#every time i think one is more plausible than the other i remember some stupid or rizzless thing he's done and am again at a loss

[ruushes]

due to poor taste i'll probably do an astarion origin run after finishing nox's playthrough but i don't want to immediately play a rogue again so

[shona22]

Sterek fic rec: October edition (2024) 🐺 ⚓

Each month, I'll be sharing some of my favorite fics (and I'll make sure to backup and download them for safekeeping). Please note that I have a soft spot for darker themes, so warnings and tags will be plentiful - reader discretion advised!

Want specific recs? Feel free to send me an ask with your preferred tropes or genres, and I'll do my best to find some from my bookmarks. 

Pay by the hour, but don't leave so soon by JettieBettie 

"This is the last time," he tells her, heading toward the door.

"That’s what you always say. But I end up wearing his face for you again and again.”

Note: an incredibly hot pwp. I won't spoil much, but it does have an amazing Stiles voice regardless of being so short. 

___

Step towards me, step away by Areiton 

The truth is, he’s been more than a little bit in love with Derek Hale for a long time.

Note: A compelling exploration of an unconventional relationship. Complex characters, angst, and favourite tropes (Derek angsting over age gap, Kate comparisons) lead to a satisfying ending. Worth the read!

___

I found you hidden in plain sight (why'd I take so long?) by Gorgeousgreymatter 

Stiles is pretty sure he’s hallucinating. He’s got to be. There’s no other plausible explanation, he thinks, as he sits on the sidelines of the lacrosse field and feels the cold, hard bench underneath him, the roar of the crowd at his back like the worst white noise machine in the world.

There’s no other reason why he sees it, the hulking, black figure of a wolf peering at him from the treeline behind the bleachers. Its eyes flare in the glaring glow of the stadium lights, but they’re the wrong color, he thinks: blood-moon red instead of cobalt blue, but the familiarity of it all makes his stomach roll and clench.

Note: Gods. Another one my favourite trope, where Derek gets his alpha spark back because of Stiles. The line, the one which had me gnawing my pillow at 3AM:

“Jesus, Stiles. You never stopped being mine, did you?”

___

Somebody that I used to know by Percybyssheshelly

Stiles and Derek have been together for months.

The trouble is, they weren't yesterday.

Note: short, but packs a punch. If you're having a bad day and want some relatively short angst with happy ending fics, this one's for you. 

___

We live (not as we wish to) as we can by Endrversed

“I’m not a closet case,” Derek repeats, teeth gritted.

“Oh, yeah?” Stiles taunts, daring Derek with his eyes. “You coulda fooled me.”

“I’m not – gay.”

Derek spits that word out. Stiles snorts, no humour in it.

“Sure. You’re totally straight, dude. You just get all up in my personal space every time we’re alone. Stare at my lips any time you think no one’s looking. Well, I’m looking, Derek, and I know what you want. I know what you really want is to bend me over and fuck me.”

Derek is a closeted frat boy, and Stiles gets under his skin. Enemies to fuckbuds to <3

Note: Heed the tags. After DBC, I've been craving closeted frat boy Derek with the perfect Stiles voice. This one delivers. Endversed's mastery seals the deal.

___

UST (an unfortunate series of tropes) 

Stiles and Derek sitting in a tree, M-A-R-R-I-E-D.

Wait, what?

Or: Stiles thought he and Derek were finally getting to be bros, and then Deaton had to go and ruin everything with his stupid spell.

Note: Amazing Stiles voice + mature Derek. Re-read worthy! Accidental soul bonding and more - my ultimate tropes. 10/10, left craving more.

___

Stronger in numbers by bloodwrites

Stiles doesn't want to be the Alpha's mate, he doesn't want to be locked up for his own protection, and he's damn sure he doesn't want to be dealing with blood and werewolf parts on a weekly basis, but somehow that's what his life has become.

That's not going to change, unless he can convince Derek to trust Scott and the hunters, because it's the only way they're going to chase the Alpha Pack out of town.

Of course, that only solves two out of three.

Note: please heed ALL the tags. Also, remember, Derek’s somewhat of a certified jerk in this. And yet, somehow, that's the fic’s appeal. It honestly has the feels of a classic 2010-2014 fics, and that makes me eat it up even more. Also, it's HOT. 

___

Werewolf love songs, vol 1 by aggybird. 

Peter decides to use the power of Barry Manilow's music to make Stiles and Derek fall in love.

Meanwhile, there are monsters and stuff, and Stiles and Derek are stupid.

Note: amazing fic very close to my heart. I love meddling uncle Peter, and the gradual progression of their relationship. It's also such a classic early sterek fic, and like the other ones, I'm always starving for it. It's funny and incredible with Stiles’ voice. 

___

Rapture, sweet rapture (won't you put your hands on me) by queerly_it_is

Somewhere in the stringy mesh of his overactive brain cells, Stiles is sure there must be memories of what it was like to not have a totally possessive creeper with a leather fixation for an adopted brother.

Note: please heed the warnings. It's pseudo-incest! 

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hi it’s for the sprint event, prompt 7 with Kuki Shinobu.

She was busy for the day so R had to deal with the gang’s mess in her place.

“Go and take some rest, I’ll do the rest.”

Characters: Kuki Shinobu x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't written for Shinobu in quite a while (I think), so it was nice being able to do it again, especially since I love her.

I hope this matches what you wanted, if you don't like it, feel free to tell me and I'll try again once I find the time/motivation.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Kuki Shinobu

Shinobu was well known to many people in Inazuma, from the normal day to day person that would visit her for advice in one of the many things she had gained expertise in, to police officers that got to see her whenever she had to get the rest of the Arataki-gang out of trouble, respecting her judgment and capability for dishing out punishments enough to let them out each and every time… even if it was just a matter of time until they did something stupid again.

And while it was obvious that you didn’t automatically command the same respect as her just because you were her partner, whoever saw the way you acted and helped her out was likely to see you in a good light and far more willing to do you a favor, especially when you asked in Shinobu’s name.

Shinobu was late. Something that didn’t necessarily mean that anything happened, since there were days where the number of people asking for advice was far too high for her to finish in whatever time she took from her day to tend to them. But considering how you had seen around a dozen soldiers march off in the direction of the “next big event hosted by the Arataki-Gang” just an hour or so ago, you had more than just a few doubts that nothing had happened.

So when you heard the front door finally slide open, only to see Shinobu walk in, visibly frustrated, you considered your theory all but confirmed.

“Ugh. I wish that idiot would just listen to me for once. I told him exactly that this was going to happen”, she complained to herself, fists clenched as she hurried to the living room, only to slow down when she encountered you. “Oh, you’re still awake?”, she asked, you finding yourself responding with a nod.

“Of course, it’s not that late. The sun didn’t set more than an hour ago”, you stated, causing her to look out of the window before tiredly rubbing her eyes.

“I see. It felt a lot later to me”, Shinobu responded, having all but calmed down from her fury just a few moments ago. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to head out again. That ‘gang’ got itself arrested again and I once again have to get them out somehow… even if I can’t help but wonder if leaving them there a little bit longer might teach them a lesson.”

Even without her taking off her mask and revealing the lower half of her face, you could see how tired she was, causing you to quickly stand up before walking over to her.

“I think you already did enough today. Go and take a rest, I’ll do the rest”, you offered, only for her to slightly shake her head while taking off her mask, letting out a small yawn while she was at it.

“Thanks, but I’ll doubt the guards will remember who you are and that you’re asking in my name, so going there will only result in me having to do the same when it’s even later”, she explained, only for you to quickly counter.

“Come on, they’ll know you sent me. Who other than you would care enough to get that bunch of idiots out?”, you joked, causing a small smile to appear on her face.

“That does sound plausible. Alright, but let me write you something, just in case they aren’t as cooperative”, Kuki responded before walking over to the table, writing something on a small slip of paper, putting her stamp on it and handing it to you once she was done. Sending you with a small kiss on the cheek.

The moment you left through the door, she let herself collapse onto the nearest chair, silently thanking the electro archon that she had you.

[multiplicity-positivity]

A few weeks ago I talked to my friend that I didn't want to do something because it would take too long and I was worried that the "future me" wouldn't like it or will be uncomfortable with it, imagining that this was a normal experience. He was confused.

I tried to explain the feeling by saying that I felt I was "made up of phases" because sometimes I would suddenly change like I was a totally different person and then there could be things that I liked that became VERY uncomfortable, and that's why I needed to worry whenever I was going to do something long term. He said he really had never felt that.

I explained to him that I always had to wait MONTHS before I decided that some experience of my identity was really part of me and not part of that particular "phase", and he again said he didn't understand.

I also said that I always thought of me as the set of these phases, and that "they" never met and that's why they needed to leave messages for each other if they wanted to talk, even if they all have the same memory and the same thoughts. He, again, thought it was strange.

I also said that the essence of my being seemed to change completely, including the way I saw the world and interacted with it and my thought, this is all different. He actually said he had NEVER felt anything like that.

I guess the fact that I'm here tells you where this conversation has taken me /silly

I COULD HAVE AVOIDED A SYSCOVERY IF I'D JUST SAID NO AND THAT'S ONE OF THOSE PATHETHICALLY FUNNY THINGS IN LIFE.

But seriously, after this conversation, I really don't know if I have doubts if I'm plural... But I would like your confirmation: Reading these experiences, do you think this seems like an experience of a system, or do you think I'm just passing through by the normal personality changes that people experience? I know you can't be sure, but neither am I so that's okay! /silly but /gen

Like, I don't know, I've just lived like this for as long as I can remember. I never knew if I could wait to do a task, because maybe the next "phase" would do it easily (or at least easier than me), but maybe the other "phase" would have EVEN MORE difficulty, and still had chances to no "phase" appears! I also never confirmed events because "what if the other phase doesn't like it?"

I've always lived about the whole thing of worrying about what other phases to come would feel like. And, yes, I had several different ones. But I can certainly say I had several of them (if not all of them) more than once. And usually the ones I felt the most always confused my self discovery because it was their identities that were the most permanent!

It seems so stupid to ask, but I still want to make sure there's no other explanation that's more plausible (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

hey, so you’re right, we can’t confirm or tell for sure if you’re plural. from what we understand, it’s normal for people to have phases, whether or not they’re plural. every person is unique, and some people are more indecisive, worrisome, capricious, or inconsistent than others. to us, this doesn’t necessarily point to a plural experience in and of itself. we also have singlet friends who reference “future me” and do things that their “future me” wouldn’t like or would appreciate. for them it’s not a plural or system thing, we think? it’s more of a “acknowledging that the actions i take now will affect me in the future” thing, if we understand it right.

of course, if you feel like having different, distinct phases makes you plural, you’re more than welcome to identify as such and you’ll definitely be welcomed in our spaces! though since you asked us for a plausible, alternate explanation, we feel it’s worth mentioning that it could just be good old fashioned anxiety plus indecisiveness.

regardless, we wish you the best on your journey of self-discovery! if your phases are distressing you, or if you’re spending a lot of time worrying about the future, it may be a good idea to speak to a therapist or mental health professional :)

🐢 kip and ���� ghost

[beauty-and-passion]

Ciao Bella! Spero che tu stia facendo bene! Qual è il tuo preferito fanfiction? Hopefully this is a more fun question that what you've been getting. Ti voglio bene <3 !

Mio tesoro, i tuoi messaggi ed il tuo sostegno rendono le mie giornate migliori. Cosa farei senza di te? Grazie di esistere <3

Speaking of your question, there is an obligatory premise.

There are a ton of amazing stories I've read and there are even more I still have find. However, if I have to pick my favourite, I want to pick the one I absolutely love more than any other.

Does that mean all others are bad? Nope, just that this one is the absolute best, the one that got everything I want from a story. The top of my personal chart, it you want.

So, as you probably already imagined, my absolute favourite Sanders Sides fanfiction (at least by now) is Mind the Gap by parallelmonsoon.

This is a one shot and it's a short one, so reading it will take just a few minutes. The plot is adequate to its shortness: Thomas tries to enter Janus' room and it doesn't go as well as he imagined. The characters are in canon and everything that happens is plausible. Also, there's a huge psychological component and you know me, I'm a sucker for this stuff.

But most importantly, this story has an experimental writing style that struck me the first time I read it and left me such a strong impression I still think about it today, after two years.

I love it, because it's simple and apparently very stupid - I mean, everyone could've used brackets the same way Para did. And yet, something so simple was used to show some of the most complicated concepts ever. I would've never been able to explain them with the same elegance and simplicity Para used.

Last but not least, the construction of the story. How the tension rises until it reaches the climax, how Thomas is slowly coming closer and closer to a realization... until everything snaps and he comes back. Perfect. And the fact Para didn't need thousands of words to tell it, really speaks loudly about what a magnificent writer they are. I don't know in which fandom they ended up, but thank you for your story, Para: I will cherish it forever as one of the best I've ever read.

But this was a one shot: do I actually have a favourite long fiction? Well, if I have to pick my absolutely, 200% most favourite fanfiction, the one with the best writing style, the best plot, the best scenes, the best written characters, the one I still remember fondly after years and I am still willing to read all over again and that I still find beautiful, then I think my absolute favourite is Bother Me a Little Bit Longer by patentpending.

It's a moceit, so it covers two titles: best fanfiction with a ship and best longfiction... but what can I say? Patentpending is another wonderful writer. Their writing style isn't incredibly innovative nor experimental, but it has that special something.

I can't exactly pinpoint what this "something" is. It's like a spark, something special hidden between the words that makes a writer able to captivate you. It's something that pulls you in the story and makes your eyes move faster along the lines. I remember how hard it was for me to stop, in order to savor every line of every chapter, because I just wanted to read and read and read forever.

I've felt this drawn only two times before, once by a published author and once by another fanfic author. And, just like patentpending, the other fanfic author was able to keep that magic spark in all of her stories, no matter which fandom she wrote for.

In addition to that magical spark, the story has everything I want: Patton and Janus aren't two idiots, but characters with motivations and logical sense. All other characters are IC. The story is full of surprises and we always oscillate between funny, sweet and serious moments. I still like this story a lot and, when I have some spare time, I gladly read it again.

So here they are, the tops of my chart: my favourite one shot and my favourite Sanders Sides long fiction. Of course this isn't set in stone and my new favourite can still be somewhere, waiting for me.

But in the meantime, since there are a ton of other amazing stories and authors I think about dearly and since it would be a shame to not mention them, here they are in a quick list:

° Partners in Pranks by jowritesthings: another Moceit, but a one-shot. This one cracks me up and puts a smile on my face every single time I read it, so it deserves the world.

° patton and the no-good day by caffeinated_cryptid: Patton is a fantastic character, he's wonderfully explored and the time loop idea... I may have a thing for time loops and time jumps and everything time related, because I love it a lot.

° They Share A Kitchen by BuddyBuddyPalBuddy: I affectionately hate the author because this story is incomplete and yet, it has some of the most beautiful scenes I've ever read. The third chapter in particular is quintessential Intrulogical: there's everything I've ever wanted to see with them, from the act of creation to the power of their cooperation, to the marine environment. It's pure beauty and I love the author for this story. And I lovingly hate them because they will probably never finish it.

° With A Door Between Them by rosesisupposes: not only this story managed to write a good conversation between Janus and Roman, but it's also funny, they are IC and the concepts it explores, despite being well known by everyone, are explained in a very beautiful way.

° Those Good Lies by Agent_Ravensong: beautiful story, beautiful structure, beautiful interactions between Thomas and Janus. All with interesting concepts and headcanons that lead to some scenes I still have stuck in my mind.

° Morbid Fascination by alicat54c: there are a lot of beautiful things here, but the most beautiful of them all is the use of creepiness. In general, it's not easy to show someone being creepy, without making them appear also bad or unpleasant. And yet, you managed to do it. Remus and Janus are still wonderful, the creepiness is just another aspect of them. And, considering how often we all ignore it, seeing it so beautifully explored here makes me very happy.

° Folds in Paper (Book 1) by AdrianaintheSnow: this story confirmed me I have a thing for time travel. But the whole time travel thing isn't just something that pops up and has zero importance for the story. On the contrary, time travel plays a HUGE role here, it is strongly intertwined with Janus and Patton's relationship and how it evolves. And it made me fall in love with this story. I devoured it in two days and I am still patiently waiting for Book 2, hoping that it will be as good as Book 1 was.

[semi-imaginary-place]

Started watching anime on a whim

Watched 5 episodes of uh the one about the edgy feral witch"s apprentice and i kept waiting for it to get good and theres some good story ideas but too much of is stupid. Also would have worked better with a female protag. Wow he really is consistently feral rather liked that concept actually. But too much of it is contrived like dude's phone has a command to conveniently unlock all the cells with no restrictions or in general the lack to security checks on weapons. Or really the put the one witch baby tree where the humans can get it? And then protag levels half a city but struggles to kill this one dude. Also anime crimes against women: rape for cheap drama is so boring to watch. Op ed songs were great tho.

Finally watching jujutsu kaisen and over the last few years i have seen sooo much stuff for this show and i still didnt know that pink? hair was the protag i usually see the white and black haired dudes. Oh this is well produced, and the animation is good. I see why people like it. Lesbian. I love her already. Oh black hair ive been seeing isnt megumi its the dude with plugs and hair tied up.

Ep5: ok thats very interesting the dynamic. Megumi's trying to get himself and itadori out alive. Initially tries to pressure ... Sukuna? To regenerate even willing to sacrifice his life then switches to suppression because he has no chance in a fight even if that risks itadori bleeding out. Oh theres the dude ive been seeing he's an antagonist? Also whiplash from itadori dying (im assuming some bs happens that revives him) to school tournament.

What is up with all these dudes ripping their shirts off?? This is like the 3rd time this has happened??

Office bro is dead he's challenging the final boss in ep like 9/24.

13 oh yeah they all still think he's dead

18 uh what happened to the run away plan? Eh this arc is pretty boring for me.

I cant remember do sukuna and itadori remember when the other is in control? Also for a series about highschoolers there is remarkably little highschool stuff the cast could easily be in their early 20s joining an organization.

former punk fushiguro lol. also love how the 3 others instantly jump on the opportunity to troll him.

24. it's interesting to see how anime has changed over the years. if jjk had been released in 2003 this would have been an episodic monster of the week style show where every episode they would take out a different curse with reused animation.

i love her. kugisaki murdering a dude in front of their family and boasting about it. damn. jjk draws the line between curses and humans and immediately like next episode blurs that line. i like how this si getting to itadori

Movie: i like how for once the big monster is a girl. The contrast between jjk 0 and the main series really highlights two genres jjk could have taken. With okkotsu(?) Jjk is a darker supernatural horror thriller with its shy low self esteem protag like deadman wonderland or tokyo ghoul among others there was an era where this style/subgenre was very popular. The second genre with itadori is the hotblooded battle shounen. I actually like the latter so im not complaining just an observation. Also i see why tumblr and twitter like geto.

S2e1: gay. The op end ed might as well be ship amvs

i might like this better than the first season wow.

uhhhh wasn't it suppose to be really bad if the girl died

bro that sounds like burnout you need a vacation.

aw i liked the flashback arc. back to 2018

hmm robot kun might not make it out of this. wow yeah just add more death flags.

gojo sure has changed huh. used to be more amoral. kinda sad geto is actually dead he was a good character although given what the series has established so far the author could revive anyone plausibly.

from curses to sapient curses and transformed humans to curse users aka the bad humans i wonder when it'll just be whoever jujutsu highschool doesn't like.

I think I've come around on gojo its funny how the show goes out of its way to tell the audience how good looking he is like girls swarming him or characters commenting on his pretty eyes and flawless skin and then the part i really like how this is contrasted with his annoying personality that no one likes. Its so funny, his coworkers tolerate him at best theres like maybe 3 people tops that actively like being around him. Also he only really started covering his eyes after the flashback arc, i wonder if its because of those events whether its the unlocking 6 eyes (why is it called that) or geto leaving. Because with the blindfold he mostly just looks like a weirdo. I also cant help but wonder if gojo losing sight of his humanity during the tengen incident, like he seemed very... unmoored? meant geto didnt have a grounding point to rely on later. So by the time gojo had figured himself out and how to be a functioning person again geto was already gone.

Scrolled through tumblr and wow people are horny for the deadbeat. Also nanami. The oldest womb dude too but i expected that since he's a half dead looking goth which is just up tumblr's alley. Wow i havent seen a reader insert plague this bad since haikyuu. Go straight girls go (just stay away from me).

judge jury executioner the jujutsu world really is a lawless mobstate.

37. huh. what was that spaghetti scene

39 eyy reached the last currently available episode. lots of active plot threads. i still don't know what was up with chrono(?) or where he ran off to. deadbeat zombi toji has picked out megumi. mahito and whats his face are roaming around. not sure I'll read the manga but i might skim it. the best part of this show is the cool fight scenes afterall.

Was thinking about the framing of the flashback arc op and ed. And they appear so carefree and warm because we're seeing how gojo remembers his highschool days. He's dreaming of days past wishing he could return to them.

[kishante]

I think what people are failing to understand is that Beale was the head of the snake so to speak. The echelon briefing was only given to the highest most trusted officers. All the “worker bees” the regular soldiers had no idea what was really going on. And that was by design.

Having everyone who had received the briefing all gathered at the same place at the same time was stupid. But with just how invincible Beale thought they were — it was completely plausible to believe that they would be fine. So yea, cutting out the leadership of the crm crippled it. Rick and Michonne didn’t have to kill every single soldier.

Also we need to remember that Rick spent 8 years in the crm. Almost all of those years were spent trying to find the vulnerabilities to escape. If anyone knew how to find places to get in it’s Rick. Also, the fact that the fact that they were so focused on making sure no one got out — it’s plausible to think they overlooked places where people could get in.

Now as far as the grenade — this is a fictional show about zombies. Some plausible deniability is required. If not, every one of these characters would have been dead multiple times over from getting walker blood in their eyes, mouths, noses. So — I’ll take Rick holding a grenade and surviving on the chin.

I honestly don’t think there were any credible threats to the CRM other than that one was where they sacrificed one city for the other —before Rick and Michonne. The CRM’s strategy was to always be on the offensive. Categorize people that they encounter, kill the A’s, indoctrinate the B’s and never leave any evidence. They actively sought out communities, killed them and stole their resources. Though Rick and Michonne have never gone up against an enemy as large as the CRM they know how power structures work. Cutting the head off the snake is one of the most basic strategies to weaken an enemy force. Once again all they had to do is kill Beale and make sure that there was no one else able to take his place.

I did think the episode had a ton of ground to cover and could have taken it slower. We could have had more time with Beale. More time ramping up the threat of kidnapping the kids. But overall the story was about Rick and Michonne reuniting and getting home to their kids. They accomplished that.

I finally watched episode 6 and I'm disappointed.

Now I won’t even go into discussions about the motives of CRM or Rick and Michonne. planned.

And this is not some kind of personal hostility that speaks to me, it’s just a fact.

In any series/movie/book, I really value plausibility and logic. So, all this was missing in episode 6.

Sorry, but a system like CRM cannot be destroyed by two people. Even if these two people were professionals in their field, with unrealistic training (and Rick and Michonne are ordinary people who have learned to survive). CRM were too well prepared and they held out for a very long time, and probably survived more serious threats than two people breaking into their territory.

If the writers had been at least a little guided by logic, and not by the fear of facing the condemnation of the fandom, either Rick or Michonne, or rather even both, should have died before they could accomplish even half of what they had planned. And this is not some kind of personal hostility that speaks to me, it’s just a fact.

You can simply try to imagine the situation yourself, how two ordinary people burst into some real city with the goal of killing the head of the city and the entire army UNNOTICED. What will happen to these people? Obviously not what we were shown in the series.

I thought I was watching a serious series for an adult audience, and not a fairy tale for children)

[theneondemonx]

MY TYPE | JJK

One Shot

▽ summary: you’ve never liked fuckboys, especially one Jeon Jungkook. But when you find yourself late at night playing a game of seven minutes in heaven with your college friends, things take a different turn.

▽ genre: porn with very little plot, college au

▽ pairings: fuckboy|jk x fem!reader

▽ words: 2192

▽ warnings: implied alcohol use, jk jerked off to your insta pics (y/n living the dream), oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk, nipple play, jk has a big dick

A chorus of ooohs filled the messy living room in which you and your friends were sitting in circle. It was late and most of the party guests had already gone back home, leaving just a small bunch of you and a pile of garbage all over the house. You would have gladly leave the place way earlier if it wasn’t for your best friend Se-mi, who you promised to drive back home. She insisted in staying longer to hit on Min Yoongi, one of your fellow classmates from the same major, but the guy seemed to barely notice. He might even been interested in her for all you knew: there was no way of telling, since he was always so introverted. The only person he spoke to was his disaster of a friend, Jeon Jungkook, the campus playboy.

How do they even get along? They have literally nothing in common.

And you knew this, since you had been often paired with Yoongi for some group projects during the years. The guy was cool. He was really smart and funny when you actually got to know him. He just didn’t open up easily. That’s why, even though you’ve had the opportunity to chat with him several times, you couldn’t really say you two were friends.

But back to the ooohs. The reason behind that childish reaction was to trace in the empty bottle of beer who had just stop spinning, pointing at you and the infamous Jeon Jungkook, who was having the time of his life – judging from the mischievous grin on his face.

You weren’t blind, you knew he was hot as fuck, but he was way too aware of his good looks and terribly overconfident. He was known to have slept with most girls on campus, and you were pretty sure he was more dedicated to keep his record than to actually graduate. Which, for a good student like you, was infuriating.

You had always found him annoying and obnoxious. And on top of that, you couldn’t figure out how girls seemed to fall for his cheesy lines every single time, throwing themselves at him like he was the only guy with a dick.

Sure, you didn’t really knew the guy, but in your opinion there wasn’t much to know about him. He was a cliché. And you couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time he tried to hit on you. Because he did. Of course he did. You were just his favorite type of prey: one that was not easy to catch.

“Well, you know the rules, guys. The closet is right at the end of the corridor. You have to stay in there for seven minutes. If you get out earlier, you have to kiss in front of everybody for the remaining time. And if you don’t get out.. well.. good for you.”

“Don’t worry, Jimin. Seven minutes are more than enough.” You said with a sarcastic tone, giving him a fake smile while you got up and adjusted your skirt.

Jungkook scoffed, getting up and leaning closer to your ear to talk in a low voice, but loud enough for the others to hear.

“You must have had some pretty lame sex if you think so. Hope I’ll change your mind.”

“You’re disgusting.”

And that’s how you found yourself sharing the tightest possible space with a known fuckboy like Jeon Jungkook.

As soon as you entered the closet, you pushed your back against one of the walls, folding your arms to your chest to make him understand in every possible way that you weren’t going to give into any of his shenanigans. Stupid move, since your shirt was a bit low-cut and that only made your tits pop up even more, looking like a four course meal to the blatant gaze of Jungkook.

“No class to run to this time, mh?” he immediately uttered, giving you a malicious smile while leaning with his shoulder against the door frame.

“Unfortunately.”

He rolled his eyes, darkened even more by the dim light of the small space you were both trapped in.

“Oh come on, do you really want to turn this game into seven minutes in hell? You don’t necessarily have to be a mood killer.”

“I just don’t like you, Jungkook. I know you are not used to hear it, but that’s just how it is.”

Your comeback didn’t seem to affect him at all. If anything, he just made him chuckle and slightly shake his head.

Seriously? You are that full of yourself?

“Ok, so it’s another Y/L/N Y/N who liked my photo at the gym from three years ago and then changed her whole profile in a ridiculous attempt to hide it.”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned suddenly red. You got caught.

“It was a mistake.” You tried to explain yourself, knowing too well that there was nothing you could say to go back from that.

He raised his eyebrow, looking straight at you from underneath his eyelashes.

“You scrolled through all my Instagram profile by mistake?”

No you didn’t. You just got curious. That’s the kind of shit you did at three in the morning when you couldn’t sleep. You just find yourself looking for weird stuff on the internet and scrolling through profiles of people you barely knew for no apparent reason. It was just a bonus point the fact that Jungkook’s profile was full of pictures of his body sculped by the gods. Sure, you were annoyed by his attitude, but you were still a woman.

“And you did it so very late at night, if I might add.” He said, taking a step forward towards you. “What were you doing, Y/N? Looking for something interesting?”

You blushed so hard that you were pretty sure he could see the redness in your cheeks even despite the poor lighting in the closet. But you couldn’t help but stare at him in the eyes like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze.

“I wasn’t.” You murmured, defensively.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed, you know? I was awake too – thank God, if I might add. I would have missed it otherwise. I would have found myself locked out of that mysterious profile, unable to look at your cute pictures.” He paused, leaning way too close to your face. “Don’t tell anyone, but I had some fun with those.”

Normally, you would have told him that he was sickening, but for some reason you felt a pleasant warmth irradiating in your belly. You couldn’t help but picture him jerking off to your photos, and it wasn’t sickening at all. If anything, it was weirdly enticing.

He rested his palm on the wall, right next to your face, and looked down at your body like he was ready to devour it in one bite.

“I recognized the skirt, you know?”

You didn’t remember wearing it in one of your pictures, but it was plausible: that skirt was one of your favorites. Cute and short, but not too revealing.

“Well, I hope you saved the picture, because that’s all you’re gonna get.”

This was your response, when you actually found the courage to talk. But your voice was so low and shaky that you found it hard yourself to believe your own words. Of course he didn’t fall for it.

“Are you sure?”

You bit your lip, nodding in a last ridiculous attempt to give yourself a standoffish look, which again he didn’t buy at all.

He got even closer, slightly pressing his body against yours until your heavy breaths were melting into one another and you could feel his hardness on your stomach.

You did not respond. You were brain dead. All you could feel was your core painfully clenching around nothing and your blood flowing down to your lower belly, emptying your head of any thought beside those filled with the desire to feel his body.

“Mh.. okay..” he said, gently resting his hand on your thigh and starting to go further up with an excruciating slow pace. “So you don’t like this.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was clear he was looking for a reply you were unable to give. A soft moan escaped your lips at his gentle touch, which you didn’t move away from. A silent green light for him to go even further up, taking his caress under the hem of your skirt until his digits were brushing the damp fabric of your underwear.

“You want me to stop, Y/N?”

His words were a mere whisper against your lips to which you couldn't help but faintly gasp.

“No.” You found yourself saying, right before being cut off by the kiss he gave you, pressing his lips against yours and spreading them open for his tongue to enter your mouth.

You moaned, melting like pudding against his body while his fingers started drawing slow circles on your sensitive clit.

“For someone who finds me disgusting you got yourself soaking wet pretty fast, princess.”

His provocative words only got you wetter and needier, pushing you to the edge of your psychological barricade. Your hands rushed to his belt, unbuckling it with fast and sloppy movements until you could zip down his jeans, letting his hard cock spring free in front of you.

Fuck he’s big.

He seemed to have somehow read your thoughts in your eyes, since he chuckled, guiding your hand to wrap around his width and slightly moving it up and down while letting out a raspy moan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and take me in your mouth, princess?”

You licked your lips, looking up at him with your eyes filled with lust while you slowly got to your knees. You never broke eye contact, pumping him slowly but steadily before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, covered with precum.

“Tastes good?”

“Mhmh.” You nodded with a mischievous smile on your face.

Your mouth soon wrapped around his cock, taking it all in until you started gaggin a bit for the length. A reaction which made him moan loudly and grab your hair, steadying his grip in order to guide your head in the increasing pace.

“Fuck your mouth feels so good.”

“You like it? Is this what you pictured while jerking off to my photos?” You said during a small pause, not even giving him the time to respond with anything but a loud moan, since you immediately got back to deep throating his cock like it was your last meal.

“Fuck I’m close.”

Those words only made you move faster, keeping your eyes locked with his to take in every ounce of pleasure you could get from him. And at that point there wasn’t much he could do to hold back. You suddenly felt his hot semen spilling down your throat.

However, you only had the time to swallow before he leaned down, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you up with ridiculous ease.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, letting him push you against the wall and move your wet panties to the side to sink deep inside your throbbing core.

You let out a sharp moan, welcoming his size between your tight walls with pleasurable pain. One of his hands got under your shirt and bra, squeezing your breast and tracing circles with his thumb on your hard nipple.

“Look at you. You got so wet just by sucking my cock, baby?”

His words were again a lustful whisper against your parted lips, but you were unable to respond – your voice cut by the deep thrusts he was torturing you with. You were sure, however, that the lewd sounds of your wetness were enough of an answer to him.

“Such a pretty little slut. What are you gonna tell the others when they’ll see my cum dripping down your thighs?”

You moaned loudly, helping his pace with the movements of your own hips to take him even deeper.

“I’m gonna tell them that this lame sex little slut made you come twice in a row.”

He groaned, thrusting harder in you.

“You are so fucking hot.”

The pace got quicker and quicker until you found yourself out of breath, calling his name in between moans while your legs started shivering, signaling your forthcoming orgasm. And when it came, it hit you like a train, making you grab his hair and moan loudly while your walls clenched around his cock. You felt him twitch inside you until he sank deep with sloppy thrusts, releasing his orgasm inside you with a raspy moan.

You two took some moments to relax your racing heartbeats, leaning against each other's forehead with eyes closed and heavy breaths.

When you felt again capable of speaking, you let out a pretty laugh, pressing your palm against his cheek.

“Hope this memory will serve you well for your future lonely nights.”

He laughed, caressing your nose with the tip of his.

“Trust me, this won’t stay in the past.”

“Jerkass.”

“Nerd.”

[greatwyrmgold]

It's been an awful while since I've read Name of the Wind and The Wise Man's Fear, so I've forgotten a lot of the details. The one scene I do remember with clarity is the bit where Kvothe tries to explain where babies come from. To adults from a culture where nobody knows where babies come from.

Details

So, the Adem are basically a matriarchal martial arts society. I remember a lot of little details bugging me, but most are arguably just a matter of Kvothe being a biased narrator. And they don't understand that babies come from having sex.

The explanation given in the text is that all Adem women have so much sex that they assume women just get pregnant when the time is right. They aren't monogamous, and don't think fatherhood is a thing, so they don't have any reason to keep track of the men who had sex with them before they got pregnant.

And worst of all, they know where animal babies come from. Cows get pregnant when they have sex with bulls, and the calves inherit traits from both cow and bull. They just assume that human beings don't and can't work the same way.

WTF?

So, first off, the explanation rang hollow to me when I read the books in high school, and now that I'm not a stupid high schooler, I can articulate why: Some women are ace or lesbians. (Or ace lesbians, of course.) There is no plausible way that every woman across the entire culture has sex often enough that they can't recognize a connection between sex and pregnancy, unless they are all being coerced.

Second, even without that, surely there are premenopausal straight/bi women that don't have sex for some reason. Like trauma, or medical issues, or being too busy raising five kids to make a sixth, or whatever. Hell, there should be some who don't have any particular reason and just don't get around to it. Unless there's something weird in the water, there should be no shortage of people who don't have sex.

Third, the Adem live up in the mountains, but they're not totally isolated from society. Even if every Adem woman shacks up with some dude at least twice a menstrual cycle, they can communicate with celibate and monogamous women, and with people familiar with them.

And finally...this doesn't make the Adem look interestingly foreign. It's not a different way of looking at the world. It doesn't make you think about how "truths" we take for granted are actually culturally subjective. This just make the Adem look stupid. Not even ignorant—they have the information they need to figure out where babies come from. They just don't figure it out.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize that it was actually really close to being what it wanted to be, and that makes the failure more frustrating.

Like, just drop the thing about not understanding babies happen because sex. That's dumb, it should never have seen print. But keep the fact that the Adem don't think fathers are a thing. They understand how the world works, they just don't think "father" is a thing worth naming.

"Yeah, the baby's sperm donor affects their hair color and complexion and stuff, but who cares? Why do you foreigners make such a big deal out of it? Why do sons take their fathers' names, and not their mothers'? Why do you put so much more emphasis on the man that f*ked a woman than on the woman who bore the child?"

That takes the disagreement out of the realm of hard fact and into the realm of social construction. The fact that "fathers" share DNA with "their" kids is hard fact. The idea that this shared DNA means they have some special connection to the kids that other men don't is not.

That would be an interesting cultural detail, not a stupid writing decision that sticks in my brainpan for a decade, like a burr trapped in your coat sleeve.

[solarwonux]

8. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

25.  “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see.” “So?”

marketing director!mingyu x f!reader

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: a little bitt of angst, a little bit of fluff, suggestive themes like voyeurism briefly mentioned

note: ngl, I’m sorry not my best work but I TRIED. Let me know your thoughts it would really help me out a lot. Thank you for reading.xx

masterlist || prompt list

Kim Mingyu - Marketing Director

The nameplate on the door sends a shiver up your spine, knowing that the man you had accidentally pulled in for a drunk kiss the night before during the weekly company bonding dinner, was sitting just behind the door. He was pissed, had pushed you away, made a big deal in wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust. Causing you to sober up quickly and regretting it.

It’s no secret that God had taken his sweet time when creating Kim Mingyu Marketing Director of GoSe Enterprises. He put all the Greek Gods you spent your free time reading about to shame. You’ve been crushing on him since he sat in the cubicle next to yours for years. The two of you had developed a nice easy-going friendship. He was sweet, funny, and always offered amazing advice, both on personal and professional matters. You were practically head over heals for him.

Then the promotion came, granting Mingyu with an office on the southside of the company building. Huge windows overlooking the city below, and the office. A nice fancy gold nameplate with his new job description underneath it. Naturally, the two of you grew apart, ripped from one another without a warning. He was no longer rooting for you and your ideas. Instead, he was the one turning down all your project proposals. He was the one assigning you the revision tasks he knew you hated doing. He was the reason for the random spikes of anxiety throughout the workday. He was no longer your friend, he was your supervisor. His soft demeanor and fleeting touches were nowhere to be found. Lost amongst piles of paperwork surrounding his desk. 

You took a deep breath holding your laptop close against your chest, eyeing the nameplate on the large dark wooden door that took your Mingyu away from you a year ago. You were nervous. He only ever called you down to his office if you had a proposal revision due, which this time you didn’t. 

The last idea you had pitched two weeks ago was turned down before you could finish your sentence during your first PowerPoint slide. He didn’t even give you the chance to improve it, simply said, “trash it, it’s not worth wasting your time when it’s not a plausible option.” So, the only other option left and the one that made sense was your slip-up the night before. He had called you down to ask for your resignation letter for breaking company policy. 

“If you keep staring at the door it won’t magically open,” Chan spoke next to you making you jump. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged sheepishly and opened the door, walking in with confidence. “Mingyu I have the copies you asked for.” 

You filed in after him, situating yourself close to the wall and by the door, while Mingyu instructed Chan on where to set down the copies. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, watching as the two of them laughed about some inside joke they had. The anger along with jealousy boiled with fever deep within you. 

This was the problem. Mingyu had only changed when it came to you. With everyone else he was the same Mingyu you once had the pleasure of knowing, and that not only confused you but it made you angry. “Are we still on for guys' night this friday?” Chan asked the older male pointing finger guns at him. 

“Yes, of course, drinks are on Seungcheol this time, which makes my wallet really happy.” Mingyu clapped Chan on the back and led him towards his office door. “Same bar with the cute bartender?” He emphasized, his angry gaze falling on you for a second. 

Subtle you silently scoffed rolling your eyes, holding your laptop as close to your body as humanly possible.If he didn’t make his distaste towards you obvious by his reaction last night, he surely made it painfully clear just now. 

“That’s the one.” Chan nodded, sending you a pitying look, one you didn’t need. You knew you were fucked. 

Everyone knew about your painful crush on Mingyu. Everyone had seen you grab the collar of his dark maroon shirt last night and plant a wet alcohol filled kiss against his lips. Everyone had seen the way he reacted, yanking his suit jacket off the back of his chair and walking out of the bar pissed. So, you didn’t need the various pitying looks you were getting since the moment you walked in that morning.

“Alright then I’ll see you then, don’t forget to turn in your proposal by tomorrow night, Jeonghan keeps bugging me about it.” 

Chan sighed, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, “shit, I’ll have it done by tomorrow morning.” He said quickly before speed walking back to his cubicle. Leaving you alone to face the problem you had caused. 

Mingyu laughed lightly, shaking his head as he shut the door to his office, “I knew he forgot.” He mumbled before straightening his back, the scowl you were used to seeing appeared on his face once again. He walked past you to his desk, taking a seat next to his name plate. You stayed put, looking down at the floor, only counting the tiny dust bunnies that were visible to your eye. 

Mingyu cleared his throat, “We need to talk about what happened last night.” 

You raised your head pushing yourself off the wall and walked to him. Stopping behind one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Don’t need to, It’s my fault for breaking company policy. I’ll hand in my resignation letter to Jeonghan tonight.” You kept your eyes trained on the skyscraper reflecting through the window behind him. Anything was better than looking at him right now. 

He sighed, running a frustrated hand across his face. He pushed himself away from his desk and took a step forward. “I didn’t call you in here to ask you to resign.” 

Confused, you tore your eyes from the building behind him and looked at him. The bags under his eyes that had started to form from lack of sleep and overwork were now more prominent than before. It made you wonder if he hadn’t slept last night because of you, but then you remembered the huge project he was currently working on, so you casted that thought aside.

“Oh then...I-umm, why am I here?” 

“Do you have any idea the position you put me in last night?” He furrowed his brows, placing a knee down on the chair in front of him. He leaned his forearms against the back of it, closing the distance you purposely kept between the two of you. 

You took a step back, scrunching your nose, “I don’t understand. You don’t want me to resign. If I’m not getting penalized then why am I here?” You dropped your arms in defeat. “If you called me in here to tell me you’re not interested in me, you don’t have to. I already know.” You finished swallowing the lump that had formed at the back of your throat. 

“That’s the problem.” Mingyu pointed an accusing finger at you before retreating it. “I am interested in you, more than interested in you. I have strong feelings for you and I can’t act on them because I don’t want everyone to think that I favor you, because I do.” 

I’m dreaming, you thought pressing the palm of your hand against your heated forehead. You had to be dreaming, life has never been this giving to you, “wait I’m confused...you ran out last night, literally pushed me away, disgusted. Do you have any idea how that felt? I had to sit down and face our co-workers with a fake smile on my face because I didn’t want them to see me cry.” 

Mingyu’s face softened, he gripped the back of the chair hard enough for his knuckles to almost turn white. “I know and I’m sorry but if I had stayed then I would’ve kept kissing you. You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do that.” He dropped his head releasing a shuddering breath. “Every time we stayed here working over time, the only thing I could think about was how easy it’d be if I just leaned over a little more and kissed you. No one would be around, no one would see, it would just be our little secret. But the stupid company policy always seemed to find it’s way into my head and I never let myself cross that boundary.”

“Mingyu w-why are you telling me this now? Even if we have feelings for one another, my job is important to me and I don’t want to risk getting fired because we’re together.” You blinked rapidly, now was not the time to cry. You could cry later in the communal bathroom across the hall, or on the bus ride home, just anywhere but here. 

“Well,” Mingyu rounded the corner of the chairs and made his way to you, finally closing the distance. “I talked to Jeonghan -”

“Wait you told him we kissed?” You were sure your eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the realization hit you. Of course, Mingyu wasn’t going to fire you, he was saving himself the burden and having Jeonghan do it for him. 

He chuckled, placing a hand against your hip making you jump, “Just how drunk were you last night? Jeonghan was there when it happened. He called me and threatened to fire me for leaving you the way I did.” He whispered, circling his arm around you and pulling you close, making you stumble from the sudden impact. “H’said, fuck company policy and that I was stupid for following it when no one does.” 

“Wait are you saying th -” 

“Yes we can be together as long as we keep our work and personal lives separate, so, no sex in my office.” 

You gasped hitting his chest lightly, this lewd side of Mingyu was one you had never seen before. Or at least you had but in a much more subtle way. “Well of course, we can’t do that. That was never going to be part of the deal.” The thought of him pressing you against his desk after hours sent a thrilling shiver up your spine. You bit your lip, shaking your head. No, not allowed, focus. 

“Why not? I’ve slept on the couch here a few times. It's pretty comfortable.” He reassured, hooking his thumb in the belt loops of your dark slacks. “And your ass looks so good in these pants, I literally have to make it my mission to not stare.” 

“I’m flattered, I guess. But look around Gyu.” His gaze followed your hand as you waved it around in front of him. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see -” 

He pulled you closer, eloping your body in both of his arms, “so?” He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing against his lips. You had forgotten how much he liked to tease you. 

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “were you not listening to what I was saying everyone can see.” You emphasized, poking his cheek with your index finger. 

Mingyu bit his bottom lip trying to suppress his laughter. He forgot how easily flustered you could get, especially when he would say something out of pocket to you. Sure, half of the time you would ignore him, sometimes you would simply roll your eyes, focused on whatever you were working on. Other times he would leave you at a loss for words.

“Frankly, I don’t see the problem. We can just wait until everyone goes home and then give whoever is walking by a free show.” He finished raising his eyebrows suggestively at you. 

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away and walked to his door. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about having sex with me and you haven’t even asked me out on a date or to be your girlfriend.” You pushed his door open and walked out, “the audacity you have Kim Mingyu.” 

He felt panic surge through him, his big mouth getting the best of him once again. “Woah woah wait I was getting there, you didn’t give me the chance to ask.” He followed you out the door, trying to keep up with your hasty steps. Who knew you could walk so fast in heels. 

Once you were at your cubicle you sat down, placing your laptop on top of your desk, waking it up. “Too late, company policy says we have to keep our work and personal lives separate, guess you’re going to have to wait a while.” You look at the digital clock on your desk, “Five and a half hours to be exact.” 

Mingyu threw his head back, frustrated. As much as he enjoyed teasing you, he had forgotten that you were equally as evil if not worse. He had waited to ask you out for more than two years and now that he could, he literally couldn’t wait five and a half hours.

“Friday, after work?” He whispered, covering the side of his mouth with his hand to make it look less suspicious. It wasn’t working.

“What about guys night and that cute bartender?” You smirked, clicking around your computer opening the files you were working on earlier. 

Mingyu took a deep breath and grabbed the back of your chair, swinging it around ripping you away from your computer screen. “Fuck guys night honey, I’m taking you home, cooking you the best meal you’ve ever had and then -” He stopped peaking over your cubicle. Everyone that had tuned in to your debacle, quickly scrambled to focus on whatever they were doing before you and Mingyu walked in. He nodded once before leaning down, his lips close to your ear, whispering, “then I’m going to fuck you against my window so everyone can see that you’re finally mine.” 

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning.You put your hand on his chest and leaned in, placing a soft kiss against the shell of his ear. “Kinky, ask me again in five and a half hours.” You gave his cheek a gentle pat before pushing him away, returning your attention to what you were doing. 

Mingyu grumbled, shoulders slumped as he dragged himself back to his office. You stifled a laugh, the butterflies you had once felt for him returning. 

“You know I heard all of that.” Soonyoung spoke, peeking his head into your cubicle, his eyes wide like he had just seen a ghost, or something utterly disgusting.

Fuck! Mingyu! You whined silently before turning to face your cubicle mate. “I’ll buy you lunch if you pretend like you didn’t hear anything.” 

He put a pensive hand on his chin before sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Deal, I suddenly have been overcome with amnesia, whatever happened in the last five minutes I do not remember, that’s only if you promise to also finish revising this project proposal for me.” He waved the large packet of white copy paper in front of you. 

You groaned, “that wasn’t part of the deal we just shook on.” 

He sucked in air, “I don’t remember that.” He pouted. “I have amnesia, remember.” 

“Fuck fine.”

[legends-live-in-memories]

Business (Mis)Management

AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle! 

Fics Masterlist

Timari Oneshot 2.3K words

Summary: 

"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "

One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."

without further ado: 

It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. 

Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn��t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.

It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills. 

When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.

“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of. 

After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble. 

A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things? 

The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation. 

“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.” 

Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.

“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”

Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”

He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.  

“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?” 

Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”

Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.

“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.

“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”

Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right? 

“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit. 

“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”

What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass. 

She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail. 

Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing. 

Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.

The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind. 

They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”

“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.” 

“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.

“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”

“Huh.”

“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!

“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”

“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”

“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

What?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 7 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke up with a pounding headache and no memory of having gone to bed.

This would not have been a surprise had he been at home, as his routine was blissfully static and required no thought whatsoever – each item he needed in its proper place, each movement mapped out through years of practice, his entire body trained such that he would automatically begin to go through the necessary acts at the appropriate time and would immediately begin to feel sleepy once he started the sequence – but it was highly notable that such a thing would occur while he was out of the Cloud Recesses, where each day’s sleep would only be the same in terms of the time at which he fell asleep.

In this case in particular, he also felt sore all over – his head, as mentioned, but also his upper arms and, oddly, his right knee. Had he been exercising unwisely? The bed in the room he had been given at the Sun Palace was not that nice, too hard and unyielding, but it wasn’t enough to cause this sort of aching…

“I will see to it that the next bed lives up to your stringent standards.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes shot open and he sat upright at once: that was Wen Ruohan’s voice.

“What are you doing in my –” he started to say, then stopped.

Wen Ruohan was not in his bedroom.

He wasn’t in his bedroom.

He didn’t even recognize this bedroom.

It was massive, for one thing: a full suite, the way the hanshi was back at home, with place for a bed and a table and plenty more besides. The bed was similar in style to the one in the room he had been assigned but larger in scale – made of dark wood and covered in the red sun motif like all the other décor, but over twice as broad and an extra chi in length, and the brocade fabric used to upholster it was considerably more lush and luxurious and, admittedly, more comfortable than what he’d been sleeping on in the Sun Palace’s guest quarters. The room itself was the same, decorated in luxury extending to the point of opulence: there was a painting scroll on one wall that if genuine would be worth more than everything Lan Qiren owned put together, young master of a Great Sect or not, and on the other wall hung six swords, each more glorious than the next, and he suspected if he knew more about weaponry he would be able to recite their names.  Even the red sun that was painted on every ceiling here glittered with embedded rubies and spiritual stones, emanating pure qi – a tremendous waste, each one of them sufficient to be a cultivation sect’s precious treasure.

Amidst all this luxury, Wen Ruohan was sitting not far away from the bed, a book held loosely in his hands – it was as if he’d been waiting for Lan Qiren to awaken.

“I think you’ll find, in fact,” Wen Ruohan said, and his eyes were glittering the way they had been the day before when it had been Lao Nie he’d been looking at, full of malice and self-indulgent amusement, “that this is my bedroom.”

This was not a surprise, but rather the only logical conclusion.

Not that it explained why Lan Qiren was here.

“Did I – fall asleep?” he asked uncertainly, though surely that must be the reason. “And you – brought me here?”

“You did, and I did,” Wen Ruohan confirmed, and seemed amused for some reason. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Lan Qiren wracked his brain, which was hurting and unhelpful and slower even than its usual plodding pace. “…I was thinking that liquor tastes vile.”

Wen Ruohan’s smile broadened. “Mm. It seems that you inherited your grandfather’s head for wine.”

Lan Qiren’s grandfather was one of the elders who refused to obey the rule against alcohol. He had also, in his later years, developed a most un-Lan-like fondness for wine.

He had not at any point developed a tolerance for it.

Lan Qiren closed his eyes in a wince. He must have made a complete fool of himself!

“This foolish junior apologizes to the Sect Leader for his misbehavior,” he said. He wanted to lift his hands to salute, but the movement, when he started it, set off his stomach, and he was forced to wrap his arms around his midsection instead.

There was a rustling sound, robes moving as Wen Ruohan rose to his feet, but Lan Qiren kept his eyes stubbornly closed, fearing that any further input would cause him to bring up everything he’d consumed the night before – only to open them in shock a moment later when he felt a finger press against the acupoint between his eyes, a warm stream of spiritual energy pouring in to cleanse away the nausea and pain of his headache.

Of his hangover.

He had a hangover.

Wen Ruohan, the mighty Sect Leader Wen, was providing him with medical attention to deal with his hangover.

There weren’t going to be words for how much he was going to get punished when he got home.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren croaked, feeling hot all over with unending mortification. He had truly been foolish to think that just because there was only one night left in the Nightless City there was little danger of him repeating the mistakes of the past – he had no face left to speak of.

“Oh, no need to be so formal,” Wen Ruohan said, drawing out the words in a drawl. “Not after such a memorable night.”

Lan Qiren did not want to know what he did to make the night get described as memorable. He did not.

Especially not since Wen Ruohan was so obviously enjoying himself over it.

Of course, he wasn’t an idiot: he might be slow and bad at social cues, might find it difficult to understand the unspoken or keep up with sarcasm, but even he knew what was being implied here.

An older man with a younger one, liquor shared, a bedroom…

Yes, he understood the implication.

He just wasn’t stupid enough to believe it.

Lan Qiren folded his hands together and held his head up high.

“It is good that the Sect Leader did not take insult at my foolishness,” he said stiffly. “I thank you for your care and attention, and regret the burden I placed upon you.”

If anything, Wen Ruohan looked even more amused. “Such dignity, little Lan. You’re not even going to ask what happened?”

“This junior is only sixteen,” Lan Qiren said, still stiff and icy. “There is nothing that could have taken place without Sect Leader Wen’s approval, and naturally Sect Leader Wen would not permit this junior to offend his dignity.”

There, he thought with some satisfaction. That neatly turned the situation around: even if something untoward had occurred, which honestly Lan Qiren did not believe past that first initial moment of panic – even putting aside the fact that he wasn't anywhere near sore enough for something like that to have occurred, Wen Ruohan was not known to succumb easily to lust, nor was he so eager for war that he would recklessly try to deflower the son of another Great Sect while the latter was intoxicated for the first time – the blame would fall squarely on Wen Ruohan’s head, not Lan Qiren’s.

Wen Ruohan laughed, understanding perfectly well what Lan Qiren meant.

“You would think so,” he said, sounding almost approving of Lan Qiren’s rule lawyering. “I would have thought so, too, but I find that you Lan have truly remarkable arm strength…especially when trying to keep your conversational partner from escaping while you explain the difference between what the Lan sect consider to be fundamental rules and those considered ancillary.”

Lan Qiren blanched.

That was worse than what he’d thought – because unlike the notion of him making unwanted advances (or receiving them, for that matter), it was plausible. Terribly, painfully plausible.

“Oh, yes. All five iterations of the debate.”

Oh no.

“Four sect discussions. Seventeen separate texts on the subject, not counting later commentaries. Sixty-four subsidiary rulings, all of which you were very enthusiastic in recounting - and here I was thinking that your Wall of Discipline had a surfeit of rules, when in fact it was only the beginning. Apparently, I underestimated you.”

Lan Qiren buried his face in his hands as if that would make it stop. 

“Still, I suppose I’ll have to accustom myself to hearing more about the rules in the future,” Wen Ruohan mused. “We’ll be spending far more time together, after all, on account of our sworn brotherhood.”

Lan Qiren looked up and opened his mouth, then stopped.

He had nothing to say.

His mind was absolutely blank, a state which had never before occurred.

“Forgive me,” he finally spat out. “Our – what?”

Wen Ruohan smiled at him with eyes full of poison and a mouth full of teeth.

“Sworn brotherhood,” he said casually, as if it was nothing. “You were saying that you regretted not being able to see more of the Nightless City before you left, and that you could only leave the Cloud Recesses to visit family, so we became sworn brothers.”

“We did not.”

“Oh, but we did,” Wen Ruohan said. “We drank mixed wine and swore all the appropriate oaths – I have the written version here, if you’d like to see.”

The piece of paper he put in front of Lan Qiren was recognizably in Lan Qiren’s own hand, although his normally impeccable calligraphy was rather wobbly. It was still readable, though, and the first few clauses very clearly laid out a sworn brotherhood oath.

Lan Qiren stared at it.

“We – but we can’t be sworn brothers,” he said blankly. “We’re – you’re two generations older than me. Am I supposed to call you da-ge?”

“No one has called me da-ge since my youngest brother died,” Wen Ruohan mused, and Lan Qiren was abruptly reminded of the rumors, never confirmed, that that particular death had come at Wen Ruohan’s own hands following a challenge for the seat of sect leader. “It’ll be very charming, I’m sure.”

“But…”

Wen Ruohan said nothing, but only smiled at him.

Lan Qiren looked down at the paper.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

He tried to go over it again in his mind: he had left the competition when the celebration had started, he had wandered the halls, he had tried to obey his brother’s instructions in avoiding Wen Ruohan, and when that failed, he had obeyed him in trying to be obedient. He had drunk liquor for the first time, and he had no memory thereafter until he had woken up here and now, in Wen Ruohan’s bedroom, with Wen Ruohan saying that they had –

He didn’t think Wen Ruohan was teasing him over this, though. Not the way he had so obviously been with his implications that they had used the bedroom for purposes other than sleeping.

Not with evidence, written in his own hand.

He didn’t understand.

How could this have happened?

“…did we really?” he whispered, half-hoping against hope that it was still a tease, still a joke, still – something, anything, other than what it was. That Wen Ruohan was just waiting for him to declare that he believed him, to demonstrate dismay, and then he would tell him the truth.

“Yes,” Wen Ruohan said instead, inexorable. “We did.”

Lan Qiren’s mind fell into chaos.

He didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand.

“You’re shaking,” Wen Ruohan observed. “Ah, little Lan – don’t tell me it’s now that you’re scared?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were in fact shaking, he observed, and he put them over his face.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, his whole body starting to rock back and forth in his distress. “Why would you – with me – an oath of brotherhood can’t be taken lightly –”

“It can’t be,” Wen Ruohan said, and for some reason he sounded satisfied. “Certainly not for someone like you, little Lan, who always keeps their word and does not lie.”

“But why?” Lan Qiren asked, his voice rising almost into a plaintive wail. “Our sects aren’t even allies.”

“They are now,” Wen Ruohan said, and put his hand on the back of Lan Qiren’s neck. It felt hot against his skin, like a hot stone used for massage – a little too hot to tolerate for very long. “You know the obligations of a sworn brother oath as well as I. My duty as the elder brother is to guide you and care for you, support you and yours, and in return you are to obey me and be guided by me.”

Did Wen Ruohan want a spy in the Lan sect? Lan Qiren wondered wildly. But surely there were easier ways than this – not only would he make a terrible spy, with his clumsiness and his terrible social skills and his inability not to take everything seriously, but it would be simple enough for his sect to counter such a move. All they would need to do would be to cast him out…

His rocking intensified.

Wen Ruohan brought his other arm around him and pulled him close until Lan Qiren’s forehead, with its forehead ribbon still firmly in place, was pressed against his chest.

“Don’t cry, little brother,” he crooned. “Am I to allow a priceless painting to be kept by those that see it only for its use as spare kindling? A peerless treasure sword left to prop up a door?”

“You have a half-dozen swords hanging on your wall, each more priceless than the next, and all of them rusting away for lack of use!” Lan Qiren cried out. “Even if it’s only a door, at least it’s – it’s my – my brother…”

“Do not worry about your brother, undeserving as he is of your sincerity. Qingheng-jun has been trying to get concessions out of me this entire conference,” Wen Ruohan said. His breath was warm against Lan Qiren’s hair. “I’ve been refusing, but now I’ll grant them. He won’t punish you.”

“That’s not how that works. Punishment isn’t inherently bad; it’s meant to correct and guide the individual – the failure of good conduct will always be my own, no matter the result –”

“What I have taken into my hand, no one yet lives who would dare seek to take away,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, it’s too late to regret now, isn’t it? What’s done is done. Don’t you have a rule like that?”

Lan Qiren sniffed. “No. There are at least four that could potentially qualify as having similar underlying meanings, but none directly on point.”

Wen Ruohan huffed. “Little Lan, if I tore out your heart, would you have time to cite one of your sect rules before you died?”

“…maybe if it was a short one?” Lan Qiren said, blinking at the strange question; his lashes brushed against Wen Ruohan’s lapel. “I mean, there’s a difference between ‘Be loyal and filial’ and ‘Set the wise as your teacher and the moral as your example’, isn’t there? And of course you’d have to consider whether in tearing out the heart you impeded the lungs, and how much time it would take the exsanguination to take effect…”

He was calming down, he realized, and pulled back out of Wen Ruohan’s arms, blushing as he realized that the question must have been meant as a distraction, though how Wen Ruohan had realized that a distraction would be the best way to reduce his distress when even he hadn’t known, he had no idea.

“Thank you for your consideration,” he mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Wen Ruohan started laughing.  

“Truly I have found an unappreciated treasure, unlike any other,” he said amid his chuckles. “Come along, little Lan. Let’s go break the news to your brother.”

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [2] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, josei, mild angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) Notes: tbh idk how marriage works in japan, all i know is that once you have both your signatures in the marriage registration certificate with one witness then you guys r married skdjssks anyways onto the story- also might i add this is happy story?? i promise yall, all youll see is cute stuff in this story bcos fuck angst (ok maybe lil angst since you know plot development) but i stand by that nanami kento deserves that trip to malaysia under the sun with his lover! before i forget to add, the age dynamics is that y/n is around 25 and nanami is 38. no power play and all that, just two healthy consenting adults! sorry for the early delete had some minor corrections :( 

Izakaya-informal japanese bar

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next]  [updates; every friday yay!]

*13 hours earlier; a night before at some random Izakaya in Tokyo*

You sat in front of your phone and three bottles of saki, despite your friends advising you countless of times to lay off drinking too much, all sense and warnings are thrown off the window tonight.

You’re clearly far from sobriety as you recall the video chat with your otosan not looking too good and bright, “Why don’t you move back home? It’s not like the teaching job at tokyo is all that great! You’re alone there and your obachan and I don’t like that a lot…” your father’s words haunt you again and again.

Just what was wrong with living alone? And excuse your otosan but you definitely had a very good job at Tokyo High (It was a prestigious academy that paid well, best job out there that you still didn’t know how you landed). You mumbled a few curses underneath your breath, Oh, how much you love that oaf of a father and worrywart of a grandmother but could they lay off the idea of settling down? You were a responsible and good child who never had stepped a toe out of line. Wasn’t that enough already? You immediately downed the drink and let the saki burn your throat down.

“Oh ho, slow down there.” You hear someone say, “You’re all alone and it seems like you have no one to help you back home.”

It seemed like the men on the opposite side of the bar had noticed you.

“I can take myself home, thank you very much.” You mumbled, loud enough for them to hear. Unlike older men who liked to prey on you for your innocent stature. The men who sat across you in the Izakaya didn’t really exude that sort of energy (what can you say, you had a knack of experiencing that, unfortunately).

“Are you sure? We can ask the owner to call a cab for you. She’s a woman and she’s a friend of ours.” the other one in robes pipes in, wait, was that a Buddhist monk?

“No, I’m good. It’s just…” You paused before letting out a long sigh, “A bad time so I need to stick around for a bit.”

The white-haired stranger tilts his head just a bit, “Seems like you and a friend of mine are both going through some rough patches.” he replied, pointing towards his blonde company who you didn’t notice until now.

You wordlessly shifted your gaze towards the office worker next to the Buddhist monk, you hadn’t noticed the blonde man until now. It seemed like he was going through a rough time too since the pair was loud and boisterous enough to conceal his silent presence.

You notice how out of place he looks with his crisp and clean suit, hard gaze, and silence. It made you wonder what sort of man hangs out with two contrasting personalities, “You’re wondering if he’s our friend or our boss, aren’t ya?” the white-haired man asks.

You immediately turn red in embarrassment, were you that easy to read? You try to stutter out an apology but the monk waves it off, “It’s alright, we get it all the time. Contrary to popular belief, Kento is two years younger than us and is our junior from high school.” He smiles.

“Ah,” you nodded mutely, “Sorry. It definitely wouldn’t make sense to see a boss and his subordinates at an Izakaya.”

“Oh, Kento-chan doesn’t usually go out drinking but he couldn’t resist. After all, he’s a father with two very emotional teenage boys.” The white-haired man teased in a sing-song voice. It seemed like the three were close, with the way they were carelessly lounging around the stoic and kind-of scary man.

“I’m starting to wonder if he gets that teasing attitude from you.” The blonde man, seemingly out of his trance, called out his friend. Contrasting to his aloof features, he didn’t mask the annoyance in his tone.

“Oh, uh, do you need help?” you quietly asked, tilting your head to the side in wonder. The blonde man’s head snapped to your direction and quirked a brow.

“And you are?” he seemed to be calculating and observing you from head to toe. It suddenly made you a bit self-conscious because this older gentleman had no business being this good looking and scary at the same time.

“Oh, I’m Y/N by the way. I’m actually a high school teacher.” You introduced yourself sheepishly, “I’m always surrounded by angsty teenagers.”

His gaze narrowed just a bit, it seemed like he’ll be giving you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was a bit desperate since he was getting advice from a drunk stranger in an Izakaya out of all places, “So what seems to be the problem, Ojisan?”

He’s still quite hesitant so it’s his white haired friend who speaks out for him, “You see, Kento-chan here just moved last week because of a promotion from Kyoto.” he grins, telling the story for his friend, “His kids aren’t very keen with the moving, well one of them is outright showing it and the other one is well keeping it in since he’s just the sweeter one.”

The white-haired stranger keeps babbling on about how his friend had regretted taking the work promotion because it feels like he shouldn’t have done that. You peerlessly observe the older man’s reaction while his friend talks about his problems to you. He remains stoic.

It didn’t look like it but it seemed like this man had such a soft spot for his kids.

How nice, his wife must be proud of him.

“... and before I forget to add, Kento-chan is very much single.”

You almost choke on your saliva, this friend of his sure knew how to run his mouth. It suddenly dawns upon you why this man had been very worried, he was a single parent who only wanted what was best for his boys but he didn’t even know how he should proceed now.

“Um, ojisan?” You quietly call out, “I think you’re doing great.”

Silence lingered in the air for a bit, you cringed at your rather awkward and forward approach, “Excuse me?” the older blonde man asked, clearly dismayed by your response.

“It’s just…” you ears turn red, not from the alcohol but from embarrassment, “You wouldn’t have moved in the first place if the pay wasn’t better than your old job, right? Plus you’re alone and raising two kids. It definitely isn’t easy to provide for everything alone but I can see that you did some careful reevaluation on the whole thing. Obviously you can’t avoid the fact that they feel bad but you can sit them down and talk to them about how the whole thing was beneficial not just for you but for them too.”

You spoke way too quickly that you wondered if the man could understand you.

The blonde man holds his breath for a moment, “I know…” he mumbles, “I just don’t really know how to talk to them.”

“Well, maybe you could take them out?” You advised, “Spend a whole day with them for a while and just move around with them. Help them get acquainted around their new school or something!”

You watch him silently look at his glass and think it over. Man, if this guy wasn’t older, your obaasan would outright agree and tell you to go out with him since she was never fond of how men weren’t as calm or laid back as he was.

“That sounds plausible. Thank you, Y/N-san.” his voice turned a bit softer and you feel your stomach turn just a little queasy by his tone. God, was the alcohol this bad?

“Well, would ya look at that.” the white-haired man grins, placing his drink up as if he was signaling everyone to cheers with him, “I told you drinking at an Izakaya would solve all your problems. For that, we should drink here again next week!”

The man glared at him yet again, “No. I should be heading home now. I can’t be anymore away from S-”

“Ah, ah. You promised that you’d stay until 2 am.” The white-haired man hushed, “Or I’ll be pestering you for a whole month.”

You could definitely tell that a vein popped on his forehead and his blood pressure was shooting up. Man, you were really starting to doubt that white-haired man was older than everyone in this room. He sure had the mental age of an elementary student.

“You also said I could leave after five drinks.”

“That’s only your second.”

“Satoru…” the Buddhist monk dangerously hovers over his white-haired friend. Wow, middle-age men sure were amusing, “You don’t even drink that well and he has to drive home…”

“Tit for tat, I’ll hire one of my personnel to drive you home after five drinks and I’ll leave you alone for a wee-”

“Please just leave me alone for my whole life.” the blonde man deadpanned.

Unlike you, he wasn't such a bad drinker. Four bottles for him and one more drink for you later, you're both kind of woozy and you had gotten on even friendlier terms with the three men who you now know as Geto-ojisan, Gojo-ojisan, and finally, Nanami-ojisan. Nanami was well into his late thirties while Geto and Gojo were in their forties.

If you were sober, you wouldn’t be making friends with older men. With stories of how easily young people are taken advantage of in the big city, you’d swerve away from them. Luckily, it seemed like they were a good trio and not once did they invite you to sit on their table so you had some good distance between you four and so far, they hadn’t tried anything funny or uncomfortable.

Geto is currently a lawyer, Gojo’s apparently some swanky businessman of god knows what        you heard jewelry or something      and Nanami was an accountant. A job that he described was ‘dead-end’ and ‘fucking boring’.

“...What happened to your wife, Nanami-ojisan?” you ask, the alcohol slowly shedding your shyness away.

“I told ya, Y/N-chan. He never was married. The way he got the kids was just complicated!” Gojo Satoru frowns, splaying his long limbs in the air, for a man so enthusiastic with drinking, he sure got drunk pretty quickly.

“Really? Didn’t you have a hard time? Wow…” you whistled, “I have such high…” you raised your hand as high as you could, “...respects for like, single parents!”

“See? See? But he can’t get a partner because of that Y/N-chan.” Gojo pouts, “...We’ve been setting him up on dates and such but he keeps bailing on them!”

“I have kids.” Nanami deadpans, narrowing his eyes.

“What my friends are trying to say, Kento has a number of opportunities to bring a partner into his life but he likes to use the boys and his work as an excuse.” Geto surmised, it seemed like the lawyer was also starting to feel the effects of the alcohol since he had become more talkative.

“He’s good-looking, right Y/N-chan? If he probably didn’t act like some fossil from the Triassic period, he wouldn’t have a problem sometimes about the boys having a mother figure!” Gojo rants, making Nanami flick his forehead.

“Idiot, must you tell this stranger all my problems?” Nanami harshly interjected.

“Well, you do know that to actually get a partner, you must get out there, right ojisan?” you try to calm him down, you didn’t want a bar fight to erupt.

“I know.” he rolls his eyes, “But the kids-”

“I know.” You try to smile, “You aren’t very interested in bringing just anyone in your life, right? The boys need a permanent figure and you think dating around is going to help.”

“Holy shit, Y/N-chan.” Gojo exclaims, “I thought you were a teacher? How come you know all this shit?”

“It’s basic, Gojo-san.” you smile, ready to take another swig of your saki, “You should take into consideration that Nanami-san isn’t just anyone who’d settle for less. He needs stability since he’s technically a parent.”

“That makes you a perfect pair, don’t you think?” Geto nonchalantly replies, “I mean, you need a stable man in your life who has all of it figured out and wouldn’t hold you back at all while Kento here needs a person who could not only be a good parent but also be as understanding.”

“That’s…” you chuckle, he technically was right, “That’s definitely odd how all our problems will be solved if we both just went out together.”

“... looks young enough to be my child.” Nanami rejoined, “why would Y/N-san like-”

“I mean, you’re good looking.” you shrug, rather shamelessly, “I wouldn’t mind going out with you. Heck, I wouldn’t mind if I married you.”

Gojo spits out the saki he was drinking all over the table and that makes you cringe in disgust, “As long as he doesn’t get invited to the wedding. I’d marry you. If you’d like we could even get married right here, right now.” you proudly proclaim.

The blonde man is thrown off by your statement yet he’s too drunk to even sip in the seriousness of your words, “Well as much as I agree on not inviting Gojo to my wedding, I don’t know-” he tries to explain.

“You know what, isn’t Geto-san a lawyer? He could have it notarized and all that right now then we could get married. I’ll be a great mom and help you out then you could help me get my family off my back. You scratch my back, I scratch yours!”

Geto is definitely in shock, how odd was it that he even had a marriage registration certificate in his briefcase back in the car too?

You both could just sign it and Satoru could sign it as your witness and he could have it officially notarized since he had his seal back there too.

Solved.

“So, Nanami-san, what do you say? Wanna marry me?”

Oh god, were you shameless.

Who in the right mind would marry a stranger, one who was thirteen years older and a father?

One thing was for sure, your friends were right. You definitely needed to stay away from alcohol.

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

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@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya  ; ​

[ladyartemesia]

Yooo your love story straight out seems like an e2l slow burn tumblr fic. Do you have any plans using at as a plot?? I would def read it 👀

I don’t know if I would truly call it enemies-to-lovers because—although I got irritated with him and his behavior and did snap at him from time to time—we were not really enemies. In fact we were barely friends for most of the years we knew each other—

Well.

Ok. So that’s not totally true...

We fought online constantly. From the time we graduated college (where his crush first developed and I routinely forgot his name) the two of us were always fighting on social media—usually about politics—and occasionally about other things but both of us were too smart to ever truly get the better of each other so there was a grudging respect, (his mom said he used to yell at his computer screen about me). We had it OUT several times online even though we rarely—if ever—spoke in person.

My poor sweet boy DID get himself in trouble over me in more ways than one though—even if we’re weren’t close yet...

His college girlfriend set him up to fail asked him who he would date if the two of them weren’t together and he answered immediately—vehemently—

“Viola. I would definitely date Viola if I could.”

🤦🏻‍♀️ (oh...honey...no)

(That would become a huge THING in their relationship. Every time they got into a fight his ex would shout “why don’t you just go date VIOLA then?!”—When he married me he said he felt like a real winner in that particular collection of conflicts. Playing the long game I guess 🤣😂)

Back then I was all about the music/dramatic arts scene and I was dating a string of empty headed pretty boys who bored me nigh unto death because I was young and completely stupid.

In contrast my someday-boo was painfully quiet and shy (though not really with me because he was too busy trying to prove me wrong), but everyone who met him or spoke to him really liked him and respected him.

After college we were were still in the same extended social circle (and—as previously mentioned—fighting online), but I went to grad school and my not-yet-husband decided to chill for awhile and take a job as a landscaper while he figured his life out and... here’s where it gets complicated because...

—that’s where the girls came in. You see... he’s always been a really nice guy... maybe a little too nice 🤦🏻‍♀️

The term fuqboi tends to conjure up impressions of a cocky frat bro who slyly shags his way through a mountain of willing women with disconnected efficiency and a subtext of emotional constipation.

But that would not be the case here.

You see my husband is a listener. He’s an INFP. He, unlike many of his brethren, understands emotions and can really make a woman feel seen. Combine that with his good looks, brilliant mind, and broody nerditude and you have a recipe for women who were ‘just friends’ randomly dropping to their knees (and a lot more) for him.

Never one to stand in the way of a lady’s dreams, pre-me-hubby figured that if they were that determined to (*insert miscellaneous sexy stuff here*) with him then—well—he’d let them.

I mean why not, right? No harm done.

Wrong. 🤬

And here is where our paths truly began to merge (in the real world) for the first time.

As the FOURTH girl (just in my friend group) he graciously allowed (🤦🏻‍♀️) to have her wicked way with him sobbed in my arms, I became determined to put this ridiculous man-child IN his PLACE—this time in the tactile world as well as the virtual one.

...Poor Liz

She realized that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be in a relationship with anything other than his WoW account and she was insistent that he had broken her heart.

So I cornered him and we had it out. (Call me meddlesome, but to be fair he was four friends deep at this point.)

The problem was that... the more I talked to him...the more he was not really what I expected... I found myself...oddly...intrigued?

Later it would come out that I was the first girl—ever—that he actually pursued. And I was not even aware of it for like the first three months.

He was pretty slick after all when it came down to it.

That man convinced me to ‘help him’ with women—to make sure he didn’t get himself into another situation where some girl with heart eyes was tearing off his clothes and expecting commitment.

HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS ‘EXCUSE.’

🤦🏻‍♀️(...I know. I’m an idiot.)

“We can hang out. You’ll teach me how to spot if a girl is about to catch feelings and take off my pants. And I will have an excuse when they call as to why we can’t hang out” (—and ...they really were always calling. It was wild.)

....I mean he WAS shy! It SEEMED plausible!

So yeah my dim self agreed to it. (🤦🏻‍♀️)

I considered it a valiant attempt to save the rest of my social circle from the most clueless ‘accidental’ fuqboi on planet earth and maybe even an opportunity to teach him how to be a real human being and what not.

And before you think ‘fake dating’—we weren’t. We were just hanging out as friends. You see when I went to yell at him (and chased him down after he laughed at me and tried to escape) we ended up talking in his car for like four hours. And then that happened like three more times randomly so... I... actually... wanted... to be his friend... 🤷🏻‍♀️

I was still 110% not interested romantically.

Your girl (me) was after some bland banker dude (🤦🏻‍♀️) and so I blissfully fell into friendship with my actual soulmate without a single second thought. And I never worried about either of us catching feelings because I had a crush on someone else and he had heavily implied that I was not his type. (He told me later that I just assumed this and he simply never corrected me 🙄)

I don’t remember falling for him. I never decided to. I never thought about it...

But one day after the whole crew was hanging out at a restaurant (and the waiter kept giving me free drinks which may have pissed my once-and-future man off) the two of us went out to his car to have our customary three hour post-chill chat...

I was teasing him about something—some girl he was still attempting to untangle himself from—and I said—as had become my habit (seriously I said this so many times as a joke)—“It’s too bad I’m not your type—you could just tell her you have a girlfriend.”

(Now. I know what you’re thinking. But I was still firmly on team platonic ok! I was just a flirt. And maybe part of me was starting to feel weird things about him—but those feelings weren’t like anything I recognized so I thought I just needed to cut back on sugar or something.)

(Have I mentioned I’m an idiot?)

ANYWAYS he looked me right in the eye. So serious. And instead of saying “that’s too bad”—LIKE he ALWAYS did—he said—

“You...are my type, Viola... You’re exactly my type.”

To which I responded—“....What? No I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”

“Never said that. You assumed.”

“You LET me!”

—followed by a good ten minutes of me having an existential crisis/yelling at him for allowing me to believe he didn’t find me attractive and lulling me into a false sense of security. He was infuriatingly unapologetic.

At the end of it all he asked me to give him—give us—a chance.

And I agreed to go out on a few dates with him (mostly to prove to myself that there was nothing there).

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

The only thing I ended up proving was that I was wrong about what I wanted and even more wrong about what I needed.

You see...

Those weird feelings turned out to be love.

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

And it was a really special experience to sit in a room full of girls who had cried in my arms over him—girls I had lectured repeatedly on the dangers of his heartless ways— and admit that I was his girlfriend.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Love was—and continues to be—nothing like I expected and frankly I couldn’t be happier.

... to answer your questions

1. I have considered writing a fic based on our story called Broken Road. The title is taken from an old Rascal Flatts song that—as insanely cheesy as it is—really reminds me of us. Don’t know if I will actually write this. Thought about it a lot though.

2. Tags I would use for this story?

#enemies-to-lovers / #idiots-to-lovers / #college au / #outgoing!fem reader(me) x shy nerd!accidental fuqboi / #reader is also a huge nerd actually / #she’s just a loud one / #frenemies-to-lovers / #the love is requited / #they’re just idiots / #pining (his) / denial (mine) / #reader has terrible taste in men / #except for that last one / #she really redeemed herself there at the end

[tinyboxxtink]

"...So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 6*

Note I was going to put a 'rough sex' gif under the cut for Lewis's shot, but I don't know if people want that. So here's a scared Rafael for your...pleasure?

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Alright SO I posted a warning post earlier, but obviously I'm gonna put one here too.

This is probably the most graphic, dark chapter I've ever written for any story. With rape.

Please read at your own discretion.

Also it's a pretty short chapter, but trust me-- you wouldn't want it any longer. But I wrote another sweet short fluffy chapter after this one to make up for it.

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu

@believinghurts

--------------------------------

You did your best to keep calm and keep Billy happy as he aggressively groped at you with his hands, ripping off your shirt and then your bra before tossing you on the bed. Before all of this, you would have been super excited about the events transpiring. If there was one thing you and Billy were great at, it was sex. But somehow, this time it felt...different.

You didn’t know why, it didn’t make any sense to you. This was the same man, it was the same situation, he knew all your special places and you knew his. There were so many nights after he left you and the girls that you would dream about this moment, wishing for it so badly. But now that it was here, it almost felt...wrong.

“What’s wrong sweetie, you look like you’re somewhere else,” Billy stopped hungrily nibbling your neck to look into your eyes.

You used to look into those eyes and see such warmth and comfort, such lust and wanting. You had even told Rafael that you were still in love with Billy, so why didn’t you feel like it? Had they just been words? Words to hurt him because he hurt you by choosing Olivia?

Right now, that’s sure what it felt like. It felt like you were...cheating, on Rafael. Which was stupid, because you had literally just broken up with him. Didn't you? That’s what ‘done’ meant, right? Surely you had meant it in that moment; surely you meant it.

But now you weren’t sure.

“Hello, earth to Y/N!” Billy’s voice grew more agitated as he flicked you across the temple. He had never been so quick to anger before, you didn’t like this one bit.

“S-Sorry, baby,” You quickly put on a smile as your hand travelled down to his jeans, unhooking his belt. “It’s just been a day,”

“Oh, I know sweetheart,” He quickly changed his tune as soon as he felt you fondling with his belt. He helped you undo it and pulled off his jeans. You could feel his throbbing erection against your thigh.

“But daddy’s about to make it all better, I promise,” He gave you a sly grin.

You felt one hand wrap around your head and pulled it into his face even more aggressively than before. He began tugging at your hair as he attacked your neck and shoulders with hard, assertive bites. You remembered the sex between you two being rough, but you didn’t seem to recall it ever being this rough.

"Don't you like that, babe?" He asked as his mouth moved down your torso, pulling off your jeans this time.

"Mmmhmm…." You tried faking it as well as you could, feeling more and more uncomfortable the lower his mouth moved.

"Y'know, you used to be a LOT louder than this when we'd get down and dirty, baby girl," he observed while he moved to the end of the bed, ready to plunge inside you.

"Well Billy, the kids are in the next room," you thought of a plausible excuse as to why you weren't your "usual" self.

"Oh, makes sense," He nodded with a smile as he started chowing down on you like a sloppy dog.

You wanted to enjoy it, you tried to enjoy it, but you were accustomed to Rafael's sweet love making, he was so gentle with his tongue along your folds, taking time to enjoy every little moan and pleasure noise you made.You could often feel him smiling inside you while he gently lapped you up. You wished so badly you were with him right now. How had you fucked this up so badly?

Why didn't you listen to Rafael when he told you about Billy? Why had you not trusted him more? Why did you just react erratically just because you were mad at him? You should have thought it through, you should have heard him out. You should have--

"Alright now you're not even reacting Y/N, where the fuck are you?" Billy demanded.

"O-Oh I'm sorry Billy its just been--"

"A day. I know. You know I had a stressful fucking day too Y/N, having to deal with that prick ADA--- Wait," His eyes suddenly narrowed, he moved his face away from near your opening and looked you in the eyes, his glare in full effect.

Shit.

"Is that who you're thinking of right now? That fucking beaner?" He asked in an accusatory tone.

"He's Cuban not Mexican…." You muttered with a roll of your eyes.

"You really wanna get fucking cute with me right now, bitch?" He acted as if he was going to back hand you, but stopped himself.

"Billy!" You gasped. He had never been vulgar to you before.

"No, no Billy," He growled, pulling your naked body towards him.

"You're gonna stop thinking about that asshole right FUCKING now. I'm your goddamn husband, NOT him. I get to have you whenever I want and I want ALL of you. All of your attention, all of your fucking body. Do you understand me?" He snarled, practically drooling with rage.

"Y-Yes Billy," you tried not to start crying, now fully scared out your mind

"Good. Now flip over, I can't fucking look at you right now," He ordered you.

You flipped over to let him do doggie style but he started going in the wrong hole.

"Billy! What the fuck?" You tried not to yell.

"Well if you're gonna act like a whore thinking about other men than your husband, then I'm gonna fucking treat you like one. I'm gonna do what I want, and you're gonna shut up and take it. Got it?"

"B-Billy, please…." You pleaded with him. "Y-You know the last time we tried…"

"I don't give a FUCK, Y/N," He barked angrily. "I stopped last time because I didn't want to hurt you, because I loved you and you loved me. But now you've hurt me, so you're gonna hurt. REAL BAD," He barely rubbed some spit on his dick before he rammed it up your asshole.

You grabbed a pillow and screamed in pain, howling and trying to wriggle free from him. But he kept his hands wrapped tight around your stomach as he pumped rough and hard as fast as he could, getting off on the pain he was causing you, both mental and physical.

You tried to think of anything other than the pain, but it was so bad you could only cry and continue to scream into the pillow. It was worse than both times you went through labor, and that was saying something.

You prayed to God it would stop soon, he seemed to go on forever and ever. He was cackling softly as he felt you vibrating from the pain.

"Yeah, bet your fucking ADA didn't do you like this did he? What would he do if he saw you now? Hmmm….maybe we should find out,"

Your head snapped from out under the pillow at his threat. You saw him reaching for your phone that he had dropped next to your bed as he carried you into the bedroom.

"Oh God" You practically choked out, unable to speak from the pain. "N-n-no, Billy d-d-don't…"

"Oops would ya look at that I already did," Lewis shrugged with an evil smile.

----

Rafael was busy helping Olivia plan a rescue mission/battle plan when his phone went off. A FaceTime call request from you. He was absolutely terrified to answer it, but he had to answer it. He had to. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.

"Hey there Barba'' Lewis panted, a maniacal smile on his face. "You're missing all the fun!"

He could see Lewis had you pinned to the bed, shoving in and out of you forcefully. Your head was shoved into a pillow, to keep from screaming he imagined. He didn't know if he wanted you to look at him or not. He was watching you get raped, and he wanted to vomit.

Olivia noticed the horrified look on his face and stopped talking with the squad.

"Rafa are you-- ohmygod!" She instantly saw the revolting scene on his phone and immediately started pushing him into an interrogation room.

"Nobody needs to see this," Olivia started to shut the door but not before Lewis got to shout "NICE TO SEE YOU TOO DETECTIVE!!" At her.

Rafael was trying his best not to start sobbing; he didn't want to give Lewis the satisfaction. But the more he heard your muffled whimpers and screams of pain, the more he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Lewis let her go," he begged. "Please I'll do anything you want, just let her go…."

"Well see Barba that's the problem," Lewis smirked. "I want Y/N to--" he suddenly stopped pumping you, feeling your body go limp. He angled the phone downward to reveal blood coming out of your anus and starting to cover the bed. You had passed out from the pain.

"Sorry Barba I'm gonna have to call you back, I have a situation," Lewis half laughed while wiping your blood off his dick.

"What the fuck-- LEWIS!!!" He screamed. "You better be calling a FUCKING ambulance!"

"Chill Barba, I'm sure she's fine. Just a little boo boo. I'll shove some toilet paper up there and she'll be good as new!" Lewis dismissed it, taking a pillow and putting it under your legs so the blood would at least attempt to stay in.

“Good ol’ RICE,” Lewis smirked, thinking of the old term they used in gym class back in the day. ‘Rest Immobilize Cold Elevate’.

“Now if I can get an ice pack from the freezer and tape it there…” Lewis thought out loud.

"Fuck you if you don't call one I will send one, I know exactly where you are" Rafael was losing his patience with him.

"NO, you're not," Lewis warned. "I'm not about to scare my girls by having cops and ambulances showing up here with all the bells and whistles,"

"She's going to DIE, asshole!!!" Rafael continued to scream. "You think your daughters won't notice THAT?"

"Look if she doesn't wake up in a few minutes I'll take her to an Urgent Care, tell 'em she liked it a little TOO rough, Kay?" He said flippantly.

"The fuck you will--" Rafael started to tell again but Lewis put the phone up to his face real nice and close.

"If you send ANYONE here Barba, she'll bleed out before you can touch her," He warned.

"Lewis…" Rafael was shaking. "Don't you love her? You told her you did, don't you care about her at all?"

"Of course I love her!" He snapped. "I'll always love her, she's the mother of my children. That creates a bond, greater than the two of you will ever have,"

"So why are you---"

"Because she needed to be reminded of that bond." Lewis explained. "She was thinking about you while WE were being intimate. I can't let shit like that slide, Barba," Lewis explained while gesturing to your unconscious body. He removed the pillow from your head so Rafael could the tear stained splotches on your face from screaming and crying so hard. Your face was almost white, he wasn’t even sure you were breathing.

"No…." Rafael's voice fell soft.

You had been thinking of him? Wishing you were with him? While Lewis was...having his way with you? He had caused this, he had caused your pain. You were being punished for simply loving him, and that broke his heart even more than it already was.

"You have a nice night there, counselor, ta!" Lewis's evil chuckle came through the screen before it went black.

The image of your body laying there unconscious and bleeding was going to be forever burned into Rafael's mind. He had to do something. SOMETHING.

He bursted out of the interrogation room where the team was still discussing strategy. Olivia immediately went to his side, knowing what he had just been through.

"Liv we--" he tried to stop from crying and compose himself. "We have to go there. We have to get her. We HAVE to,"

"Okay, Okay Rafa," Olivia tried to calm him down while the rest of the squad looked on in shock. They had zero idea what was happening.

"We'll go get her, it'll be okay," She assured him while trying to get him to calm down.

He hoped they wouldn't be too late.

[your-eternal-muse]

Sight For Sore Eyes

Heather Series Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

BONUS: Readers Card Confession BONUS: Spencer’s Take Series Playlist

Summery: Reader bares witness to the final moment of Spencer and Heather’s relationship, and when comforting Spencer, something unexpected happens.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Cheating, angry Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (It’s happening fuckers.)

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say, except go nuts. I almost screamed writing this.

~~~~~

Eavesdropping isn't really my thing.

I find it impersonal, and kind of bitchy.

I mean, you're basically listening on someone else's conversation, snooping on drama that doesn't concern you.

Only, this kind of does concern me.

Since, you know, if it weren't for me, Spencer and Heather wouldn't be huddled in a conference room, arguing about their impending divorce 

I should feel worse about it than I do.

But I don't.

Spencer is broken.

She ruined him.

And trust me, I know because I'm the one who he's been coming to.

The whole thing sort of forced us back together, but if I'm being honest, I didn't really fight it. Like, at all.

Again I should feel bad, about how selfish it is to take pride in the fact that a man who's going through a divorce finds solace in my arms.

But you know what?

I really don't give a shit anymore.

I've spent the past almost three years doing everything to appear nice and selfless and it led me down a road that almost killed me.

So fuck it.

I exposed her cheating ass, punched her in her stupid face, fell asleep with her husband while laying on my couch and now I'm listening in as he serves her the divorce papers.

I'm not even trying to be subtle about it, and the team isn't being subtle about finding my snooping funny.

JJ passed and asked for an update, Derek just chuckled, and ruffled my hair, Hotch closed his blinds so he can have plausible deniability and the rest of them just smile as they watch.

I do have a back up plan though, just in case.

I hold a file in my hand that I can open and pretend to be reading as I walk in to get Spencer's opinion. Or something.

Right now though, I'm leaning against the door frame, listening and watching through the sliver of a crack that the door is open from when Heather closed it.

Heather sits with her back towards me, her hands folded in her lap, the papers and a pen sitting on the table in front of her, while Spencer stands, stoned face in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sign the papers, Heather."

I can hear her sniffle, and she shakes her head. "No. I love you, we can make this work."

“'We’ aren't doing anything. 'We' are getting a divorce because 'you' cheated on 'me' for almost our entire marriage. Sign the papers."

He was assertive, the pain and anger evident in his voice as he points to the packet on the table.

I'm not gonna lie, it's kinda hot.

"It's only been six months. What do you want me to do? It was a mistake, a stupid mistake." She's actively crying now, and she stands, making her way over to him, wrapping her hands around one of his biceps.

He stares down at her.

"I love you, Spence."

Hey bitch, that's my nickname for him, get your own. Wait no, I take that back. You can just fuck right off, how's that?

One of her hands comes up to cup his cheek, and anger boils in my stomach.

He uncrosses his arms, and brings a hand up to cover hers, and I hold my breath.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling it from his face while he pulls her hand from his bicep with his other hand.

He holds both of her wrists in his hands, pushing her away from him.

"That's not love."

Haha. Bitch.

"And it wasn't a mistake. You kept going back to him. Over and over again, instead of dealing with your problems and talking to me. Now," he turns her, and pushes her towards the table. The way she falls forward, stumbling into it makes it look like he shoved her harder than he did.

"Sign the fucking papers."

She grabs the pen, crocodile tears streaming down her face. 

Her look goes from pleading, to furious in a second.

"You're gonna run back to her, aren't you?" She scoffs, straightening up. "How do I know you didn't cheat on me first?"

He leans in close to her, brushing hair behind her ear.

I almost fall into the room, leaning in so close to make sure I can hear what he says, my heart pounding.

"What or who I do, is no longer any of your business. Now I'm not going to ask again. Sign the papers, or I will gladly get my lawyer and make your life a living hell."

She's no longer crying, but the annoyance is radiating off of her.

She's pissed.

She huffs, leaning forward, and signs her name. She flips through, repeating the action until she's done.

She tosses the pen onto the table. 

"You're gonna regret this. I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you."

He actually laughs, and I want to applaud him.

"Yeah, sure you are. I want your stuff out by this weekend."

She grabs her purse off the table, walking towards the door at a quick pace.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I barely have time to open my file and take a few steps back to make it seem like I was walking up before she's opening the door, almost running into me in the process.

Her eyes meet mine, and I can't help the smirk spread across my face.

She glares, her hand coming up to her still bandaged nose, before shoving past me.

I watch her walk to the end of the hall before turning back to the room, where Spencer now stands with his hands in his packets.

I hold up the file, ready to start my spiel, but he starts talking before I can get the chance.

“I could see you.”

My mouth falls open and he smiles.

How the fuck…

“I could also smell your perfume.” He looks down at the papers, starting to flip through them to double check that she signed everything.

He could smell my perfume?

I walk into the room, closing the door fully behind me.

Wouldn’t want anyone to listen in now would we?

“How do you know it’s mine?” I place the file on the table, as he closes the packet.

He looks up at me, and my knees turn to jello.

“Because I smell it on your skin every time we hug.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, but he keeps talking.

“Smells like home to me.” He runs a hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the next, now looking down at the table instead of me. “You’re home to me.”

You’re killing me, smalls.

I walk over to where he’s standing, and open my arms. 

I watch as his shoulders deflate as he sighs, walking forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. 

My arms slink around his neck, and I now understand how he can smell it. His nose is pressed to the crook of my neck, right where I put it in the morning.

“You’re my home too.” I whisper, turning my head, and inhaling the scent of his hair. It’s such a uniquely Spencer scent. I wish I could bottle it, make a candle out of it so that I can smell him whenever I want.

We break after a few minutes, and I trail my hands down his arm.

He entangles his fingers of one hand into my own.

“You okay?”

He sighs, looking down at our hands as he plays with my fingers. “I will be.”

He sits on the edge of the table, and I follow suit, being sure not to break the link our hands have created.

“If I hadn’t seen you, if you hadn’t been there watching, I’m afraid of what I might have done.” He swallows, and his eyes won’t meet my own. “It scared me.”

He finally looks up, and a small fire is lit behind those hazel eyes of his. 

“It scared me, because for a moment, I wanted to hurt her. She has made me so, angry, she’s made me feel so fucking stupid and all I wanted to do was make her feel that too.”

I fully grab his hand, the absence of his ring pressing against my palm.

“I know that feeling. But, as much as you wanted to, I don’t think you would have. You’ve got too much of a good conscience to do something like that.”

I feel him squeeze my hand. 

“However, I am more than willing, so you tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

That got him to laugh, and he shakes his head at me. He becomes quiet quicker than I’d like. 

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Hey,” I reach up and grab his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. “I have the perfect amount of faith in you, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re a good man, no, a great man, through and through. I guarantee you that you are the best thing that has ever or will ever happen to her. If she doesn’t realize that, well, that’s her loss. Not yours.”

I swipe some hair out of his face, and his eyes bore down into mine. 

Something about the look on his face makes my heart start to race. 

It resembles what I assumed I looked like that day in the restaurant, only he also looks like he’s about to cry.

My face scrunches in confusion. “Are you okay, Spence?”

“God, I love you.”

His hands are on either side of my face and his lips are on mine.

His lips are on mine. 

He’s kissing me.

Spencer Reid, the man whom I have been in love with for the past ten fucking years is kissing me.

Kiss him back, you dumb bitch!

My hands immediately go to his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt in my fists, pulling him as close as possible to me.

I have dreamt about this moment.

Since the day I met him, I have dreamt about what kissing him would feel like. 

And now that it’s here, I can safely say, that my dreams don’t compare to the real thing.

His lips are soft and they lead in such a way that doesn’t make it feel like he’s doing all the work. 

It’s the perfect amount of push, the perfect amount of pull.

Kissing him is perfect.

But then he breaks it, as if remembering where he was, and the moments that had led up to it. 

He looks utterly terrified, like he just ruined the one thing he had left.

We're both breathless for a moment, and then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Before I can react, he picks up the packet of paper and all but runs out of the door. 

I come to my senses quick enough to go after him, following him out into the bullpen. 

“Spencer!” I stop, out of breath, and confused as hell.

He exits through the glass doors, his hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on? Did something happen?” JJ walks up, eyes looking at the space that Spencer had occupied before turning to look at me. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to cry. What happened?”

My fingers float over my lips, still warm from the energy of the kiss. 

“He kissed me.” It’s barely above a whisper, like if I say it louder than that, it’ll cease to exist.

“He did? Why did he run then?”

“I don’t know.” 

The kiss isn’t what's confusing me at the moment though, oh no. 

What’s making it hard to breath right, let alone think, was the statement he whispered right before he kissed me.

A statement I never even thought I would hear him say.

God, I love you.

I must be hearing things. That can’t be what he said. He told me himself, that night on the balcony, he doesn’t love me.

No.

I may not have a memory like his, but I could never forget something like that.

He loves me. 

He loves me.

Spencer Reid loves me.

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