“Cum now. Cum on my cock right now” he ordered.
That was what you needed. In a split second you let go of the knot you’ve been desperately hounding on to and completely lose your sanity in an earth shattering orgasm that washes over your body.
Quickly followed by Mingi. Uncontrollably twitching and delivering what felt like gallons of cum in the towel, completely soiling it. Maybe even ruining it forever. It was so good, he never came like this. So good that an ever so audible groan of bliss slipped past his lips and into the world. Instantly he bit his lip and stopped breathing but it was too late.
San also let himself go, a smirk dancing on his lips as he happened to catch the shameful groan. You were unaware of why but that amount of cum was unprecedented and you attributed it to the thrill of the fear of getting caught. But San knew it was simply the joy and fulfillment of being a good friend.
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IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
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a/n: what a ride dskfmkfmdkmfl. you liked it? you want part 2? SPAM MY COMMENTS AND ASKS AND REBLOGS BECAUSE I LOVE READING YOUR REACTIONS MY POOKIES <333 (a threesome in part 2? 👀)
sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation
taglist: @staytiny816 @onysmamas
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sudenlyanime · 5 months
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Taigen’s love confession NEEDS to come before he finds out Mizu is a woman.
Listen. I have given this a lot of thought and the more I think about it, the more I’m sure. When looking at Mizu and Mikio’s marriage, we can see how Mikio was in to the idea of a strong woman only so far as he was still stronger than her. This is clear when Mikio insists that he wants to “see all of [mizu]” and insists that they spar; Mikio doesn’t unsheath his blade even though Mizu tell him not to hold back. He assumes he is stronger than her and when this is proven false, like the beta bitch he is, he bails.
But with Taigen it’s different. Mizu and Taigen’s relationship has been a power struggle from the start. Taigen wasn’t introduced to Mizu as a woman or a wife. Taigen has always seen Mizu as a swordsman first. And when the hostility between the two starts to cool, it is because of their mutual admiration of the other’s skill. Mizu’s strength and boldness are what win Taigen over in the first place.
We also see a very important juxtapose between when Mizu pins Mikio to the ground and when she pins Taigen to the ground. In the first instance, Mikio pushes Mizu off him and calls her a monster. He feels put off and emasculated by being overpowered. In the Mizu/Taigen scene, however, once Mizu has Taigen pinned, he stares, awestruck, into Mizu’s eyes and gets a raging hard on. Instead of feeling emasculated, Taigen get so aroused that he has a full blown bi awakening.
So we know that Taigen is different to Mikio in that he is attracted to Mizu BECAUSE she can kick his ass, not in spite of it. But Mizu has been burned before. Badly. So if Taigen were to confess his feelings and tell Mizu that her strength is what he adores most about her, she’d be like, “right, sure, heard that one before.” And that’s why Taigen needs to confess his feelings BEFORE he finds out what’s in Mizu’s pants.
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In my daydreaming about a Migen love confession, I find myself reminded of this quote. How Mikio was like the exotic bird collector. He only liked the idea of Mizu knowing her way around a sword so long as at the end of the day, he can still put her back into the caged-in roll of the house wife.
Taigen is also guilty of this with Akemi. I sure there is still no small amount of attraction and love between them, but I think Taigen pursues Akemi mostly out of the personal fable he has written about himself; the poor fisherman’s son who raises himself up to be the star of his Dojo and then marries a princess. He might not have wanted to cage Akemi as much as other men would have, but he still sees her as the exotic bird. The prize. And thats why I can’t ship them.
But with Mizu it’s different. Taigen even admits that Mizu is a better fighter than him. He KNOWS he could never cage her and by the end on the first season he strops trying, opting to stand beside her instead of against her (“it’s your fight, so it’s mine” 😭) So when he does confess his feelings, he has to do is as one man to another and make it clear to Mizu that her strength is what he loves most and that he would never want her to be anything less then the superior swordsman she is.
Only then will Mizu have a chance of believing that Taigen wants to be with her, not to subdue her into a wifely role, but to stand beside her in all her greatness. If Taigen’s confession were to come after he finds out she’s a woman, Mizu might just think, “oh, NOW you want to be with me, cause you think just because I’m a woman I’ll eventually submit to you.” Mizu needs to know she is loved AS SHE IS.
Also, I just think it would be HILLARIOUS if Taigen confesses, and Mizu is like, “ well then….. I guess I should let you know…” and then Taigen spends the rest of the episode with his mind fucking BLOWN and complaining that he has spent the last several months coming to terms with the fact that he is attracted to another man only to find out the man he is attracted to is a woman! He goes through a whole bi awakening for nothing!
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anashins · 5 months
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Five Times a Day
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Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: angst, romance, smut
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: After Jaehyun's ex drops the fact that they have once done it five times a day, you are eager to keep this record up.
A/N: Retroactive jealousy is real and this is me processing this problem. Maybe some of you can relate - remember: We're in this together and are stronger than our insecurities!
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You sipped on your smoothie, barely listening to your friends who were excitedly talking across each other. Under usual circumstances, you would have been able to enjoy this gathering among you girls, but today… not at all. 
In fact, you were in a sulk. And it was all because of a guest from a past you had deemed forgotten already.
“By the way…” Said guest suddenly turned to you with a feigned, overly sweet smile. “How is Jaehyun?”
You rolled your eyes, refusing to look into the face of the girl who had just asked you this question. You had known she would eventually come up with this topic. After all, your boyfriend, Jaehyun, was her ex boyfriend. Justifiably his ex, though!
She had gone behind his back and cheated on him with his friend. It had been you who had mended his broken heart with no ulterior motives in the beginning, but after that cruel woman had moved away, it had evolved into something that the both of you had underestimated.
You had given him time, treated him with nothing other than patience and understanding, until one day, he had been able to move on with you who had no intention of hurting him in the same manner ever again.
“He’s perfectly fine, we’re so happy,” was your equally overly sweet reply.
Your best friend’s nudge into your side with her elbow pulled you out of your sulking attitude as she was silently begging you to get a grip of yourself. You just shrugged, reminding her that you had only tagged along because you were nosy and wanted to boast, and that you had no intention of being friendly. You just couldn’t have missed this opportunity to see how she was doing, no matter how much you resented her.
Jaehyun’s ex had been in your friend group back then and was now in the city for a few days, so everyone had accepted her invitation to meet up to reminisce about the old times - including you and your big ego. You slowly regretted it, even though you had only come to brag to her how much happier he was with you. It was just so exhausting to be fake-friendly.
But to prove to your best friend that you were ready to compromise, you added sharply with triumph in your voice, “We live together now.”
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” the ex’s voice echoed through the café as she clapped into her hands. “I also have a new boyfriend with whom I live with!”
The other girls congratulated her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so as well. All you could think of was whether that guy was also a poor soul she would soon destroy. That was until she mentioned something else that only you could probably hear.
“Now that we live together, we do it like five times a day.” She chuckled, lowered her voice and leaned in to you. “Jaehyun has been able to do just as much. Say, does he still live up to it? You must for sure know.”
You resented her so much.
____
First
You woke up way before Jaehyun when the sun shone right into your face as you had forgotten to pull the curtains together the night before.
It was almost 7 in the morning, and soon, your alarm would go off so that you would only see each other again later that evening when you came back home from work. You were determined to beat the clock before that would happen.
With much caution, you lifted the blanket and crawled under the duvet to Jaehyun’s side of the bed. He only groaned when you accidentally leaned on his shin, but you were still able to settle on his legs under the blanket without waking him up fully. 
You reached out your hand and stroked the small mound under his pajama bottoms. It didn’t take long for that mound to turn into a firm bulge and for Jaehyun to react to your stroking with his thighs moving against your palm.
You didn't know whether he was awake yet or not from under the covers, but you liked the thought of this exact uncertainty. To push this act further, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his bottoms and dragged the fabric downwards to the point where you could get a hold of his member and pull it out entirely.
Your fingers wrapped around Jaehyun’s length and you started moving them along his shaft until it stood nearly parallelly to his stomach. Sitting yourself up to be able to tug your own panties down, you shuffled forwards and guided his tip to your entrance.
When you slowly sank down onto him, you heard a loud moan from the other side of the blanket that was still covering you. Tight hands gripping onto your bum when you had taken him in fully, confirmed to you that your boyfriend was now awake - and ready for whatever was to come.
“Good morning,” you whispered, your head now peeking out from under the duvet.
Your boyfriend was still lying on his back with his eyes closed, but you still perceived his sensual and exciting expression as he licked over his lips and groggily fluttered his lids open.
With a grin, Jaehyun greeted you hoarsely, “‘morning.”
Your palms were placed flat onto his chest as the blanket slipped over your shoulders along your back and revealed your upper body that was only covered in your silken top. To Jaehyun, this was a sight he couldn’t get enough of, jolting him entirely awake now.
You put your weight on your forearms, just enough for you to lift your hips and come down at him again. Not much later, your moans filled the entire room, sunlight dancing across your skins on whichever part was currently in the right angle as you bobbed up and down on him.
Your back arched, your hair falling over your shoulder blades in long, silken streaks as the strands simultaneously moved to the rhythm you applied to Jaehyun’s groin. Not much later, your skin was glistening with sweat and you fell limply on your boyfriend’s chest as you had run out of strength.
Putting his arms around you, Jaehyun hurried you along until you bit into his shoulder to suppress your scream as you shook in his embrace. Shortly after, when you slowly calmed down, it was his turn. With his fingers entangled in your hair, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, faltering between every syllable as he came.
You had never doubted that Jaehyun loved you very much. You had been very sure that he loved you even more than when he was the happiest with his ex-girlfriend.
But now, you weren’t quite so sure anymore. 
Not even when he took his time and risked being late to work just to cuddle with you in the aftermath.
____
Second
“What are you doing here?”
Jaehyun looked at you with very much surprise from across his desk when you closed the door behind you. You had visited him a few times at his workplace already, to bring him food or quickly say hello when you had been in the neighborhood - but never with such an intention.
The fabric of your trenchcoat felt cold on your skin as you wore nothing underneath other than the lingerie that you had actually wanted to save for your anniversary celebration. But until then, you had decided, you would buy a new set and use this one for this certain occasion.
Jaehyun couldn’t believe his eyes when you opened the coat’s belt across your waist and flashed him the sexiest set of red underwear that he had hopefully ever seen in his life. You physically watched his jaw drop and him taking off and then putting on again his glasses just to make sure that what he was currently witnessing was, indeed, real.
“Today is not my birthday, right?” You saw him gulp as his Adam’s apple moved along his neck, and you had to suppress a chuckle catching him so off guard. “Then I must be dreaming.”
“You’re not,” you answered and approached him in your heels that were also new. “Today is just your lucky day.”
“Then can every day be my lucky day?”
When you stood right in front of him after he had come forward from his seat, you let the trenchcoat slide down your shoulders, revealing the new bra fully, and your boyfriend couldn’t take his eyes off of you once again. 
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered before his head disappeared between your breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“Then show me,” you challenged him. “Show me how much you want me. Right here and now.”
… and not her, you added silently in your mind, but pushed this intrusive thought right aside, because you wanted to live in this moment with Jaehyun and no one else.
“Very well,” he agreed and helped you take off the trenchcoat.
You were allowed to keep wearing your lingerie when Jaehyun grabbed you by your buttocks and placed your legs around either side of his hips just so that he could carry you. With one swift motion, he had turned you to his desk and kept you in place with one arm while the other reached out and threw everything in his reach from the desk onto the floor. 
Then, he placed you on the surface and parted your thighs with his hips. The moment he loosened his tie was the moment you lost it too, because, once again, it hit you out of nowhere how perfect your boyfriend was and that you actually shouldn’t care who had been with before and what he had done with that person.
Jaehyun was all yours when he slipped his fingers into your lace panties and pushed them into you to collect the fluids inside of you as you had gotten so wet already. He was all yours, when he dragged his hand along your folds and caused you to shudder with this motion only as they reached your clit. 
And he was also all yours when you couldn’t bear it for much longer and put your heels up on either side right on top of the desk to give him better access to enter you.
You were laying flat on the surface with your elbows propped up for support so that you could watch him thrust right into you. Jaehyun’s hair swung with each push and grew damp over time on the tips that touched his sweaty forehead. His fingers were still buried into your upper thighs so that no thrust would go astray, and when he looked up, you encountered this hungry look in his eyes.
He was long not done, and you only hoped that his short lunch break was enough for what he had still in store for you.
And as you were finally letting yourself go too, lying back down on the desk and moaning his name just loud enough to not to travel to the other offices, you wondered if he had done something like this before just by the way he knew what to do and how to enjoy it.
____
Third
You had set up a fancy dinner for Jaehyun later that evening. After having surprised him at his office, you had gone straight back to your own workplace and finished earlier to buy and prepare his favorite food.
By the time he was home, you had the appetizer and steak with side dishes ready, and even though you had been in a hurry to fix dinner, you were pretty impressed with how everything had turned out. After all, today, everything had to be perfect for this mission.
“Are you sure it’s not my birthday or another important date that I forgot about?”
Jaehyun raised a brow when he saw that you had set up the whole atmosphere with fancy crockery, cutlery and even lightened up candles. Usually, on weekdays, when you both had to work, you just threw something easy and light together and ate on the couch in front of the TV.
“Can’t I just do something nice for my boyfriend when I have the day off?”
“I mean… I’m not complaining. But this is the third nice thing you’re doing for me today. What did I do to deserve this?”
You put your hands around his neck and shook your head. “You’re just being you. Isn’t that enough.”
You got on your tiptoes to kiss him and were already looking forward to serving him dessert. And with “dessert” you didn’t mean ice cream or cake, because you had not prepared such. With “dessert” you meant having Jaehyun right under you at your mercy not even an hour later.
“Stop, stop!” Jaehyun breathed and stretched out his hand to gently lay it on the top of your head.
With a slurping sound, you let go of him and looked up to your boyfriend who was spread out on the couch underneath you. 
“You don’t like it?” you worried, because Jaehyun actually never said no to getting head. Again, you wondered what you did wrong and if he had ever said no to his ex. You bet not.
He cupped your face and softly pulled you up to him so that you were now hovering over his chest. “That’s not what I mean,” he grinned and kissed your smudged lips. “You did so much for me today, let me do something for you too.”
Not much later, you were a writhing, whiny mess, legs locked between Jaehyun’s head while he licked you like you were his literal dessert after this feast. You had cum twice in a row already and were thinking that if he wouldn’t stop now, you wouldn’t have much energy for the real deal soon.
“Already out of breath?” 
“Please… I just want you inside of me,” you begged.
“Very well.”
He took you on all fours from behind this time, fingers entangled in your hair and pulling you back every now and then to either kiss you or groan lewd words into your ear that made you blush slightly. In no way would one assume your boyfriend had this side to him if one were to meet him on the streets. 
How lucky you were. 
And other girls before that too, apparently.
But again, you pushed that thought aside when Jaehyun smacked your cheek and you let out a shriek that blended with your orgasm in the exact same moment. Pain and pleasure became indistinguishable, and that made it even more exciting as you experienced a high that only seldomly occurred. 
When you laid with your sweaty bodies chest to chest, you came to the conclusion that it probably truly didn’t matter what had ever been before you when the present was so beautiful. 
You didn’t want your insecurities to get the better of you, but your boyfriend was so perfect that you constantly wondered if one day, he would have enough of you if you couldn’t give the best like he deserved.
____
Fourth
“No.”
Your heart sank and you directly pulled your dressing gown close again. Underneath it, you wore a negligee that only rarely got put into use, but for the fourth time today, you wanted to present it to Jaehyun when he returned from the bathroom.
You only had two more times to go, you assumed you could get it done right now.
Your disappointment and shock were very visibly written all over your face though, and immediately, your boyfriend started to apologize.
“Look…” He seated himself next to you on the bed and looked at you with apologetic eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up over this! I really appreciate everything you did today, but it was a long day overall for me and I have to get up early again tomorrow. I just can’t keep up anymore today. It was great three times, but I’m physically at my end too and I really need to sleep soon.”
You didn’t want to say it. You truly didn’t. But your impulsive part had gotten the upper hand as all your feelings that you had been suppressing throughout the day boiled down to this one sentence,
“I bet you didn’t say that to your ex when you did it five times a day.”
For an unusually long time, Jaehyun stayed quiet and you feared that you had sabotaged your relationship at this point. 
“I knew there was something up with you,” he eventually said. “You shouldn’t have gone to that gathering, even though the other girls are still friends with her.”
“But I did, because I’m nosy and foolish.” You paused. “Are you mad now?”
“Yes.” Your heart dropped, but before you could defend yourself, Jaehyun continued, “I’m mad because you have let her confuse and make you question our relationship based on… what?”
Ruefully, you confessed, “She said that you had sex five times a day.” You sensed how he repressed laughter that was deeper than usual, so he wasn’t making fun. “What is it? Is it not true?”
Honestly, perhaps you should have asked Jaehyun before reacting blindly out of impulse, because after all, this cheating girl was a liar. But sadly, he dismissed your glimpse of hope.
“We did.” Jaehyun’s head dropped at the same moment as your heart. “This is true.”
“Oh…” 
You knew the person you should be angry at was yourself, not Jaehyun or his ex. You hadn’t been romantically involved at that time, it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with you. But you couldn’t help but to compare yourself to her over and over again. 
What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just switch this off? Why was there no button connected to your feelings?
Something warm suddenly touched your hand, and it was Jaehyun’s, taking yours into his. You didn’t dare to look up, that was how ashamed you felt for yourself. 
“It was only one time,” he started calmly. “There was a snowstorm outside, so it was dangerous for her to go home. She stayed an entire day and night, that was when it happened. And do you know why it happened?”
You shrugged. You were unsure whether you actually wanted to know all the details to feed your insecurities even more.
“Don’t worry, the answer won’t be as you expect.” Jaehyun squeezed your hands and continued with a patient, tender tone, “The reason wasn’t because I found her more beautiful or hotter than you. Believe me, you are the only one for me. I cannot even look at other women and not think ‘Wow, I got the most beautiful girl out of all the girls in the world. She’s so perfect, I’m so lucky!’” Your cheeks were burning, but you kept listening diligently. “The reason was because we literally had nothing to talk about.”
Now, you lifted your head and faced your boyfriend who encouragingly smiled at you. He was sincere, you saw it clearly in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that whenever we spent so much time with each other, we never had something to talk about. We had absolutely no common interests or topics of which we felt the need to engage in. The only attraction we had was a physical one, so when we were forced to stay with each other so long, there was nothing else that we could do.”
Jaehyun let go of your fingers and wrapped his hands around your waist instead to pull you into his warm lap, and you let him.
"Absolutely nothing?” you wanted to make sure. This indeed surprised you.
He chuckled ironically. “Yes, absolutely nothing.”
“But we always talk non stop.”
“I know.” You felt his full lips pressing into your cheek and smiled. “We are not only physically connected, but emotionally as well. Isn’t that beautiful? Do you know how much that is worth and that some people seek for a connection like ours an entire lifetime? I enjoy physical contact with you just as much as our conversations and laughter. There is no need to fill a void, because there is none in the first place.”
You had never thought that Jaehyun felt like that and it touched your heart very deeply. “When I heard her saying this, I was worried you would soon be bored with me if I couldn’t keep up.”
“No, don’t ever think that!” Jaehyun drew you close to his chest and you laid your head on his shoulder. “Our love came unexpectedly for each of us, and I think we both had to learn that the right love was calm and steady, not these highs and lows with many fights. This is how it’s supposed to be, don’t let it make you feel unsure because you’re not used to it too. We’re here now, we shouldn’t look back.”
Hearing this from him set your mind at ease. It made many things better that were here temporarily, but you were also aware that in order to fight any doubts you were holding against your relationship, you had to fight your inner demons first. 
It couldn’t be done in a day, but you would work hard, taking one step at a time and just believe in your boyfriend who assured you every day in many ways that his feelings were true and unwavering, no matter how big the demon had grown at this point. 
“I love you, Jaehyun.”
“Of course I love you too.” He chuckled. “You make me laugh, you defend me, you fight me, you challenge me, and whenever I’m at my wit’s end, you bring me back to life. This is worth so much more and there is no one else I can ever imagine being with again. To me, you’re perfect.”
“Funny,” you whispered as you felt him pressing a kiss onto your parting. “I always think that about you too.”
There was no need for a fourth or fifth time.
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fellthemarvelous · 2 months
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Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
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Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
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Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
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He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
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He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
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That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
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As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
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It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
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To shades of grey.
966 notes · View notes
discworldwitches · 5 months
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[id: screenshot of a tiktok of a woman with the text: while you’re struggling to pay your rent this month I just want you to remember that israel gets subsidized housing, subsidized groceries, free healthcare, updated infrastructure because the USA and Germany has given them multi billion dollars in citizen tax money.]
this is a dangerous narrative. the “im struggling to pay my rent because of my taxes and my taxes go to subsidize cushy lives in israel” is dangerous and a short logical leap from “jews are stealing our hard earned money. the working class and poor are oppressed by jews.”
and that’s not how the money works, much of it goes towards the military and “aid packages” represent value not liquid cash (so weapons sent are represented in $$$ form.) and the state operates the way above bc ben gurion & co were socialists. plus, as far as i know, things are relatively similar to the uk with high costs of living but subsidized housing, public healthcare etc.
money from germany often does not go whatsoever into the pockets of israeli holocaust survivours (which is what it’s desiginated for as holocaust reparations (and bc companies that significantly contribute to the german GDP collaborated with nazis/used the labour of enslaved jews) ) (NOTE: it's military aid; money to compensate holocaust victims and survivors ended in 2018, which as i mentioned, did not go into individuals pockets) let alone israelis who are not survivours. many holocaust survivours living there live in poverty. there are literally videos of some picking through refuse produce.
it’s deeply heinous that palestinian american & palestinian german taxes go in part towards the weapons used to genocide palestinians including their own families. OP's post is not about that. she is not acknowledging that or really any connection between the USA and the occupation forces. instead OP is making it sound like israelis live comfortable lives with little expenditures off of the backs of american workers which is a few steps away from protocols shit at best. the idea that jews are enslaving or profitting off on those who are not jewish, especially the working class & poor, is textbook antisemitic conspiracy.
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reiderwriter · 7 months
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Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind
Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.
A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))
My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)
To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.
The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.
"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.
"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"
"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."
"So I'm off the case? That's it?"
"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."
"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"
"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.
It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.
"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."
" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.
"Excuse me?"
"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.
" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.
You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.
"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.
"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.
You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.
"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.
–X–
After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.
Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.
Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.
"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.
"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."
You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.
But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"
To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.
From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.
He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.
You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.
Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.
"This is Agent Y/L/N."
"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.
"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"
"I need to talk to Hotch."
"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.
"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.
–X–
It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.
Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.
"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.
"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.
"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.
"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.
"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.
"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.
"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.
Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.
You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.
–X–
It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.
A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.
"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.
"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.
Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.
" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.
"Don't let me stop you, Doc."
"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.
"What?"
"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."
"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."
"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.
"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.
"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.
"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"
"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."
Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.
"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.
"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."
"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."
"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.
"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.
"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.
–X–
The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.
You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.
Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.
"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.
"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.
"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."
The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.
It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.
"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.
"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."
"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.
"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.
–X–
That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.
"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.
"What was what, Y/N?"
"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."
"Did you want me to stay?"
"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."
"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"
"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.
"You'll what?"
Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.
With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.
"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.
"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."
You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.
"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.
"Was this what you wanted, brat?"
"Go fuck yourself."
"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.
"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.
"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.
"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."
With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.
"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"
"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.
"O-One."
"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."
He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.
"Two."
"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."
"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."
"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.
"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.
"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.
" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.
"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.
"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.
Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.
"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."
"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.
"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.
"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."
His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.
"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.
"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.
"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.
"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."
"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.
"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."
"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.
He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.
"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.
"Spencer, I don't hate you."
"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."
"What? Why?"
"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.
"I'm not happy," you joked.
"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.
And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.
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thelesbianpoirot · 6 months
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When you are born female and working class, at a young age you are forced into making "the decision" between working hard for everything you have, or "allowing" yourself to be exploited for money/security. And working class men will present being used as a privilege given to you, that they are deprived of. You can't complain about your job or school as a poor woman without someone saying you could always quit and "start a only fans, start stripping, start fucking guys for money or at best bag a rich man." Time and time again, I am tired from work and someone will suggest that I let a man use my body in some way for "quick easy" cash. Even if I wasn't a stone cold dyke, I have seen the lives of the girls I grew up with that were tricked into thinking that exploitation would easier than working a shitty job like the women in their family, they are miserable, vulnerable, and beaten down by life before their forties. Working class women need career advice, women's unions and help getting into well paying trades, we don't need to be forced into the dichotomy of will-breaking labor or being demeaned, used and owned by men. I need some support for us working class women who will never get that degree, but have so much value to offer the world that has nothing to do with some form of sexual exploitation.
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chuluoyi · 19 days
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only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))
when you loved me
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- zen'in naoya x reader
you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child
genre: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent
note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"How... how could you?"
Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.
Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.
You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?
"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.
His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.
“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”
This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.
The woman he loves has given birth to his child.
You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.
“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”
“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.
His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.
“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”
Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.
You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”
“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”
“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”
All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.
“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.
“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”
“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”
“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?
And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.
So, that's why...
Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.
“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”
That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”
A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.
“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”
Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.
The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.
You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.
“A girl,” you sniffled.
A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.
“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”
Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.
“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”
“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”
“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”
There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.
Now everything clicked.
“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”
Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.
And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.
“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”
“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.
“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”
Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.
“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”
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