#and throwing up and headaches for several hours

[apatheticsunday]

Skittles-Flavored Fear

AKA "The Batfam rescue several Gotham-U students from Scarecrow's latest hostage situation. However, Dr. Jonathan Crane becomes obsessed when one student has a strange reaction to the Fear Toxin - extreme exhilaration and giddiness." Based on this prompt!!

Danny knows Ghosts feed on intense emotion to survive; he's never had to, never wanted to because it feels... parasitic. He never thought he'd be drugged with it. Sitting among his fellow students, tied up as the Straw Man or whatever monologues about his evil plans, Danny thought the worst thing that could happen would be hallucinating a dissection table. Maybe the GIW or his parents with gleaming googles and scalpels at the ready.

He doesn't even realize they're already being gassed until Danny takes a breath and tastes... skittles? Like, taffy, frosted cream, and melty-sweet syrup. The more he breathes it in, the more he feels strangely floaty. His head feels both heavy and light, stuffed with cotton, and he can barely even hear. (If he could hear, he'd probably would be horrified by his classmates screaming, writhing in terror all around him like a swarm of buzzing locusts.)

And then somebody - The Straw Man - is looming in front of him, grabbing Danny by the face, and curiously tilting his head. After a moment of contemplation, Straw Man rummages around in his satchel before Danny gets freaking hosed in the face with a concentrated dose of Fear Toxin. And then everything gets better worse. Danny feels euphoric. He's giggling, smiling, head so clouded from the high that he doesn't even notice even Dr. Crane drags him through the crowded lecture hall. Doesn't notice when two goons grab him by the arms and start to haul him toward the exit.

What he does notice is the Straw Man's body slamming into the wall. Several figures blur in shades of black, blue, green, and red as Danny squints to try and focus on at least one of them. Then, somebody - blue and black - is at his side. Danny kind of... slides down the hero's side, legs too wobbly to hold himself up, until the hero has to prop Danny into a half-laying-half-sitting position. Danny's still giggling, slurring something and his hand somehow finds the hero's face, patting it in thanks for the rescue.

It's only when the Big Bat comes over, fits an odd-shaped mask over Danny's face, that he stops smelling candy. Instead, he smells something putrid, almost like formaldehyde, sweat, and... unmentionable body fluids. Danny's head is throbbing like brain freeze and a pressure headache, nausea so intense he can taste it in the back of his throat and cramps in his stomach. One moment he's mumbling 'm gon' throw up and the next he's ripping the mask off his face. Turns to the side and... barfs on Batman. (If he were more coherent, he'd probably be mortified. Maybe even die again of embarrassment. Worse when Nightwing cackles uncontrollably from beside him. Ancients, he'd petted Nightwing!! On the freakin' face!!)

That's the last thing that Danny remembers. He wakes up in the hospital several hours later, several texts from Jazz, Sam, and Tucker saying they're taking the next flight to Gotham. Danny flops back into the hospital bed and groans. Groans louder when he remembers what happened in the lecture hall. At least there's probably a very small amount of people who can say they barfed on the Dark Knight of Gotham and got away with it, right?

(Cue Scarecrow constantly trying to kidnap Danny and the Batfam being put on Danny-watch to make sure he's safe. Maybe also trying to figure out why Danny reacts differently to Fear Toxin, but assume he's an undocumented meta with a unique biology. Danny absolutely thinks he's being stalked by Batman as revenge.)

[catierambles]

Once in a Blue Moon Ch. 25

It was late afternoon by the time Samantha woke, Sy and Mike having gone back to the cabin, packed, and returned before she emerged from August’s room.

“How’d you sleep, baby?” Sy asked, pulling her against his chest and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Okay, I guess.” She said, “With August holding me hostage, I couldn't do much else.”

“Princess, if I had been holding you hostage, you'd still be in my bed.” August said simply and she arched a brow at him. “Leon got back to me, a cleaning crew is going to come out and deep clean the house in the next couple of days.”

“Yeah?” Sy asked and he nodded.

“Turns out they don’t just “clean up” after territorial disputes.” He said, “They do actual cleaning as well.”

“Good.” Sy said, “Johnny-Boy’s aftershave is startin’ to give me a headache.”

“I washed the bedding.” Geralt said, “And remade the bed.”

“I had to help.” Walter added, “The fitted sheet was the worst.”

“It should help you sleep.” Geralt said and she nodded, relaxing against Sy’s chest and breathing in deep through her nose, trying to fill her nose with his scent instead of the one firmly lodged in it.

“We also opened the windows and let some fresh air in.” Walter said, “Should help as well.”

“I’m sorry.” She said, burying her face more in Sy’s chest.

“You got nothing to apologize for, sweetcheeks.” Mike said, “If it helps you, we don’t mind doing it.”

“I’ve been nothing but a burden on you guys.”

“Bullshit.” Sy said simply, “This was the best outcome from one of Mikey’s fuck-ups we coulda asked for. We got our Mate.”

“At least we didn’t have to bail him out of town lock-up again.” Geralt said and she gave him a questioning look. “He tends to get into fights when he goes out by himself to the bar.”

“Only when some jackass can’t take no for an answer from a girl.” Mike said in his own defense. “I never throw the first punch, but I always throw the last.”

“Just like I taught ya.” Sy said, “Never start a fight, always end one.”

The next day, Sy and Walter pulled the rest of Jonathan’s things out of the closet and dressers, tossing it all into trash bags and throwing them in the garage.

“He’s about Mr. Solo’s size.” Samantha said, “You think he’d like his suits? He’d probably have to get them tailored, but I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“No, he won’t accept second-hand suits.” August said, “They’re also too cheep for him.”

“They’re three-thousand dollars suits.” Samantha said after a pause and he looked up at her from his phone. “Each.”

“I said what I said.” August said, “I’ll let him know you offered, though. He’ll appreciate the gesture.”

“Can you also let him know I have records and a computer for him?” She asked and he gave her a questioning look. Going into the now half-empty closet, she went to the back and knelt by the large safe in the bottom, punching in a code and opening the door, pulling out several heavy ledgers and binders. “Mike?”

“Yeah?” He asked around August who had followed her and was standing in the closet doorway.

“Can you go into the office and disconnect the tower?” She asked, “We can put your tower in there and you can use the monitors.”

“Yeah.” Mike said, “I was looking at that ultrawide monitor anyway and wondering if it would fit on my desk.”

“I’m guessing these are all “church” records?” August asked and she nodded. “Oh he’ll be thrilled, and because you own the house and all the contents inside, it’s not theft as you handed it over willingly.”

“Exactly my thoughts.” She said and he helped her carry out the safe contents, putting them on the bed and leaving only to grab a box that he had used to transport some of his things from the cabin, sending a quick message to Napoleon letting him know.

Napoleon was there in less than an hour, which made her wonder if he lived nearby, even though she thought he would live in Washington DC. August moved his SUV so Napoleon could back into the garage just in case Jonathan had someone watching the house.

“Pretty sure it’s not my nameday.” Napoleon said as he opened the trunk of his luxury sedan, “But this is the best present I could ask for. Do you know what’s in the records?”

“Not entirely.” Samantha said, “I know it’s congregation records and that he forbid me from going on that computer.”

“Password protected?” Napoleon asked and she nodded. “That’s easy enough to get past.”

“Can you promise me you will only use the information in those records to...hurt Jonathan and not the others?” She asked, “They’re good people, and it’s not their fault they’re being taken advantage of and manipulated.”

“If—if—I find anything that implicates him or anyone else in his dealings or anything explicitly illegal, I will make sure it gets the proper authorities. I’m not in the business of blackmail.”

“Since when?” August asked and Napoleon shot him a look.

They took her back to the cabin when the cleaning crew showed up early one morning so they didn’t get in anyone’s way, and so she could flush the scent from her nose with the mountain air before returning when they were done. Sy let them know where they would be and to call any one of them once they were done, also calling Jack and letting him know what was going on in case Jonathan tried to take the opportunity of them not being there to pull something.

She and Mike lay on the couch, Samantha dozing on his chest with their legs tangled, a throw blanket covering them.

“Hey, Sam?” He asked and she hummed at him, not opening her eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Why—are you sure you love me?” That made her open her eyes and she picked her head up, looking at him. “I mean, I attacked you. I hurt you. I tore your humanity away and nearly killed you. I remember you said you were going to—what you had planned that night, but I almost did it for you.”

“Mike...”

“And seeing you with the others, seeing how happy they make you. I just—they’re Alphas, and you’re an Omega, mostly, and I’m not, I’m just some Beta who can’t protect you and again, I almost killed you.” She was quiet as he spoke and she reached up when the stream of words had stopped, touching his face gently.

“Mike.” She said and gave a sigh before shifting position, straddling his hips and moving so she was eye to eye with him. “I love you.”

“But I—” She silenced him with a kiss and his chest deflated with a sigh. “I love you, too.” She just kissed him again, easing down onto his chest, and his arms came around her. A shiver raced down her spine as his hands pushed down her back, palming her ass and squeezing.

“Mike.” She whimpered, rolling her hips against him. He pulled up the lacrosse jersey she was wearing, one of his from high school, sliding his hands under her small clothes to grab her fully. Samantha raised herself only so much as to reach between them, helping Mike shove down his sweatpants. Moving aside her small clothes, she kept her eyes locked on his as she stroked him to full hardness before aligning them and guiding him into her.

“Fuck, Sam.” He sighed, his head falling back against the couch and she started to ride him, rolling her hips against him. She was mindful that they were still in the living room and the one of the others could come downstairs at any time. His arms came around her again as she buried her face in his neck, the springs of the couch starting to protest as the movements of her hips quickened. He pressed against that spot inside her with each roll of her hips, the coil tightening in her lower stomach as his base put friction against her clit. His hands gripping her ass guided her movements and tears pricked at her eyes as the sensations started to become overwhelming.

“F-fuck.” She almost sobbed and threw all caution out the window, sitting up on him and rocking her hips, balling the jersey up by her stomach so he could see himself move inside her.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He whispered, looking between them before his head fell back again. “Fuck.” He breathed and she fell forward again, kissing him, letting him swallow the sounds she was making as she pushed them further and further. Samantha tucked her face into his neck, his arms coming around her and her cry as she tumbled over the edge was muffled against his skin. His hands went to her hips, keeping her moving, and it wasn’t long before he joined her, his jaw clenching and his head going back as he released inside of her.

“I love you.” She breathed, taking her face from his neck to kiss him and he held the back of her neck, keeping her close.

“I love you too.” He said, moving the tip of his nose over her face before pressing another soft kiss to her lips. “We are so lucky no one decided on a trip to the kitchen.”

“Yeah.” She said with a weak chuckle. “Let’s not press our luck and move this to your room. I need you again.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He said and she moved off him, fixing her underwear and tugging the jersey straight as he shoved himself back in his pants before getting off the couch. Taking his hand, she led him up the stairs, his room door closing behind them.

Later, Sy walked through the living room but stopped, his brow furrowing and he sniffed the air slightly before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Really?”

[birdinhere]

Watching greys anatomy for the 6th time so it’s gonna be everyone’s problem FUCK IZZY STEVENS I HATE HER ‼️‼️

[dawnwriterimagines]

Innocents among you

Part Two to TRAITORS AMONG US

SIMON RILEY X FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 X FEM!READER

Summary: Your torture is over, but is it really? There is only the torment in your mind now. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the flowers at your hospital bed and the tormentors awaiting the relief of your forgiveness.

Part 3!!

Part 4

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

You flatlined twice, almost as soon as you were handed off to the medics.

Committing themselves to doing CPR before bringing in the defibrillator for an electric charge to your sudden cardiac arrest. "Clear!" They restarted your heart just outside the hallway of your cell, Simon held back by Price as your heart stopped again within the same minute and panic ensued. Johnny and Kyle hearing the news, rushing up towards the hall, their footsteps probably the echo that you held onto as your heart rate picked back up.

Clearly, you lived.

You didn't have the luxury of going comatose immediately after. As you would've preferred.

You'd awoken hours after the medical team carried you off to the infirmary. Still on edge, still plagued by discomfort and cold, despite the lights of the recovery facility and the nurses that paraded around you.

Morphine wears off in about 6 hours, so you were up wailing in agony within the same time. Clearly no one expected you up so soon, but you hadn't slept in days, at least not more than an hour. Jerking up involuntarily, hands all over you to keep you down and steady, you could hear a familiar doctor's attempt to calm you down. But, the blistering pain that radiated from every pore in your body was ringing so loud, a present noise that blocked everything out.

So, at first, you'd been terrified, attempting to clutch onto the first thing you'd woken up to. But, you couldn't move, at least not voluntarily.

With the damage to your spine for countless hours, days, and what you had discovered to be two fucking weeks of endless torture, you'd undergone three difference corrective surgeries that would 'possibly' fix the nerve and circulatory damage done to you. It had left you nearly completely immobile since your admission into the infirmary. The doctors were quite astonished that you were even alive...

The nurses were patient enough with your panicked state to slowly ease you out of your stupor. But, at times it wasn't easy, especially when you didn't even know where you were at first. Since you couldn't see...

You were blind for about four days. Everything a tinted red for a few more after you'd regained your sight.

Fevers plagued you for the week, skin that was raw and inflamed from the severe cold and constant dousing from the pipes, you couldn't move if you wanted to.

The first thing you'd been graced to see were the multiple arrangements of flowers, lilies, white tulips, hydrangeas, roses...typical assortments of regret and remorse.

"Can someone throw these away?" had been your first words.

The nurse who had been checking over your vitals looks over at the flowers, the were all over the desk, even on the floor lining the windows, once they ran out of space to put them. It was beautiful. But, she knew why. Everyone knew why. You were quite famous here in the infirmary, as you were in special unit. "Of course."

They were out within the day. The room bare once more.

And then you saw them outside your infirmary window. Just a glimpse. Around the time you were still getting your sight back.

Seeing them for the first time since everything made bile build up in your throat, a screaming fear that created a pulsing headache.

Kyle, Johnny, Price and...you didn't see Simon.

Price was...a statue. Not moving an inch. His hand against his mouth, covering up the aching distress anyone could see on his face.

Kyle was pacing, back and forth and back and forth. Making an offhanded comment at one of them every few seconds.

But, Johnny was talking, pointing spitefully at someone out of your view.

He was there too then. Simon.

Turning away from the window, you couldn't look at them anymore.

"Don't let them in," you breathe out to your doctor as she sets down a trayed mug on your sliding table as she sits you up to drink a hot cup of tea, which you had requested. "Any of them. Please." You were still so cold, you couldn't imagine dealing with any type of cold weather for a while after dealing with this.

She's confused a moment, before turning to the doorway, where she recalled seeing the four men waiting outside in the hallway. She's seen them just sitting there for days now, they wouldn't beg or argue to come in, they'd just wait. It's not like you were cleared for visitors yet anyway.

Every morning she clocked in for the job, there they were. Sitting there like abandoned children, awaiting the moment the door would open to be welcomed inside.

It was like they never left.

Of course she knew who they were to you. Word spreads fast on the base. Especially for a Task Force as 'famous' as they were around here.

Squeezing your shoulder, comfortingly. Feeling protective, your doctor spoke, "Of course," she slides the mug forward a bit, taking the teaspoon to stir once and lift it to toward your lips to sip. "Blow," she guided.

You did. And sipped.

And it was warmer than any blanket they'd wrapped you in.

---

Prior to being able to trudge around on your own, with the help of a crutch you'd been given to go to the bathroom by yourself finally, the nurses had sponged you down in bed. Your spinal surgeries led to you being at risk if they made efforts to remove you from your bed for anything more than a medical emergency.

Mostly, because you're terrified of the showerhead....and it's pathetic, but no one judges you for it as you opt for a sponge bath every time instead. Even if you're shaking as the water slides down your skin even now. The last thing you needed on top of all this was to develop aquaphobia.

Today was the first day you could do it on you own, limping your way to the bathroom with your crutch. The smell of bleach is much stronger in here, it stings your nose.

You stared at the metal stool left tucked at the side, walking around it as if it would pounce up and attack you, you try not to look at it. You'd been doing well without panic attacks for a few days now, just hold it together.

Taking a breath, you reach out to the handle for the spout, glancing up at the showerhead, before back down. Swallowing thickly when you begin to turn it before pausing, hearing the water rush up the pipe to spill out. Turning it back up just as quickly, shutting off the pipe, you inhale deeply, trembling now, hand up to the chilled tile to steady yourself.

You'll try again, you had to.

Drip...

Drip...

Unable to help yourself, the sudden rush of paranoia that runs through you is terrible, a hoarse cry leaves you. You shove yourself away from the shower stall, back ramming into the doorframe, catching yourself, and away from the showerhead as the water drips, slowly from the faucet.

Drip...

Drip...

As panic tightened its grip around your chest, your breaths quickly turned to short, sharp gasps. The room spinning, colors blurring into a dizzying whirlwind. You turn swiftly, nearly knocking yourself off your feet as the thudding of your own heart startles you, you can hear it in your ears, in your hands, in your feet.

You press a trembling hand to your chest, clawing over the area, trying to slow the frantic pace of your breathing, but it only seemed to escalate. The small room narrowing to a black hole of fear and suffocation, every gasp began to disorient you, turning lightheaded.

As tears welled in your eyes, you collapse against the side wall, sliding down to the tiled floor. Slamming your palm against your chest, once, twice, as hot tears leave streaks down your bruised face, you beg your lungs to expand and wait for your breathing to regulate.

Beginning to sob uncontrollably as you hit yourself in the chest again and again and again, waiting for the moment you found yourself able to breathe.

Why did this have to happen?

You remember the violent swing of the baton against your face, the sting it leaves afterwards, the immediate spotting of bruises forming. The memory startles you, receding back into yourself, back to that day.

"It wasn't me..." you cried loudly, in the empty room. It echoes against the tiles.

Simon wrapping his hands around your neck, staring you down as he squeezed, maliciously. You couldn't breathe as your lover shook with the strength he uses to hold himself back from taking your life.

"I'm sorry," you hiccupped. "I'm--I'm sorry," you're not sure when you crawled yourself into the corner, the lights of the bathroom flickering off dimly from your lack of movement. As you're drowned in darkness, the water dripping from the spout, the cold tile against your skin, it's too much. You scramble upwards, running out of the bathroom.

The automatic lights flicker back on inside, but you're too in your head to notice.

Stumbling down to your knees as you feel the rip of a ruined stitching tearing along your side. "Ah!" comes your startled cry. Making it to the side of your hospital bed, you fist your hand through your sheets, unable to stand yourself up.

Taking pained breaths against the sterile sheets, you bury your head in them, cursing whatever luck you thought you had in this life.

They were your family...

All you had for so many years...

As your breathing slows to distraught, agonized huffs of air, sniffling to yourself as you catch sight of your face in the metal frame of your hospital bed. The dark purple bruises beneath your eyes as the swelling gradually went down, the still bloodshot left eye of yours, the twelve stitches on the left side of your face. So gruesome you knew it would scar you for life, a permanent reminder on your fucking face.

Anger bubbled up inside you at the sight of it. At the memory that would always follow when you'd look at it.

Anger that you hadn't been able to properly feel until now.

Anger that you feared to have until today.

"Are you alright?" the sound of his voice makes you visible tense.

Simon.

He's here.

You don't turn to face him, if you did, you'd revert back to the person you were cowering into moments ago. "The door was open...I just--" he pauses, swallowing thickly. "Lemme help you up."

Hearing his footsteps suddenly moving closer, you speak fast. "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" you scream over your shoulder, tucking yourself further away from him. "Do NOT move."

He stops in his tracks. You catch the sight of him in the metal framing of the bed, he's a blur in the metal, but you notice his mask is gone, he's Simon Riley now, not Ghost as he appeared to you in the interrogation cell.

"Don't you dare get any closer," you spat.

"I heard you," he spoke, carefully. Mouth opening and closing, before speaking again. "But, you don't have to be stubborn. If you stay there any longer you could tear your stitches."

"Whose fault is that?"

Simon shifts his stance on his feet, waits a second. "I know. And I can never begin to tell you how sorry I am for what I did. What we all did to you," he says, quietly. "The intel we discovered...or that was forged, it came from a source we've used a dozen times, (Y/n), we thought it was true. It had to be. We've never been misled before."

"So..." your nails bite into your skin, you make an amused sound, biting down on your lip for a moment, till it hurt. " That's what you came here to say, huh? What you waited days to--. Is this you justifying--"

"No, (y/n), that's not--"

"--why you tortured me, strangled me, stripped me, in that fucking cell, Simon?"

"We had to believe it, at the time..."

"Was I not a trusted source?" you argued. "Had I not proven more than a thousand times that you could trust me? I've fought next to you, laid in your bed, given you my love, my trust, I--" you shook with rage at the time and energy wasted on time family, this relationship, if the end goal was always meant to just be this.. "I thought that was at least half the reason you decided to marry me..." at the mention of your relationship, you could see the way Simon nearly lost his balance, hands coming up to run along his face. "You told me you would kill me in that room..."

"I was just talking, I wouldn't have--" his voice cracks as he whispers, trying to convince.

"When you left, I thought you'd come back to kill me any minute, or Price, to spare you. I waited to die for two days, terrified out of my mind. I wondered about heaven, not if I'd make it... but what it'd be like, what I'd be missing out on," you thought back to your time in that cell, a haunted expression Simon couldn't see. "While you all got a good nights rest, woke up for some bacon and eggs, and listened to the warden tell you that your prisoner was framed...for a crime you'd already punished her for..." you stuttered on your breathing, tears flowing silently.

Simon inhales deeply. "I could never expect you to forgive me. I-I had taken my hurt out on you, I thought you did it, I was so sure. I couldn't hear what you were saying, I just could see the evidence, and I--I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love. I'm truly--" he gets to his knees behind you.

"Get up."

"I can never tell you how sorry I am---"

"Simon."

"I never should've done this to you. If I could ever--" his voice rising with distressed breaths, you didn't have to look at him to see his face a mess of sorrow, tears that would mix into the stubble on his face.

"Simon!"

"--make it up to you. If you could ever find it in your to forgive me, (y/n). I'll spend the rest of my life--" he gets closer, reaching out.

Whipping around, stiffening completely as you feel the graze of his fingers across your skin, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" you shove your back against your bedding, your hand swinging and flying across his face. His head snapping to the side as he pauses, freezing up where he kneels, having completely forgotten your request to stay put. "What's the matter with you! Even now? Even now, you can't just listen to this one thing?!"

"I-I'm sorry..." He looks at you, finally seeing your face clearly and up close since it all happened. Finally he can see the bruises along your face, the blood that fills your eye, the dark bruise still around your neck.

Seeing him. He looks rough. Honestly, he looks terrible. His hair shaggy and falling over his eye. Dark circles with bags under them. Pale, and thinner than he should be.

His jaw clenches with guilt and he averts his eyes, you continue. "How could I forgive you for this?" you stare at him, "I could forgive you, if you hadn't let them chain me up like an animal. If you hadn't watched them drown me for hours, beat me black and blue and left me screaming for days. I could forgive you if you had just believed me even for a moment." you feign thoughtfulness. "How about you look at my face. My wrists. My legs! MY FUCKING SPINE, SIMON!"

"Nothing I can say or do, will ever make any of it ok, I know that. And I can't ask for you to ever forgive--"

"What could I possible owe you in this life, that makes you think I'd even think about forgiving any of you for the things you did to me?" you gritted out, angrily.

Simon's head drops, a slow, shuttering sigh leaves him. "I'll never stop trying to make this right. Never."

"...Get out, Simon."

"I'm sorry."

"Simon."

"I'm so sorry..." he reaches out again.

"Ghost."

He's silent this time, fingers tensing, out in mid air.

"I never wanna see you again."

"I love you, (Y/n)," he confessed, eyes feral and wide. Pulling at the ends of your slip.

"I don't want to hear that, Ghost," kicking away from him. "Stop it."

"I couldn't stop even as it happened--"

"Shut up. And get out," shaking as you sneered at his desperate attempts. "It's over, Ghost."

"And I took it on you. It hurt so much, I couldn't think," Simon's face twisted with agony and remorse. "I'm sorry!"

He was making you lose your goddamn mind, you broke. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" screaming at one another as overwhelming tears escaped your eyes.

---

It's quiet in your hospital room, it's empty now, the door closed this time.

The door knob turns and opens again a moment later. "Oh no, Ms. (L/n)!" luckily it was your assigned nurse, who takes your arm and fixes it around her shoulder before helping haul yourself up to your feet. "What're you doing on the floor? There's a call button for a reason," she scolds as you sit on the edge of your bed.

You're quiet.

Alarmingly so for your nurse, who notices the pulled stitching that creates a line of blood down your side. "If this is about what happened to you..." the nurse started, speaking carefully, pulling a lining of gauze from the side to press to your skin. You don't even wince at the pressure, even when she begins to clean and replace the broken stitch. "Don't let it break you. Not even further than this experience already has..." she says, while through the last stitch and prepping a bandage.

"I've been broken long before this," you whispered, looking towards the afternoon sun shining through your window. "This. This didn't break me, no," you admitted, before glancing up with glossy eyes, rage hidden beneath a profound look of sadness. "It destroyed me."

Her hand pauses at your side, your words startling, turning to see the tear that slips down your cheek. Knowing now how deep your scars were from this, before gently sliding the last of the bandage across your skin. "Do not think you are irreparable. That time can't heal your wounds."

"But, there's always reminders," touching the stitches on your cheek, "some things can't be forgiven."

"I never said to forgive..." the nurse interjected. "If you could, after all this, you're stronger than any woman that could be named."

You snicker at that, humming soundly. "That's an interesting thought. I guess I'm one of the weaker ones then."

"And yet, still the strongest I've ever met," she finishes. Pats your cheek, "click the button next time. Save us both the heart attack."

"Noted," you assured.

As she's prepping to leave for her rounds, you open your mouth, once, twice, before clearing it. "Is it possible, someone could help me out--the water..."

"Of course," the nurse says, quickly. "Don't worry, I understand. I'll get everything set for you."

As she walks away, you breathing out your appreciation, you take a long inhale, swallowing down the heaviness in your chest.

part 3 OUT NOW!!

and if you'd like to support a fanfic hoe in need...would you Buy me a Coffee?

Tag List:

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[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[clockwayswrites]

Distracting Birb! Part 28

*throws this and runs* Masterpost

“So what did you find out?” Tim asked as he spun around. He was at the computer, of course, and looked most of the way to villainy backlit by the large screens.

(Dick loved his little brother, but villainy really wouldn’t be the most surprising outcome for Tim.)

“What makes you think we found anything?” Jason answered, just to be impertinent.

Tim rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have called us all down to the Cave if you didn’t have anything.”

Jason scoffed. “You underestimate how willing I am to waste your time.”

“Boys,” Cass said calmly, ending the growing argument with just that word.

“Duke still out on patrol?” Dick asked as a distraction.

Tim glanced over his shoulder and back at the screen. “On his way back. He’ll be here in fifteenish.”

Best not to wait in case Danny woke, Dick decided. They’d be sure to fill him in. “Okay. Well, Danny was not lying, he has a lot of plants.”

“Dick managed to turn on the watering system. We’re all very proud of him,” Jason said flatly.

The siblings all golf clapped, which Dick took a dramatic bow to. “Thank you, thank you. Otherwise a pretty normal apartment. Comfortable, a little nerdy, and not fussy.”

Jason nodded. “There’s a hero—not sure if someone real or fictional—that we saw a few times. Someone called Phantom.”

Obliging, Dick sent the photo of the mug from the bathroom up onto one of the screens. Tim spun back to the computer and started searching.

“There were also a lot of medication in his cabinet; vitamins and several prescriptions also. Some of them had weird labels.”

“Damn, Dick, you couldn’t have gotten a clearer photo?” Tim asked as he squinted at the new set of images.

“As much as I hate to defend Dick,” Jason said as he added photos of his own to the screen, ‘that is a clear photo. Danny was writing in the same language along with English in a bedside notebook of his.”

“Are you in need of glasses, Drake?” Damian asked as he looked from the photos to Tim with a judgmental brow raised.

Tim flicked him off, which Dick considered telling Tim off for (Damian had enough bad habits), but was actually curious about this. “No. The text looks glitched out.’

“No,” Damian said slowly and with a scowl, “it is clear. Odd, but clear.”

“Cass?” Dick asked.

She moved a step closer to the television, head tilted. There was a long, quiet moment before she lifted her hand a gave a so-so motion.

Tim looked from her, to Damian, to the screens. “…Dick?”

“So that’s the thing, it looks wrong to me too. If I look at it too long it’s like it gives me a headache. Jason can read it though.”

Jason snorted. “That’s taking it a bit far. I feel like I should be able to read it. I can get a word here or there maybe.”

“Like it whispers,” Damian said, the quiet words oddly poetic for the youngest of them.

“…yeah, like it whispers,” Jason agreed, just as softly.

“Right, okay. Freaky language that only some of us can even see, much less read, and those who can have spent a lot of time in or around the league,” Tim said. “How concerned do we need to be able this? To we need to be concerned about this? I feel like we need to be concerned about this.”

None of them had an easy answer for Tim.

All of them were grateful for the roar of Duke’s bike interrupting the conversation as he pulled into the cave.

“What are you all looking some grim about?” Duke asked. He yanked his helmet off and took a deep breath, like he hadn’t been able to breath in hours.

It was a feeling they all got. Even a good patrol was draining and Duke had been actively on follow up over what had gone down today with the Mad Hatter. Dick tossed a towel Duke’s way and went to grab a drink for the other from the food safe fridge.

“Stuff from Danny’s place. Take a look at the screen,” Jason said.

“Danny? I thought that we liked the guy,” Duke said, accepting the drink with a grateful thank you. He drained half of it his the way to the screens. “Shit, that’s a lot of meds.”

“Take a closer look,” Jason said, though not unkindly.

Duke stepped closer to the screen.

And went alarmingly still.

Dick resisted the instinctual urge to reach out and grab him. “Duke?”

Duke gave an answering hum and turned his head, just slightly, towards Dick. His eyes never left the screen. Dick wasn’t sure if Duke had really heard him. It was Jason who ended up acting, ended up listening to that instinct. He stepped between Duke and the screen, blocking their newest brother’s view. Duke sucked in a sharp, startled breath.

“What?”

“Hey, come on, have a seat,” Jason said and guided Duke backwards into one of the chairs at the table.

Tim swiftly cleared the photos from the screen.

Duke shook his head. “Sorry, man, I don’t know what… that, huh. What did those look like to you all?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with different levels of medication in them,” Tim replied calmly. “Dick and I can’t read what’s printed on them. Damian, Jason, and maybe Cass can a little which means it might be League writing of some sort.”

Dick leaned against the table. “What did you see, Duke?”

“Magenta tinted pill bottles with something in them. Like whatever it was my powers were weird about it. I’d have to see them in person to know anything about why, I guess, but they were… I don’t know. But whatever that stuff was I don’t think it’s League because I don’t think it’s human. I don’t think it’s earthly.”

“Well, fuck,” Dick said with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #26

Danny didn’t really think it through. In his defense, there weren’t a lot of guidebooks titled “How to Deal with the Psychotic Future Version of Yourself You Accidentally Redeemed But Are Still Terrified Of.” Jazz suggested therapy. Sam suggested containment. Tucker suggested launching him into deep space. Danny, brilliant and seventeen and sleep-deprived after three days of babysitting a now mostly-reformed Dan Phantom, decided, “Screw it,” ripped open a portal to another dimension, and told him to “go make friends.” Dan grinned, sharp-toothed and wicked, and without hesitation dove through the swirling green and blue mass of unstable ectoplasmic energy.

Thus began the Marvel Universe’s greatest headache.

The first incident happened barely four hours after Dan’s arrival. New York woke up to a brand new urban legend: a demon with burning blue eyes and silver-streaked black hair beating the living shit out of Shocker in the middle of Times Square. People recorded it, of course. Viral videos showed Shocker screaming, running, trying desperately to aim his gauntlets while Dan literally phased through every attack like he was swatting a mosquito. Somewhere in the footage, Dan shouted, “C’MON, MAN! HIT HARDER, YOU’RE EMBARRASSING YOURSELF!” before drop-kicking Shocker into a halal cart.

The Avengers noticed. Specifically, Spider-Man noticed, because Peter Parker had never been so personally offended by something in his life.

“He’s stealing my bit,” Peter whined to MJ later, scrolling through TikTok and watching the mysterious “Blue Devil” bodyslam the Rhino into a GAP storefront. “That’s MY thing. Wisecracking and beating up guys in animal costumes.”

MJ, deadpan as ever, didn’t even look up from her book. “Maybe if you hit the gym once in a while, you could still compete.”

Elsewhere, S.H.I.E.L.D. was losing their collective shit.

Nick Fury reviewed the footage with the grim severity of a man preparing for war. “I want every available agent tailing him. Find out what he is, what he wants, and for God’s sake, do not engage.”

Unfortunately, Dan had other plans. He wanted engagement. Constant, chaotic, no-holds-barred engagement.

When the X-Men tried to approach him peacefully—because, to be fair, a floating, smirking, six-foot-seven superpowered anomaly screamed “mutant”—Dan responded by challenging Wolverine to a fistfight in the middle of Central Park.

“You smell angry,” Dan said, cracking his knuckles and grinning wide. “I like that. C’mon, Knives. Show me what those claws can do.”

Wolverine, never one to back down from a challenge, growled and immediately lunged. It took six X-Men to pull them apart. Logan was half in love and half homicidal.

Jean Grey, massaging her temples afterward, sighed, “He’s not a mutant. He’s something else. Something… worse.”

Meanwhile, Dan wasn’t picky about his opponents. Hero? Villain? Civilian? If you looked at him wrong, he was ready to throw hands. He got into a screaming match with Daredevil over a parking spot. He suplexed Deadpool into a dumpster for calling him “Discount Nightcrawler.” He made Venom cry after a fifteen-minute insult match that Eddie Brock would never fully recover from.

The Fantastic Four tried to reason with him.

“We can help you,” Reed Richards said, voice patient like he was talking to a rabid cat. “We have resources—”

Dan blew up the top three floors of the Baxter Building and left a sticky note on the ruins that said, “UR WELCOME - D.”

The thing was, Dan wasn’t evil anymore. Not really. He wasn’t trying to take over the world. He wasn’t murdering anyone. He just had a lifetime’s worth of rage, grief, and unresolved abandonment issues—and no idea what to do with them except get into constant, escalating, deeply unnecessary fights.

It got to a point where the heroes started treating Dan like a natural disaster.

“Code Blue,” a harried S.H.I.E.L.D. agent barked over comms one afternoon. “I repeat, Code Blue! The entity is currently body-slamming Juggernaut through Grand Central!”

Cap sighed, already pulling on his shield. “Alright, team. Let’s move out.”

Black Widow holstered her guns. “At least it’s not another alien invasion.”

Thor, cheerful as ever, grinned. “I relish a good battle!”

Hawkeye muttered, “You relish being concussed.”

Dan, for his part, loved the attention. He loved the chaos. He loved the feeling of letting loose in a world that could actually handle him, where nobody flinched when he punched through a concrete wall or melted a tank with a blast of pure ectoplasmic fire.

He was happy, in his deeply deranged, borderline-psychotic way.

That didn’t mean he was easy to deal with.

After Dan singlehandedly wrecked a Hydra base (“I was bored, okay?” he said when the Avengers confronted him), Tony Stark decided to try a different tactic.

“Look, Big and Blue,” Tony said, lounging on the ruined remains of what was once a cutting-edge jet. “Ever think about channeling that rage into something… productive? Like, say, joining the Avengers?”

Dan blinked, actually considering it for a full five seconds.

Then he laughed so hard he almost dropped a car on Tony’s head.

“Me? Work with you guys? Under orders? Are you high, Tin Man?”

Steve Rogers, exhausted and already developing a migraine, tried. “You could do a lot of good—”

“I am doing good,” Dan said brightly. “I’m keeping you on your toes. No need to thank me.”

“You broke Clint’s arm last week,” Natasha reminded him.

“He’ll live.”

“He was trying to give you a granola bar.”

Dan shrugged, utterly unbothered. “He looked suspicious.”

The closest thing Dan had to a friend was Deadpool. Not because they got along—they didn’t, not even a little—but because Deadpool was the only one insane enough to keep up.

They had a rivalry. A bloody, chaotic, absolutely incomprehensible rivalry that involved prank wars, bar fights, and one extremely regrettable karaoke contest that left three bars in ruins and a citywide ban on musical gatherings involving either party.

“I hate you,” Dan snarled once, pinning Deadpool to a wall after a four-hour chase across Manhattan.

“I hate you more!” Wade screeched back, thrilled beyond belief.

“Great! Friends forever!” Wade cackled.

Dan screamed into the void.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton was back in his own dimension, blissfully unaware, telling Jazz, “See? Everything’s fine.”

Jazz, reading a news article titled “Unknown Supernatural Entity Causes $3 Billion in Property Damage, Punches Doctor Doom in the Face” quietly considered strangling him.

Eventually, the heroes adapted. Dan was like bad weather. You prepared for him. You kept an eye out for ominous blue clouds and spontaneous outbreaks of screaming. Sometimes he helped. Sometimes he made things worse. Mostly, he made things interesting.

There were even betting pools.

“Fifty bucks says he crashes this gala,” Sam Wilson said, tightening his bowtie before a high-profile Avengers event.

“Hundred says he wears a suit to crash it,” Bucky Barnes added, deadpan.

“Two hundred he punches Tony before dessert,” Carol Danvers said, sipping champagne.

Dan did crash the gala. In a tuxedo.

He punched Tony before the entrees even made it out.

By then, nobody was even surprised.

The turning point came when Galactus tried to devour Earth (again). The heroes mobilized. Big stakes. High drama. Apocalyptic dread.

Dan showed up in the middle of the chaos, lazily floating beside Captain Marvel.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head at the giant cosmic entity looming in the sky. “I’m gonna punch that.”

Carol, blinking, said, “You can’t just punch Galactus.”

Dan, already cracking his knuckles, grinned. “Watch me.”

And then he did.

Nobody knew how. It defied physics, logic, and every law of reality. But somehow, Dan punched Galactus so hard the giant stumbled, clutched his jaw, and left.

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Deadpool clapped. “THAT’S MY BEST ENEMY!”

Thor dropped his hammer.

Tony sat down on the ground and decided to reconsider all his life choices.

Steve very seriously said, “We are never letting him leave.”

Thus, against all odds, Dan Phantom—the violent, chaotic, semi-redeemed ghost of a now-erased dystopian future—became an honorary Avenger much to his own dismay.

He didn’t exactly follow rules. He certainly didn’t behave. But when Thanos invaded three months later and Dan showed up by suplexing a Leviathan out of the sky and riding it into battle like a demented cowboy, nobody complained.

Well. Except the Leviathan.

In the end, Danny was right.

Everything was fine.

If your definition of “fine” included a psychotic ghost terrorizing both heroes and villains equally, destabilizing multiple governments, and becoming a beloved menace.

But hey. Could be worse.

At least he wasn’t totally evil anymore.

[thebibliosphere]

So in not great news, I’ve developed a trauma response to my migraines.

I just had a faint niggle of pain on the right side of my head—likely caused by my neck muscles being jacked up from yesterday’s migraine and the hours upon hours of throwing up—and while my original response to potentially getting a migraine was weary resignation, I just had what can only be accurately described as a panic attack.

Like full on, couldn’t breathe past my terror, vision tunneling in a way I haven’t experienced since [redacted trauma], ‘it feels like I’m having a heart attack’ panic.

Which is not… not great to begin with but it’s really not good when you have a mast cell disorder where stress can be an anaphylactic trigger, which it is for me, which is why I’ve spent the last for years trying to regulate my nervous system and get a handle on my complex trauma.

Only now, due to the severe amounts of pain I’m in every ten days or fewer, I’m experiencing total emotional dysregulation from the mere thought of having another migraine.

And now I have a headache from the panic attack because it triggered my POTS and now my blood pressure is fucked 🫠

I legitimately cannot do this anymore. This is going to kill me.

[katelynnwrites]

Here’s To Hoping You’re Worth All My Time (I Hope You’re Worth My Time) | Lea Schüller

warnings: some swear words, description of migraines in detail

word count: 4451

summary: five months after you and lea break up, you’re convinced you’ll never cross paths with her again. life has a funny way of bringing people back together though.

a/n: realised that if i want to read schülli fics, i have to write them so here we are 😊

The headache started somewhere in the middle of your third class.

Rather gingerly, you rub your temples and try to ignore the pulsing pain. Despite your best efforts, the pain continues to grow till it’s clear that you are going to have one of your full blown migraines.

You get migraines every so often but with have gotten better at managing them over the years. The combination of cutting out caffeine, medication and getting enough sleep have worked so that the truly bad ones, the kind that keeps you incapacitated for hours have become few and far between.

One hasn’t happened for a while and you suppose, with a wince that you were inevitably due for one.

Now that it’s happening though, it is all you can do to text your classmate and tell her you won’t be able to make the rest of your classes.

The bright glare of your phone screen makes your head ache more fiercely. With squinted eyes and more than some difficulty that you read her reply in which she hopes you feel better soon and that she will convey your apologies to the professors.

That being done, you try and fail to focus back on your current class. By the end of it, you are desperate to go home and just lie down with all the lights off.

Normally you would take the bus but today even the thought of it is too much. A ride sharing service would be the quickest way back to your apartment.

The ride itself passes in a blur, nausea has begun to affect you and you spend the twenty minutes back to your apartment concentrating on trying not to throw up.

When the driver drops you off at your apartment, you stutter out a quick thank you before you run up the stairs, taking it two at a time to get to your bathroom.

Just in time too because you gag uncontrollably, whatever is left of your breakfast coming up unpleasantly.

You stay beside the toilet, coughing until your stomach somewhat uneasily settles.

With watering eyes, you stand up shakily to rinse your mouth and then reach for the bottle of Eletriptan that usually sits on the shelf above your sink.

Except that your hand closes around nothing. Your migraine medication isn’t there.

You stare at the empty space uncomprehendingly until it hits you.

It’s at the place where you babysit. Sometimes the parents would pay you extra to stay overnight with their kids when they had late night work functions. Last week you’d stayed over and brought your medication over as a precaution.

The family is nice and you know they would have no problem bringing over your Eletriptan if you asked. The problem is that they are currently on vacation in France.

You can actually picture where you left your bottle of medication. On the counter of their guest bedroom.

Blinking back tears of frustration and pain, you bite your lip. You hadn’t gone through a migraine without medication in years. Especially not one as severe as this.

‘Fuck.’ You say out loud.

‘Fuck.’ You repeat and then do the only thing you can do.

Going into the kitchen, you get a glass of water and take it into your bedroom.

Thankfully, the blinds are already closed so you don’t have to deal with the bright sunlight making your head hurt more than it currently is.

You manage two sips of water and then toe off your shoes, collapsing into bed.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhale and inhale, slowly counting to a hundred and then eventually to five hundred.

Everything is okay, you attempt to convince yourself as you start counting from one again.

You ignore the fact that even with your pills, your migraine usually takes an hour to subside. There’s no telling how long it will go on without the medicine.

Another deep breath in and out. Over and over again.

Somewhere in between, you briefly entertain the notion of going to a pharmacy and getting some over the counter migraine medicine instead. But none of that stuff has ever worked for you and even if you are distressed enough to try, you know you are in no condition to leave the house.

At the very least, the fierce ache in your head has not gotten worse. It isn’t better either though. It still feels like someone is stabbing you right between your eyes and god it hurts.

It’s nothing short of excruciating but there is nothing you can do except to keep your eyes closed, remind yourself to keep breathing through the pain and hope for the best.

Then you remember.

You have another bottle of Eletriptan. The one you left at Lea’s place.

Against your will, salty tears slip down your cheeks. Fucking hell.

It’s not as if you can get to it. You’re not able to go over and beg. Even if you are willing to go to that length, your pride would never allow it.

Lea had told you to get out. So you did. The end.

Besides, your ex is probably away for international break or an away game of sorts. The chances are high that she isn’t even in Munich right now.

That’s what you tell yourself as another agonising hour crawls by.

It’s been three hours since you first got back and you don’t know if you can take much more. A particularly harsh throb hits and that makes your decision for you.

With a weak sob, you cave and reach for your phone.

The brightness level is on the lowest setting but the sudden glare still has you scrunching your face in discomfort.

Finding Lea’s contact is as much as you hate it, easy. For some unknown reason, you hadn’t yet been able to bring yourself to delete it.

Tapping on it before you can second guess yourself, you put the call on speaker.

It rings and rings. To the point where you think she won’t answer.

Right when you are ready to admit defeat, a voice comes through, ‘Hello?’

‘Lea?’ You whisper.

‘No sorry, this is Obi. Lea’s not here right now. Can I take a message?’

You hesitate. You remember Obi, Lea’s brunette best friend. She’d been nice to you back when you were dating but telling her that you are practically pleading with Lea for your much needed medicine seems far too personal.

A few seconds of awkward silence pass and then there’s some muffled noise on the other end.

‘Hi it’s Lea. Sorry I took a bit.’

You don’t actually need her to introduce herself. The sound of her voice is etched in your memory, as clear as day.

Pausing again, you wonder if you should really do this. Lea could be stubborn and closed off sometimes but she had never been mean. As bad as things had ended between you both, there is surely no way that the striker’s changed so much that she would be cruel enough to withhold your medication.

That is, if she hadn’t simply thrown it away.

You’re taking too long to decide because the blonde tries again, ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

‘It’s me.’ You softly answer.

‘Oh.’

She didn’t sound angry. Or annoyed. You’d take that.

‘I-I’m not interrupting anything am I?’

Your ex exhales quietly, ‘We’re kinda in the middle of a gym session.’

‘Sorry I wouldn’t be calling but I-I really need your help. It’s sort of an emergency.’

You wait for her to reply but nothing comes through.

Then rather steadily she asks, ‘What’s the emergency?’

Swallowing the last of your pride you say, ‘Um…Could you please run back to your place and get something for me?’

‘You want me to leave training the day before a big game to go back to my apartment and get something for you?’ Lea slowly states.

Wincing, you forget she can’t see you and nod. It sounds far worse when she puts it like that. Resignedly, you accept your fate of burying yourself back under your blankets and trying your hardest to sleep this migraine off.

‘You’re right. It’s stupid. I’m sorry for calling, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just-’

Lea cuts you off, ‘What is it?’

‘What?’

‘What do you need me to get?

You blink in surprise, ‘My Eletriptan. The migraine medication I take. I left a bottle of it at yours and um, never got it back. I don’t have another one presently and I need it.’

The forward lets out a breath and it is enough to have you wondering what the hell you are doing. Asking your ex that you had a far from amicable break up with, for a favour?

Quickly backtracking once more, you rush out, ‘It’s alright. You don’t have to. I’ll figure something out.’

‘No. It’s okay. You need it. I’m assuming you’re at home?’

‘Yeah.’ You breathe, hardly daring to believe your ears.

‘I’ll be there in half an hour. Lie down and close your eyes in the meantime.’

‘Okay.’ You manage.

It’s all you can get out.

Like Lea had requested, you stay laying down and let your eyes slip close.

They fly open again at the realisation that the blue eyed woman is actually coming over. Your apartment is in dire need of a good tidy up, the stress of the past few weeks, no doubt a factor into today’s pounding headache have left you behind in your cleaning.

Lea will definitely see the state of your place, a sharp contrast to her own which had always been neatly organised in the past. You think about getting up and trying to get rid of some of the mess but even the mere act of sitting up makes your head spin.

So you lie back down and keep your attention on breathing through the pain. The Bayern Munich player is just dropping off your bottle of pills. It’s not like she is going to stick around so why should you care?

Except that you do. You have always cared when it comes to Lea Schüller. Such is your weakness for her.

But any sort of movement has your body protesting so you have no choice but to stay very still, not moving from your spot as you drift in your own head. One deep breath in…and one deep breath out.

Till a soft, ‘Hey.’

You automatically try to sit up, a sharp whimper tumbling from your lips as the resulting pain shoots through your head.

Lea’s hand grabs onto your elbow, steadying you and she murmurs, ‘Take it easy. Just stay where you are alright?’

Forcing your eyes open, you take her in as best you can.

The same brilliant blue eyes, lean athlete’s build and shoulder length blonde hair. Still absolutely gorgeous.

You blink up at her and she asks, ‘How long have you been like this?’

It’s hard to think but you make an effort to do so.

‘Since two this afternoon?’

Lea’s eyes widen and she curses under her breath in her native language.

‘You’ve been like this for practically four hours?’

You make a poor attempt at shrugging, ‘Did you...?’

The striker snaps back into focus, ‘Course.’

She reaches into her jacket pocket and there in her hand, is a very precious bottle of prescription medication.

‘Two right?’ She asks even though she is already shaking the correct dosage out onto her palm.

You simply nod, struck speechless by the fact that she remembers.

The blonde makes sure you are sitting up and then carefully holds out your pills, along with the half drunk glass of water from your nightstand.

Staying upright just long enough to accept the medicine and swallow it with a mouthful of water, you soon lay back down amongst your pillows.

‘Thank you Lea.’ You hoarsely whisper.

‘You’re welcome.’ She says, with an expression you can’t quite place.

The pain in your head pulses but you know that is not the reason why you can’t read her because if you are being honest, she’s always been somewhat of a mystery to you.

Breathing in once, twice and then thrice, you realise that contrary to your earlier expectations, the German woman is not turning to leave right away.

‘I’m really sorry to have bothered you. I hope your game goes well tomorrow.’ You offer eventually.

Lea just keeps looking at you with that same indiscernible gaze.

After a long minute, she replies, ‘Thanks and it’s fine. We were doing my least favourite core workouts anyway.’

The striker glances down at her phone, obviously taking note of the time before she adds, ‘I should be getting back though. Obi can only cover for me for so long.’

‘Right. Sorry again to have pulled you away.’

Still, your ex doesn’t make any move to leave.

Instead, she twists the ring on her index finger around a few times and then says, ‘I’ll come back after the session to check on you. It shouldn’t take more than two hours.’

Your mouth drops open in shock.

‘You don’t need…It’s okay. Once the meds kick in, I’ll be alright. You know that.’

After all, this is not your first migraine that Lea’s experienced. When you were still together, she would put your head in her lap and run her fingers through your hair. It was soothing and calming and the tiny featherlight kisses she used to press to your forehead never failed to make you feel better.

But that was the past and well…you can hardly ask her to do that now.

‘No I do know. It’s just that…you look like shit.’

Lea’s words are blunt and she folds her arms across her chest, blue eyes seeming rather challenging as she continues, ‘You’re going to need actual food coming off this migraine and I’d bet you don’t have anything of the sort lying around here.’

You frown, thinking of the instant noodles that make up your pantry.

It’s the only answer your former girlfriend needs because she repeats more or less of what she’d verbalised earlier, in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

‘I’ll be back in less than two hours. In the meantime, try to sleep.’

Then she’s gone. Disappearing just as suddenly as she’d appeared.

Too exhausted to try and figure her and what the fuck has just happened out, you bury your head under a pillow to block it all out.

You know the drill now. To get through a bad migraine, you need to stay very very still. Any movement would do you no good.

Count to a hundred, breathing in and out all the while. Reach five hundred, reset your counting and keep taking in deep breaths.

It takes another hour but slowly, the Eletriptan begins to work. Little by little, the headache recedes till you’re able to slip into a fitful sleep at last.

******

When you wake, your room is much darker than it was earlier. Not even the tiniest hint of sunlight peeks through your blinds.

After a few minutes, you decide that the pounding in your head has subsided enough movement to become feasible once more.

Sitting up warily, you catch sight of the time displayed on your alarm clock.

Abruptly, you remember that Lea has said she was coming back.

Wide awake now, you stop only to throw on a hoodie before opening your bedroom door. Someone is definitely here, you can see that your kitchen light is on.

Before you even get halfway down the hall, you smell something amazing…and familiar.

At the doorway to your kitchen, you pause just to look at Lea for a long moment.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if your migraine had been so bad that you are coming up with new symptoms like hallucinations.

Then you dismiss the thought because food has never smelt so good. Not even in your wildest dreams.

She’s standing with her back to you, stirring a pot of what must be stew, made from her mother’s recipe.

She used to make that for you when you’d had a long day. The ensuing rush of nostalgia has you bracing a hand against the wooden frame of the door.

Your former girlfriend hasn’t physically changed much in the five months you have been apart, bar the new tattoo on her arm. Dressed in Bayern’s signature red training outfit and with her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, she’s still all lean muscle, as tall and terribly attractive as she’s always been.

Now that your migraine has dulled, you are better able to appreciate exactly how stunning she is.

You watch her biceps flex as she begins to cut up some greens.

It was those well built arms that you had first fallen in love with. Not because of how fine a figure it gave her but because of how safe you had felt when she’d held you in them.

That’s all irrelevant now, swept to the side due to a more pressing issue. The one that is Lea Schüller standing in your kitchen.

Opening and closing your mouth, you manage to stutter out, ‘W-What are you doing?’

To her credit, the blonde doesn’t flinch.

Her voice is soft but sure when she answers without turning around, ‘Making dinner.’

‘I can see that…but why?’

‘Because you always feel like crap when you don’t have proper food coming off one of your migraines. The one you were having looked especially bad too.’

Two thoughts occur simultaneously. One, is Lea taking care of you? Two, what does this mean?

Detaching yourself from the kitchen doorway, you try to play off the way your heart rate is speeding up. Your head is spinning again, this time because of confusion instead of the headache.

‘You could have just dropped off takeout.’

Now, Lea deigns to look at you, stopping her cooking. Her eyes stay on you as she searches for something you don’t know.

She’s seemingly satisfied after a moment.

‘But I didn't, so here I am.’ She says evenly.

You don’t know how to answer that so you close the remaining distance to your little breakfast counter and take a seat there.

The German woman resumes her cooking and you find yourself questioning her ability to look so composed. How is she looking so at ease here, cooking stew in your kitchen, looking for all the world like the past five months hadn’t happened? Like you two had never broken up?

Neither of you speak again till dinner is ready.

You fetch bowls and spoons from your cupboard, Lea serves both portions.

Setting your bowl in front of you, the Bayern player sits down across from you for the first time in- well, five months.

Then she looks up, blue eyes that are as clear as crystals, meeting yours.

‘Lea…what are you really doing here?’ You barely audibly murmur.

The striker sighs, pushing her bowl away from her and leaning back into her seat.

‘The truth?’

After a long drawn out silence in which she runs her thumb along the handle of her spoon, a restless gesture of hers and you resist the urge to reach across the tabletop to soothe it, Lea admits, ‘I missed you.’

You let her words sink in, trying to work out how you feel about them. Lea had missed you. That means something doesn’t it? Do you want that to mean something?

The answer to that, is so obvious that you can’t lie to yourself. Of course you want it to mean something. You’ve missed Lea like crazy. Every single day since the split.

Your former girlfriend sets her spoon down, gaze downcast as she mumbles, ‘I should leave.’

‘No!’ You start to shake your head, then gasp at the pain that flares up when you do.

Massaging the sides of your temple, you say, ‘Please don’t go. Lea, I-I missed you too.’

A quiet puff of air leaves the blonde, ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d…moved on.’

‘From you?’ Your laugh comes out a touch bitter.

‘I didn’t. I couldn’t.’

Then a thought strikes you and you glance at the German woman furtively, ‘Did you move on?’

Lea blinks as if she had not expected you to ask.

‘I’m here aren’t I?’

Part of you wants to say, ‘Well…for five, nearly six months, you weren’t.’

The Bayern Munich player must sense it because she softens, ‘No. There hasn’t been anyone since. You’re…you. I don’t think there is any getting over you.’

You didn’t know how much you’d been afraid of a different answer till Lea said that. Actually, afraid doesn’t quite cover it, terrified would be a better description.

Relief courses through you so powerfully that you feel lightheaded with the intensity of it.

With how heavy the air is now, you force yourself to pick up your spoon and start on the stew. The last thing you need is to do something stupid like tell Lea you’re still head over heels in love with her.

The blonde takes the cue that you’re done talking for now and the only sound in the room is the clinking of spoons against the bowls.

As expected, the stew is delicious. It had always been your favourite even though Lea never made a meal that you didn’t like.

Like she knows you are thinking about her, the German woman glances up from her bowl, catching your eye and then smiling.

It’s a soft, gentle smile. Reminiscent of old times. Lea making you both dinner, Lea taking care of you after one of your migraines, Lea just being…there. Just constantly there, by your side and looking at you like she never wants to be anywhere else.

You wonder if this is going somewhere. Is this an olive branch or just closure?

Before you know it, your spoon is scraping the bottom of your bowl. The warmth and saltiness of the stew have done wonders and you feel much better.

Lea can see it too because she says, ‘There’s more in the pot if you’d like.’

With a small noise of thanks, you fill up your bowl with a second helping.

Sitting back down, you stir the stew around for a moment and watch the steam rise.

Tentatively, you ask, ‘How’s the football going?’

‘It’s good. The team is doing good. How’s university?’

‘Same. I’m just starting to look for job openings for after my graduation.’

Lea fiddles with her ring, ‘Are you still thinking about teaching?’

‘That’s lovely. It’ll suit you.’

‘I’m pretty sure I want to teach kindergarten.’ You elaborate.

The blonde nods, ‘That suits you too.’

You two fall silent again.

Biting your lip, you try to come up with something to say. It’s strange, almost sad how awkward things feel now. Once upon a time, you had been so comfortable with each other. You’d been open with Lea in ways you never had been with anyone else. It was mutual.

Have things changed so much? Is it possible for a way back?

‘Lea?’

‘Yes?’

‘I just…’ You stop messing around with your food, forcing yourself to look at her properly.

‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the things I said. The last time we saw each other, I said a lot of cruel and awful things that I shouldn’t have. I did not mean them and I’m really sorry.’

Lea puts her spoon down, ‘I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one who said things she didn’t mean.’

Her words are genuine, you can see it in the bright blue of her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you blurt out, ‘I still love you Lea. I wish we’d never broken up.’

Surprise colours Lea’s pretty features.

‘I wish we’d never broken up either. There’s not been a day where I stopped loving you.’

‘Oh.’ You breathe.

The forward goes on, ‘Letting things end after our argument was a mistake. A huge mistake, mostly on my part. I wanted to call. I should have called.’

‘I’m not blameless…I wanted to call too but you were so angry. I-I thought you didn’t want me to call. I thought that you’d never want to hear from me again.’

Lea rests her elbows on the table, leaning closer to you. Your heart begins to beat more quickly, you’re certain you aren’t misreading the flicker of hope in her expression.

Swallowing hard, the German woman murmurs, ‘You called today.’

‘I did. You dropped everything to come over. Made me dinner too.’

Blushing lightly, Lea murmurs, ‘I was sort of trying to make a grand gesture.’

You smile, ‘It worked.’

Lea begins to grin, ‘It did?’

Almost like she can’t help herself she asks, ‘Do you think…Can we give us another try?’

A hundred things rush through your mind. Happiness and relief blooms in your chest.

Eagerly, you say, ‘I’d like that.’

Lea’s smile begins to take on a giddy edge and she reaches an open hand out across the table.

You take it without a split second’s hesitation.

Lea closes her fingers around yours, gaze alight with affection and pure contentment. It is a look you’d never thought you’d see again and it fills you with a sunshine like warmth.

‘Finish eating my love.’ She finally says, gently letting go of your hand.

The term of endearment causes a tingle of joy to spread through you. Enough so that you don’t stop smiling for the rest of the meal.

When you’re both done, Lea washes and you dry. She flicks some soapy water at you, her giggles filling the space.

You’d missed it. You’d missed her. You tell her so and she pulls you into her arms.

Her chin rests on your shoulder and she whispers, ‘I missed you every single second of every fucking day.’

You breathe in her smell, taking comfort in it and the safety of her arms once again.

‘Let’s never do that again.’

‘Deal.’ Lea promises.

Then she seals it with a kiss and oh my…you’d forgotten what it was like to be in heaven.

Lea’s lips are incredibly soft, the kiss slow and sweet. It’s everything and more, better than you’d remembered.

When you both part, there’s a single tear making its way down your cheek.

In a tender gesture, Lea wipes it off with the pad of her thumb.

A small relieved laugh escapes her, ‘I think we’re going to be okay.’

You pull her even closer, mouth quirking upwards against your lover’s lips because you know now that you’re never going to let her go again. This is going to work, you’d do your damndest to make sure of it.

‘I think we’re going to be more than okay.’

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Now that you are gone

please note that once again this is a very important topic this is the last part of this series. if you are not familiar with this series please check the warnings.

Dearest husband or should I say ex husband now that I am gone or will be gone by the time that you would have found this letter. I couldn’t do it anymore lando I saw the way you and charlotte were being burdened by my presence and just knew I had to leave.

You were never a bad husband just simply disappeared from our marriage.

Each day I crumbled infront of you and yet you stayed oblivious, it’s been over 3 months since we last shared a bed and I know you are disgusted by the thought of being with me now that I’ve let myself go, all I wanted was love but I guess it was too much to ask for.

Please don’t try and save me now that you’ve read this, I’ve been gone for far too long for you to simply try now. I know we promised forever to each-other but sometimes maybe it’s for the best that it ends early. Be there for charlotte don’t leave her alone you are the only thing she has left I doubt that she would even notice I’m gone.

I know you hated being told what to do but please make sure charlotte never finds out how I left it’s the only thing I will ask from you. I still love you I promise I just don’t love myself enough to say. The voices are getting too hard to block out.

Goodbye Lando Norris

When lando came home from the club he didn’t expect to be treated to the shrill cries of his daughter, he knew you’d be there to take care of her and had called out your name to make sure you were with her so that he could go lay down the amount of drinks he had plus the cries of his daughter made him want to throw up due to the intense headache.

little did he know everything was simply going to get worse for him.

After yelling your name for several minutes with no response he knew he had to deal with charlotte, muttering under his breath about how deaf you were being. He stomped up the hallway into little charlottes room and based of the little girls cries it seemed like she knew that she had just lost her mother. Nothing lando could do was able to console the destraught little girl. It took him an hour to get her down.

An hour which could have been used to save you.

Lando was blissfully unaware of the heartache that was going to be unleashed into his heart. He searched the house trying to find you and give you a piece of his mind.

When you were nowhere to be found he had the bright idea to check the cameras, and that lead him to his discovery. A rather shocking one that he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemy.

In the middle of the bathroom deep within the bathtub laid his wife, his one anchor in life through everything the women he called everything laid there in tranquility. The water still and unmoving your body laid there lips blue and cold to the touch yet to lando you still looked like the prettiest women in the world. His mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening it wasn’t until it finally hit that you were not moving, this wasn’t some sick prank or a nightmare that he could wake up from this was his reality his wife was dead lying there cold and dead. The women he called his angel now was an actual angel. He had lost her he lost his love and he knew it was all his fault. He felt shame creeping up his neck knowing he was trying to find you to yell at you. His head shaked with the intensity of the situation.

It was the day after your funeral when lando had found the letter you had left for him and charlotte.

It broke lando to a different level, in his wife’s handwriting his sins were written, he and killed her he had killed you and each day he would pay for his sins.

You were always there, no matter where lando went there was a bit of you everywhere.

He couldn’t get rid of you, not that he wanted to either

The only words he could have muttered at your funeral were “it should have been me, I did it it shoukd have been me she wasn’t supposed to go so soon”.

16 years later

Little Charlotte Norris was not so little anymore, she was now a grown 17 year old girl with questions about her mothers sudden death.

Her entire life she had been shielded from the gruesome reality of how her mother died.

Her father whom she adored more than anything in the world hid the truth from her. Her mother didn’t simply die of a heart attack at 24 she died due to depression, and when Charlotte Norris unfortunately found out the bitter truth due to Lando’s negligence her world shattered.

Her father’s irresponsible behaviour killed her mother.

Landos midnight saddens had resulted in him forgetting to hide away the letters you had left for him and charlotte another careless mistake on his part which would result in him losing his daughter as well.

Charlotte was in tears when Lando returned and he just knew she had found out about everything he could simply feel it.

He tried to justify his actions and decisions blaming it on him being too young and not knowing what PPD was, unfortunately for him his little angel would hear none of it.

She had left lando just like you had.

Charlotte now went by your last name still blaming her father for the years of hurt you went through and how she had to grow up without a maternal figure, she didn’t know why but she always missed you and your soft face.

Your daughter had started up a foundation to help new mothers and fathers with postpartum depression and the anxiety new mothers face. This was the best tribute she would have ever come up with.

tagged -:

@yunnifer

[strawbeerossi]

Silencing Spencer Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer likes how you listen to him ramble about things that interest him. He also likes your method of telling him to shut up.

Content/Warnings: Reader is a little mean because she has a headache, Spencer ramblings, oral (f receiving), face sitting (duh), degradation, pet names (pretty boy)

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Eleven: Facesitting

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You liked listening to Spencer talk, something about his voice being calming to listen to. Listening to him ramble was like heaven, watching him get excited to tell you every bit of information that plagued his brain on one specific subject. Spencer was honestly grateful, liking the way you actually showed care to what he had to say and telling him your own thoughts. However there was another side of you that he liked.

“Spencer, honey, can you please just give me five minutes? I have a really bad headache.” you spoke as you were walking through your shared apartment, your boyfriend following behind you like a little puppy. “But you haven’t even heard the best part about this episode! I mean, you have no idea how crazy it is when he-” Spencer was cut off by the palm of your hand pressed against his mouth.  “I love you so much but you need to just.. Fuck, go sit on the couch for a minute.” You snapped. You knew you’d feel awful about it later but right now you were just frustrated. 

Spencer wasn’t negatively affected, instead a rush of blood rushing down to his cock. He was getting under your skin, just what he was intending on doing. All he needed now though was you to shut him up, to put him in his place. He’d been sexually frustrated all day and he wanted nothing more than to have your soaked cunt on his face, making a mess of his jaw while you used his tongue to get yourself off. The thought of your slick arousal on his tongue was enough to make him drool.

“But baby, don’t you wanna hear about my theories? I mean the show is so interesting and you know I’m passionate about this character.” He was rambling now, only blushing as you shot him a warning look, one that he was used to from the amount of times he attempted to test you. He knew the punishment would be severe but he didn’t care, he needed to taste your essence sooner rather than later. “Come on..” 

Whenever Spencer wasn’t getting the hint though, you were frowning. Now if your head wasn’t pounding, you would’ve realized what he was doing. Right now though, he looked like a brat who couldn’t seem to follow your damn directions. “Go lay down. Now.” You murmured, the male perking up at getting just what he wanted before scrambling off to the bedroom. You were joining him a few minutes later, already pulling your pants down your legs along with your panties. “Don’t get any ideas, brats don’t deserve to be touched or cum. You are servicing me tonight. That’s it.” The harshness of your voice had a whimper rip from his throat, his head nodding slowly. 

Contrary to most men, Spencer could spend hours lapping at your cunt. He enjoyed making you feel good, your fingers tangling in his hair while shoving his face deeper into your warmth. He could cum just from that alone. “I’m gonna sit on your face tonight. Got it, pretty boy?” Just from the look on his face, you could tell that he was eager to flick his tongue into your sweetness, having you rock your hips against his face solely to pleasure yourself. “Yes!” He was desperate, head lifting as his eyes were fixated on your bare lower half.

After getting your shirt off and throwing it on the ground along with the small pile of your other clothes. “You know, Spencer.. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted this.” You spoke in a low tone while facing him with a frown, body climbing onto the bed as you were crawling to get situated. With your knees on either side of Spencer’s face, you were glancing down at your boyfriend who had his usual doe eyes that were clouded over with arousal. “You need to listen better, you know. You shouldn’t upset me on purpose.”

Spencer didn’t have time to respond whenever he was face to face with your wet pussy, his hands coming up to hold your hips before gently tugging your lower half onto his mouth. 

His tongue was darting out to flick over your throbbing clit, your fingers tangling into his messy curls while you let your head fall forward with a soft breath. “Fuck, put that mouth to good use.” You spoke, the sinful sounds of suckling filling the room whenever he got the chance to take your bud into his mouth. When he’d pulled off with a pop sound filling the room, he didn't waste time to drag his tongue through your slit, giving himself a taste of what he was so desperate for. “Pretty boy, don’t keep me waiting.” You spoke, which he didn’t need a warning before his tongue was breaching your leaking sex. 

Pistoning his tongue into your sweet cunt, he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls constricting his tongue from the surprise of him getting right to work. He drank every ounce of arousal you gave him, eyes fluttering shut as his moans were muffling against your pussy. His hands were assisting you as you were rocking against the warm muscle working its magic, leaving you desperate for so much more. “Mmm, is this what you wanted? Me to ride that pretty face of yours? You could’ve asked, baby. You didn’t have to get under my skin and get yourself in trouble.” You tsked while glancing down at the fucked out face of your boyfriend underneath you. 

His vigor was making that familiar warmth in your stomach grow, knowing that you were close. Spencer had known your body by now, so as he knew you were close, he was focusing on your clit once more, sucking harshly as he had you letting out curses and sharp gasps as you were desperately rocking your hips against your partner’s face. “I’m gonna cum.” You whispered while both hands were roughly gripping his messy hair.

With a soft cry, it wasn’t long until your creamy arousal was flowing into his mouth, Spencer was eagerly licking up the sweetness as he was letting his head tilt back against the pillow with a deep groan. “Good job, pretty boy.” Your cooing caused a sheepish smile to spread across his face as he blushed.

“Go take a shower.” You hum, crawling off of his face while Spencer was pushing himself to sit up. His eyes were glossed over, his mouth and chin soaked, and his hair was all over the place from her fingers gripping and pulling it. “You look so pretty.” You cooed while making his blush deepen, drunk off of your pussy as he was slowly pushing himself to stand. “Can I please touch myself?” His voice was whiny, filled with need as he stared at you. 

“Nope. I told you, pretty boy, this is a punishment.”

[lbxbx]

Blackmail | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.

next

“He’s probably late over something stupid.” One of the hairstylists huffs blowing her fringe off of her face.

Nothing new really, you’re so sick of hearing her whine all the time, as if she’s not aware of how hectic the schedule is especially during their tour, not only the schedule is all over the place, they usually get sick and exhausted during this time so they do deserve to rest for an hour longer at least.

Of course you rolled your eyes and sometimes you would actually leave the entire room the second she starts whining and radiating negative energy to the entire staff, once she starts nagging, the energy shifts right away since over half of the staff don’t like her.

You were able to manage though and got used to it since you’ve been working with her for a couple years now, you figured out a way to reduce your chances of a headache. The moment she starts whining you take your airpods out of your pocket and put them on, blasting the music really high up and totally caring less if you couldn’t hear people around you.

Your job was quite sensitive, it took you years to get to where you are right now, you had to be there all the time whether it was broadcasts, practice or even listening parties or stupid birthday parties, you were always there with them.

And being with them for a few years now made you all really close, you understand their characters very well and it’s nothing like what people see on TV or their phone screens, they’re still human after all, and most importantly, they’re still men.

It’s four in the afternoon and time is ticking, the concert is supposed to be started by 9 in the evening and they’re still not here, and there was still a sound check and practice that had to be done first, you were really behind on schedule. You see the girls standing up at the same time which makes you lower down the music.

You hear footsteps coming from the end of the aisle and the staff are all on standby which means that they’re finally here, you take your spot near your station and put your airpods back in their case ready to start on Taehyung’s face.

Your work suited his face the best, of course you’d work on everyone’s face if they needed you to cover for someone, but you were really skilled and your talent suited his features the most. You’ve been working on Taehyung for a couple months now.

 He gets into the room and yanks his top off, a view you’re used to the entire time whether it was him or any of them, he throws himself onto the chair and looks at you once before looking at his reflection in the mirror. “How are you?” A forced smile lingers on his face.

“Good, how are you?” You smile under your face mask, he nods his head. “Sleep deprived, but I should make it.”

“Fingers crossed.” You cross your own fingers and put a headband around his head to get his hair off of his face, he’s growing his hair really tall that he’s tying it in a man bun most of the time. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not planning to cut it off.”

He’s smarter than what people think, you giggle and nod. “I think it looks good on you.” You finally pump some primer onto your hand and start dabbing it onto the skin of his face.

You know people envy you for your job, and in fact you’re really happy with it because it pays really well along with other privileges. Their fans probably envy you the most and you know they look really good but you’re not attracted to any of them in any possible way. You spent so much time with them that they feel like colleagues.

After all, you and them work for the same company.

He takes his phone out and dims the brightness as he starts rapidly texting someone, his leg anxiously moving up and down, you’re used to that too, he must be nervous or tired.

It was peak summer and the weather was suffocating, the humidity and the heat together forced everyone to either wear less clothes or constantly keep the air conditioners turned on, but in your case you had to chose both because you cannot stand the heat, and you get really embarrassed if you got sweaty.

And honestly your top was driving you insane, it was really lose that it kept going down your shoulder, and whenever you would move to grab a brush or anything, it would slip down your shoulder and reveal your bra straps, you can’t keep holding onto it the entire time because you needed both your hands while you’re working, so once you adjust your top it would slip back down your shoulders in seconds.

It kept happening over and over before Taehyung notices, a smug smirk sits on his face before he runs his index finger over the collar of your shirt. “I love your shirt.” And you playfully slap his hand off and grab him by his chin to throw his head back, dabbing contour onto his jaw line. “Thank you, I got it when we were in Vegas last year.”

He moves his head down again to look at your plain white top as if it was his first time seeing this excessive amount of skin, he’s totally checking out your tits and cleavage that appeared whenever your shirt fell down your shoulder. “Oh I miss Vegas.”

“You do?” You push his head back again and he finally gives in. “I enjoyed shopping there.”

“Other magical stuff can happen in Vegas if you know what I mean.” He winks at you which makes you force a laugh. “Says the one who spent his entire time at the hotel.”

“Exactly.” He simply agrees before looking around making sure no one is listening before signaling you to come closer and you do, and he whispers. “I spent two nights with four different women.”

You’re used to so many weird things from the seven boys, but this is a first for you. You look around worriedly hoping that no one over heard him, your body tenses and you feel the need to escape this weird topic. “It was an iconic concert though.”

He scoffs before whispering again. “Girl fuck the concert, four different whores in two nights, it was an experience out of this world.”

“Taehyung.” Your voice stern and serious when you stop him. “You know this isn’t allowed, and you’re being a little loud right now.”

He waves his hand before he looks you dead in the eye. “We do this all the time, nothing is not allowed.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s always you men bragging about stuff like that.”

And he even dares to look around the room again. “There are 13 different women in this room right now, I slept with like.. 9 of them.”

Your shirt drops down your shoulder again but you’re too occupied working on the face in front of you that’s been blabbering nonstop about things that are making you severely uncomfortable. “This is totally not okay.”

“Says who.” His eyes pierce through your cleavage. “Sometimes girls beg me to sleep with them, and I can’t let them down can I?”

“You’re lying.” Your fingers start working faster still making sure the makeup that sits on his face is flawless, you’re wishing this conversation would end fast.

“I can show you if you want to.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge and you giggle thinking in your head that he’s totally joking, but he probably isn’t.

“No thanks I’m good.” You finally put on some lip tint and spray his face with a setting spray. “You’re good to go.”

He gets up but his eyes are still focused onto your chest, a little uncomfortable space between you two as he puts his hands in his pockets. “If you still don’t believe me go ask Namjoon or Jungkook, they spent the night with someone and they could probably tell you about it.”

“Why are you insisting on proving it to me?” You frown and walk a step back, “I’m not interested in finding out more.”

He shrugs carelessly. “I wanted to do you a favor, maybe the nine I fucked in this room can finally be ten, by then I’ll have only three left.” He laughs, totally proud of the joke he said, if that’s even considered a joke.

You scrunch your nose and hit his chest playfully, you kind of wished you did it harder though before you tell him. “Shut up, get away.”

He takes another step closer and hooks his finger to the collar of your shirt to reveal your chest that’s only covered with a bra.

“I know the female body really well, and I know women really like having their tits sucked, have you ever had your tits sucked before?”

This time you push him harder and hug your shirt closer to your chest. “You’re crossing the limits Taehyung. Get away.”

He laughs playfully and feigns innocence before tapping your nose. “You’re so cute do you know that? I’ll see you on the break, maybe you should do some thinking until then.”

Mira the hairstylist pushes Taehyung back onto his chair and takes the headband off of his head, you reorganize the makeup into the makeup bag when you overhear him asking her. “Are you feeling better today?”

Mira sounds flustered when she answers him. “Shut up.”

Maybe he did actually fuck over half of the girls around this room, this man is unbelievable.

-

As soon as the first part of the concert ended they moved backstage again to change and have their makeup retouched, you knew he was going to start the awkward talk again so you put your airpods  on and pretended to be listening  to music even if you weren’t. His eyes were  piercing through your entire body the whole time.

He takes out his phone and opens the gallery to purposely open a video he filmed, he could see that you were watching his screen so he turns up the brightness on his phone.

In the video was a naked girl on her knees in front of him, her hands tied behind her back and her makeup was smudged, she was begging him to make her cum . And he was caressing her cheek and  putting his thumb between her lips.

Your facial expressions change and you find yourself cringing, he looks at you and bats his eyelashes. “I told you.”

“Taehyung, this is wrong on so many levels.” You push his face to the side to work on his makeup.

“It isn’t, I promise.” He shakes his head. “I promise you no one will ever know. We can spend a couple nights together and that’s it, no strings attached.”

And you immediately refuse. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you close with any of the girls around here?” He asks and you’re a little taken back at his question. “Yeah?”

“Who?”

“Luna I guess.” You name one of the girls while shrugging and he scoffs, before exiting the video on his phone and scrolling through it to open another video.

In it you see Luna one of your closest friends in the company, blindfolded in a bed and Taehyung’s face is in between her legs as he’s eating her out. Is it really okay to mess around?

“You can’t be serious.” You gasp. “Is it only you or do the other guys do the same?”

“I don’t care, but if you have your eye on someone I could hook you two up together or something.” He shrugs and your jaw visibly  drops. “You are unbelievable Kim Taehyung.”

“Wait until you try me in bed. I’m a fucking god.” He confidently speaks and you’re shocked, you’ve known the man for years but this is totally new for you. “Name someone else.” He exits the video on his phone before you shake your head. “No thanks, I don’t think I wanna see anymore.”

He locks his  phone and leans his head back onto the chair while crossing his arms. “Just think it through and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“It seems to me like you’re the one begging for sex.” You force a smirk, his eyes meet yours for a couple seconds and he mirrors your smirk. “What if I was?”

“You’re getting nothing anyway.” You shrug. “You’re done, get up.”

“Oh I get it.” He remains in his seat. “Are you attracted to someone else? Let me guess, is it Jungkook? All women have something for that jerk.”

“I can’t deny he’s cute. But nope.”

“Is it Seokjin?” He tilts his head. “No, is it Jimin? Do you have a kink for cute guys or something?”

You roll your eyes and turn your head to walk away before he grabs your wrist. “Can you make my lips a little darker please?”

You look around trying to find the lip brush before dabbing some color onto his lips. “I’ve been told that I was good with my mouth, I just care about you so much I feel the need to make you experience it.”

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and put the lip brush away, he rises up on his feet while laughing, “Alright I promise I’m done, but I just want you to think it through, you won’t regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m changing my mind.” You clean up your station, he brushes his entire body against your back and whispers. “Will you be there tomorrow on the episode filming?”

“Well I guess unfortunately I’m always there.” You flinch in your spot and immediately take a step back. “Taehyung please stop touching me like that.”

“Alright.” He takes a step back and whispers. “I have a surprise for you tomorrow, I promise you will love it.”

“Then maybe I should call sick.” You look at his reflection through the mirror, he smirks and high key stares down at your ass, a second away from actually groping it in front of the entire staff and his band mates. “So I’m guessing you don’t like surprises.”

“From you? Nope.” You turn to face him, realizing you’re sandwiched between him and the mirror behind you, “May I?” You clear your throat, trying to find a way to get away from him, he stands next to you and gives you enough space to walk out of the room, his eyes still locked onto your ass, thank god it was summer time and thank god for biker shorts. Taehyung was suffering when he can clearly see the outline of your panties through your shorts and he can’t do anything about it.

Your rejection only makes him insist more and Taehyung grew up spoiled, people got him everything he wanted, and if they didn’t, he made sure to get it in his own way. So your rejection doesn’t really matter to him. He will have you eventually.

Even if you said no.

-

It’s the next day and you were already on the set, luckily one of the other stylist couldn’t make it so you had to work with Namjoon and Jimin instead. You could clearly see Taehyung’s eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror even when he’s three chairs away. You roll your eyes when he winks at you and he even dares to blow a cheap kiss. Your friend Leah who’s been working on his face rolls her eyes too and stands in the way.

“Do you wanna put your lenses on?” You ask Namjoon, he takes one look at the mirror and shrugs. “I don’t feel like putting lenses on, what do you think?”

“You’d look good both ways, but maybe I should put more eye makeup on if you’re not putting lenses on, is that okay?” You fish out another palette and show him the colors and he nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Of course. Y/N’s so good you have no idea.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and walks towards you. “You’re lucky she listens to you, I tried suggesting things to her but she kept saying no.”

Namjoon scoffs and grabs out his phone. “It’s because she’s smart.” Does he know about his friend?

“Don’t you want to know about the surprise?” He puts one of his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to you, his other hand picking onto your top, even sneaking a look under it.  Practically there was nothing to see, the studio they were filming in was freezing cold so you had an extra layer on. You subtly push his hand away and look back at Namjoon’s face trying to finish him up. It was basically impossible with Taehyung distracting you.

He takes another step closer this time his body almost touching yours as he whispers. “I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot after we’re done filming, please come.”

You sigh and look at him, this can’t end up will and it won’t. His personality specifically scares you and you could swear the man was bipolar in some sort, when sometimes he’s all flirty and shit, and all of a sudden he claims this character that’s so innocent and cute which doesn’t really suit him.

“I’ll think about it.” You put the brush down and tap Namjoon’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, thank you.” He barely smiles and immediately leaves his chair to go and lay down on the nearest couch. You turn your head back to put the brush back into the makeup bag and Taehyung is still standing there. His eyes still scanning your entire body.

He’s a man with a plan, and honestly he knew exactly how he wants to have you. He scans you head to toe, your hair that he wants to pull on while he’s pounding into you uncontrollably, your lips and neck that he cannot wait to bite into. The way you bite your lip when you’re anxious or when you try to hide a laugh always ignited him.

Your chest, fuck he can easily tell the color of your bras and he even knows when you do your laundry, he knows exactly when are the days you wear on your sports bra, or the days you switched to your black bra that perfectly highlighted your tits. Although he grew to be a fan of your pastel pink bra that makes the color of your skin pop, he admires how the cups hug onto your big tits and this bra’s straps particularly keep sliding down your small shoulders.

He moves down to your waist and hips, the outline of your panties through your pants were like a gift from god to him, he would purposely drop things down on the floor just to watch you pick it back up, and those days would usually end up with him either hooking up with someone just to let it out of his system, or just jerk it off alone in his place.

Your juicy ass is going to be the death of him, he would sometimes sneak into the gym at the company just to watch you jog in your tights, satiating his eyes and scratching an itch inside him just to watch it jiggle right before his eyes.

During their tours he would constantly grab your handbag into his hotel room, making an excuse that your handbags look alike even when they aren’t even remotely close to being similar. He would lock the door right away and rummage through your clothes just to fish out all your panties and jerk off to them, one being around his cock and the other one near his nose and lips, sniffing and inhaling whatever is left onto them of your smell, even though they were washed, but he convinced himself that this is how you smell. It was really erotic.

And before you notice your bag missing, he would quickly take pictures of your panties just for him to keep and return them to your bag and switching it out with his. He lost control so many times and “Accidentally” Shot his seed onto your panties, and with the small span of time he had, he had to return them soiled into your handbag.

Which when you discovered it was already dried up, you huffed and the naïve you thought it was the bottle of your conditioner blew up or something, which if you think harder and open your eyes, it was only one soiled panty.

Taehyung had a goal, and growing up not being surrounded by many women in his life, he’s compensating but in an abnormal way, he has hooked up with over half the women who work in your company and it was your turn and he wanted to have you just so he can check your name on the list and tick it done.

“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer announces which snaps Taehyung out of his thoughts. “So did you pack for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, aren’t you excited?” You genuinely ask, you packed up your carry on the night before since you’re all heading to Osaka tomorrow for their tour. You can’t deny you love your job, you get to travel all over the world with them and you even get paid for it. But little do you know, there will be a price you have to pay.

“Oh yeah, even when it’s just for one day but I love Osaka.” He looks behind you and you follow his eyesight to find one of the stylists wearing short shorts that her lower butt cheek was clearly visible to everyone. You look back at Taehyung to see him still glancing at her ass with his head tilted. “Oh my god Taehyung, stop.”

He laughs and takes his phone out. “Come take a look. Her ass didn’t look like that when she was naked.” You debate for a second but you’re human after all and you’re a little curious, you stand next to him and watch him dig through a locked folder on his phone, scrolling up for a good two minutes before he finds the picture.

It was that stylist laying flat on the bed face down, her hand tied behind her back and her bare ass was sore read, clearly spanked and fucked until she passed out. And he was right, her ass didn’t look the same when she was naked. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that this isn’t wrong.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better I get their consent before I do anything.” He scrolls up again. “Wanna see something else? Look, this is her.”

He hands you one of his airpods and you put it on, and he starts a video of her down on her knees, her eyes blood red, clearly she was either drunk or high, and she was begging him to slap her on the face with his thumb into her mouth.

“Shit.. Please daddy, please spank me and make me yours.”

“Good girl, are you going to be daddy’s little whore and beg more?”

“Please spank your little whore on the face, it feels so fucking good when you do that, please spank me.”

And he slaps her hard on the cheek enough to make her hair fall on her face, but she immediately looks back at him and begs him to do it again and again and he does. And you can’t help but to notice the tip of his cock showing in the video. “How does getting slapped on the face feel good? I don’t get it.”

“Shh-“ He notices your voice getting a little higher and opens up another video. “You shouldn’t knock it till you try it, every girl I’ve been with said it felt amazing.”

“Do you think you would enjoy getting slapped on the face?” You ask, blinking your eyes a couple of times, he smirks and locks his phone. “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m willing to try it with you if you want to, maybe you can slap me on the face while you’re riding my dick, we’ll see if it feels good.”

Your face flushes at his explicit mentions of sex, you hit him on the arm and turn away from him, packing your kit into the makeup bag and taking a seat finally. And your flushed cheeks are considered as a good sign to him, he’s getting there and he’s slowly sinking his claws in to have you eventually.

The episode they’re filming took them a little over eight hours, you’re already packed and ready to leave and you hesitate actually going down to the parking lot, it’s almost an hour after filming and you’re not sure he’s still in the building or not.

The elevator stops at -1 and you make your way out, the entire floor is near empty and you can only spot around four cars parked around the floor, and all of them seem empty, except for the Genesis Suv that’s parked way back in the corner that flashes it’s lights repeatedly. It’s him.

You make your way there and reach your hand to the door handle and try to open it but it’s locked. Quite a trashy move of him to actually call you over and forget his car locked. You roll your eyes when he unlocks the car and you go inside. “What?”

“What?” He mocks you and locks his car again, “How was your day?”

“Taehyung just make it quick will you? We have a flight to catch tomorrow and I’m nowhere near ready—“ You’re interrupted by him shushing you and grabbing your purse away from you to put in the back seat. He reaches his entire body to the car floor and takes out a little box that’s wrapped in a tiny velvety ribbon. “This is my surprise for you.”

You’re intrigued. Your gaze meets his for a split second before you reject the box. “I can’t take gifts from you.”

He doesn’t even argue as he offers you the box again. “Hey, you don’t have to open it now if you want to.” He puts the box down onto your lap and leans his arm on the middle console. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning and you’ll tell me what you think, deal?”

You’re even more intrigued and you’re getting more curious to actually find out what’s inside, and why would he actually stay after schedule just to hand you this gift? You even shake the box while suspiciously maintaining eye contact with him which makes him smirk. You can only hear one thing clicking in the box and you can’t quite put a finger on it and figure out what it is?

“Alright, whatever. Are you going to drive me to my place or what?” You already put your hand on the door handle ready to leave the car. “No I can’t I’m sorry, I have a place to be, I can get you to the bus stop if you want to.” He just says that out of pity. What a douche.

“No thank you, I’ll walk there.” You squint your eyes before you leave the car, he doesn’t even wait for you to walk out of the building and he drives away fast, he really is a douche.

Public transportation wasn’t a big deal for you anyway, the ride home on the bus was very therapeutic to you, you usually keep your headphones on and listen to an audio book on your way back to clear your mind, or you would usually catch up with your friends on the group chat or something.

Sometimes you would even fall asleep if it was an exhausting day, but on your trip home tonight you were anticipating getting to your studio apartment so much, not that you’re greedy for the gift or anything, but you’re just curious why he so suddenly decided on giving you a gift that actually looks expensive.

You get there after a 40 minute trip and you finally get into your flat, not even taking your shoes off you rush to your couch and put the box down and untie the little dainty velvety ribbon, you take the top of the box off and you only see a few wrapping papers covering what seems to be a clothing item. You take it out and you feel your entire body heat up. It’s a costume.

No no, not any costume, it’s a little too slutty to be an actual costume. It’s a black leather one piece with spaghetti straps, a really low neck line that you know no one’s chest will ever fit in them. Not only that, but a pair of black lace stockings and suspenders, and a choker.

What in hell..

You put them down on the couch beside you and dig deeper into the box to find cat ears headband and a.. What the actual fuck.

A butt plug?

You cannot believe him, you put the blame on yourself for actually listening to him and meeting him up in the parking lot, and you shouldn’t have accepted the gift in the first place, he’s an actual man whore.

You scrunch up the entire outfit in a messy ball and throw it back in the box, before closing it and throwing it near your door on the floor, so you can pick it up and throw it in the trash in the morning.

-

A mini-van is supposed to collect all the girls up from their places and head to the airport, and of course you’re late. Last night’s sleep was horrendous, you couldn’t stop overthinking about the little trashy gift you got from the trashy man. You cannot believe some girls actually idolize this man.

“Y/N, if we miss the flight we have to book one ourselves.” Mira shouts as you hurriedly close your carry on and struggle to put on your pair of sneakers. You look at the trash near your door and sigh. “Damn it. I have to take the trash out.”

“Nope, you’re not taking anything out, I’m not willing to pay anything extra for the job I cannot stand.” She’s slowly losing her patience and so are you. You forget about the trash and get out of your place and lock your door.

The moment you get to the airport it’s already chaotic. Their schedule has been up since last week to the public and their fans know that they’re going out for tour, so they’re waiting there to hand them gifts and handmade letters. Again you cannot believe the image he shows to people of him when you know his true personality.

And boy was he good at faking an entire persona, you have no idea what girls think of him but fuck he’s nowhere near how girls imagine him. A trashy human being that you could swear reeks like sex the entire time. He looks like he woke up with a hangover so you guess he was probably with someone last night and he was onto something.

He notices your existence amid all the chaos when you all get up to the lounge to have your breakfast even when you could’ve waited to get to Japan to eat, the trip wasn’t that far away. You grab yourself a cup of coffee and stack up food on your plate, you know you won’t have the time to eat later so you decide on fueling up early today.

“Good morning.” He puts his coffee down on the same table you’re sitting around and you sigh before looking around. Relax Y/N, you cannot make a scene.

“Good morning.” You proceed on eating, you cannot let him ruin your morning this quickly.

“So, what do you think?” He crosses his legs and tilts his head towards you. “The moment I saw the costume I knew I had to buy it for you.”

“Mhm, truly says a lot about your character, a trashy gift from someone like you.” You don’t beat around the bush. He laughs and leans towards you to whisper. “Please tell me you got it in your luggage.”

“Nope, I’m getting rid of it—“

He shrugs right away. “Then I’ll buy you another one.”

A moment of silence fills the air when your gaze meets his for a couple seconds, he pulls his chair closer to yours and takes his phone out which makes you whine. You know he’s going to show you more of his kinky NSFW content and it’s really uncomfortable for you to watch it. “Look, I don’t know how I can explain this better for you, but trust me. It is okay for things like that to happen in this field.”

“Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t mean it’s right.” There you go, a girl with standards.

“I swear it is okay.” He pulls his chair even closer and now his shoulder is rubbing against yours when he whispers. “Y/N baby, us men are totally different. You girls can go around without sex for ages and you won’t even care. But men have this sexual energy that they need to let out one way or another.”

This is really disgusting.

“And people like us need to be careful on who to hook up with, and you girls are the safest because we work together.” He shrugs. “Not only us, every idol in the country has to do so.”

Of course it’s partially right, but you’re genuinely confused on why wouldn’t he just get a girlfriend instead of bitching around with plenty of women.

“You know, the idea itself is not that acceptable, but I can understand. But why do you film them? For the love of god you have an entire folder on your phone dedicated to this content. I mean, why do you have to film them when you have them right there in front of you?”

“Good question.” He nods. “You know how some people try and discover themselves, they sometimes dig around here and there trying to find out what actually turns them on, and you know they try and discover their preferences?”

“Are you trying to mansplain what kinks are?” You proceed on eating. “So is that your kink? You like filming women?”

“It’s more fun than the actual thing to me. And the times I made myself cum to the videos I created are countless. It’s fucking sexy.” He grits on his teeth and puts an arm around your chair. You’re getting uncomfortable with him not leaving you enough amount of personal space. “I love watching them looking at the camera and begging to be fucked and just submit to me.”

“And they’re all okay with being filmed?” You ask him and he nods right away. “Now they know what I like, and now they ask me to film them. What about you?”

“No, I’m good thank you.” You answer right away and put down your fork when you’ve fully wiped your plate clean.

“No, I mean what kinks do you have? Have you tried discovering what your preferences are?” He asks, twirling a strand of your hair in his hand, you can feel his breath against your ear when he whispers. “What was it like being fucked the first time?”

It takes you a moment to answer but you eventually do. “I don’t remember what it was like, it was long ago, but I don’t recall it being fun.”

“First time is always awkward.” He nods. “What about the second time?”

You shrug one shoulder and cross your arms. “I don’t think of sex the way you do. I mean I’ve had sex multiple times with different partners, but I think it’s a little overrated.”

“Overrated?” He’s offended. His hand sits on his chest. “You think sex is overrated?”

“Okay chill.” You get up on your feet to refill your coffee and he follows you. “I just don’t find it as fun and as pleasuring as people claim it is.”

“It’s because you haven’t had it with the right person.” He defends right away. “Oh my god did you even cum before?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe.”

He’s interrupted by your gate opening, their carryon luggage is carried and already loaded inside and the rest of the staff is starting to board. “This isn’t finished yet. I’ll see you when we get to our hotel.”

“Whatever Taehyung, don’t make a big deal out of this.” You push him away to grab your bag and get in line. “It is a big deal.” He argues one last time and gets in line and boards the plane.

-

You have no idea what went through you, but the entire flight you were rethinking your conversation with him and you find yourself slowly getting convinced about the idea generally. You really surprised yourself when you hum out loud, thinking that you are getting curious to try and spend one night with him.

Do girls actually want to sleep with him because he’s good? Or because he’s an idol and that’s like literally a fetish to some people.

You cannot deny he’s really good looking, he’s really charming on camera but even the camera doesn’t do him any justice, he was perfectly sculpted in real life and way more attractive than people think.  But it’s just his recurrent sexual behavior that’s been setting you off. You find yourself cringing.

The entire plane has been booked for Bangtan and their staff. Them with their managers, security, filming staff, directors, producers, engineers, stylists and makeup artists of course, editors. Everyone on this plane knew each other.

It was a little noisy to begin with since some are catching up and some are chatting, so you put your earphones on the entire flight, and right when your third song on your playlist ended and the fourth one is about to start, you over hear the girls behind you.

“You need to cover for me when we get there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can barely stand on my feet, and I’m really sore from last night.”

“Who did you spend the night with? I thought you were inviting me.”

“Taehyung and Jungkook. I passed out at the end.”

“You’re kidding.” 

So it is normal for girls to actually sleep with them and go around telling their friends like it’s totally okay. It’s starting to feel like a whore house, and it probably is.

You peak your head to look towards Jungkook and Taehyung, both of them are sleeping and even snoring. Of course they’re tired when they spend the previous night with the same girl. This is so fucked up.

Not long after you all get to the hotel to spend the only free hour you get before your day starts and you all head to the stadium for rehearsals. You’re surprised that the entire hotel is booked for the staff too and you luckily get your own room with one single bed, but who are you to complain? You always hated having roommates, so one bed is way better than having a roommate.

Right when you’re about to close the door a foot stops it from moving any further which startles you for a second before you open the door again. Of course it’s him, who’s been digging deep and moving around asking stylists which room you got. “Oh come on.” You whine.

“Can I come in?” He so politely and innocently asks, for a second you’d doubt he’s the same person who showed you an entire folder of girls begging him to do stuff to them. He doesn’t even step a foot further inside your room before you huff and roll your eyes. “Come in.”

He takes one last look to the corridor and walks in, the door automatically locking when it closes.

“What’s up?” You act occupied as you take out your skin care products to put onto the dresser. He plops down onto your bed and grabs the pillow to put under his head. “We have unfinished business.”

“Taehyung, don’t you take no for an answer?” You don’t even spare him a glance.

“Hey, If it makes you feel any better, I’m your friend and colleague, we’re around the same age, consider this as a friend helping another friend.” He shrugs and talks as if it’s that easy. “And if it makes you comfortable, I’m not filming you if you don’t want to.”

“Oh yeah, because filming me was the only problem.” You turn your head to the little coffee machine in the corner of your room and make yourself a cup, he doesn’t argue back which makes you wonder why, you turn your head and he’s literally digging into your handbag and taking out one of your bras.

“Kim fucking Taehyung.” You snatch your bra away from him. “Get out.”

“I knew you were a C cup.” He gets up onto his feet. “Look, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, but I don’t know why you’re really over thinking it. It’s just a one time thing, we hook up and that’s it, no one has to even know.”

“You could easily lure any woman into bed and we both know it, but snatching away my bra and showing me your stupid kink and shit won’t get me into bed with you.” You put your bra back into your handbag and close it.

“Then tell me how.” He puts his hand into his pockets. “What could get Y/N to sleep with me?”

“Exactly, and it’s nothing, nothing could get me to sleep with you Taehyung, this is fucked up.”

“Money? How much and I’ll give it to you cash, right now.”

The audacity on this man.

“Oh my god, you’re making it even worse if you can’t tell. Get out.” You open the door to your room.

He huffs and walks towards the door to shut it again. “Okay, look, I’m sorry if this offended you I didn’t mean so. But again why are you rejecting it? Millions of women want to be in your place.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m not one of those millions. Besides, how am I supposed to look at you again if we ever slept together?” You cross your arms.

“Like you’ve always looked at me.” He pouts. “Nothing will change, no strings attached, it’s just one night, is it my fault that I really want you to enjoy one night?”

You open the door again and look him in the eye, your coffee is already gone cold and you’re over this argument. He closes the door again and tugs your hair behind your ear, whispering softly. “Y/N.. I feel like you’re different, you’re nothing like other girls, you’re a really nice, sweet and attractive young lady that deserves to feel like a woman.”

It’s a little alarming to you that with such small physical contact with him could make you think about it seriously.

There’s nothing to lose, you’re a woman after all and you have your needs.

He promised you one night, no strings attached, and apparently he’s really good and he knows what he’s doing.

“Don’t you think you deserve to have at least one night of mind blowing sex?” He grins and grazes the back of his hand against your cheek. “We’re flying back to Seoul tomorrow night, I’ll give you enough time to think, and maybe I can have your phone number or something, we could stay in contact and probably discuss things while keeping it on the low key.”

“Discuss?” You squint your eyes.

“Yeah, we could talk, tell me what you like and how you like it, you know, stuff like that.” He elaborates, you sigh and look him in the eyes. “What if we happen to like different things?”

“Then I’m willing to let go of the things that I like just for your sake.” He crosses his fingers. “I’m a good boy I promise.”

“Fine.” You can’t believe yourself. You take your phone out of your back pocket and proceed to add him to your contacts, a satisfied smile lingers on his face and he even leans forward to print a kiss to your cheek. He’s totally buttering up his bread and he thinks he can get you to agree to this faster, but you’re smarter than him.

“You’re crossing the lines Taehyung.”

“Who cares about the damn lines, if we agree to this I’ll be kissing other things and you’ll want me to.” He opens the door to your room and walks out. “I’ll see you around.”

And indeed. After your one hour free time you all headed to the stadium for rehearsals, the concert was happening tomorrow but everyone needed orientation around the place.

During the entire day he never brought it up, neither look at you like he has been recently, he kept it professional with you in front of everyone and never spoke about it like it never happened.

You were scheduled to leave the stadium at around 11 in the evening, the girls decided on going out for dinner but you skipped, you had multiple coffees during your day and you don’t feel physically well, so you just head back to your hotel and take the elevator up to your room.

You gasp when you see him about to take the elevator and go down, you barely recognize him when he has a cap and a face mask on. “Oh, hey Y/N.” He so casually speaks.

“Hey, you’re going out?” Why did you even ask. He laughs softly and shakes his head. “No, I’m going downstairs to grab a bite from the buffet, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you going out?”

“I’m a little tired, I guess I’ll just go to sleep or something.” It feels like you’re talking to the Taehyung you’ve always known for the past years, nothing feels different so far.

He looks at the time on his wrist and looks back at you. “If you want to, I’ll grab something to eat quickly and come hang out with you, maybe we can talk about that thing.”

Yup, never mind.

“I think I’d rather sleep.” You walk out of the elevator and he walks in instead. “Come on, 10 minutes max, I won’t be late.”

You shouldn’t have asked him anything in the first place.

“You know, I don’t think it would be a good idea if you and I stayed alone in one room.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to spice things up, we’re just hanging out discussing things, like other colleagues do.” He presses the button on the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”

And the elevator door closes before you could even shoo him away for the evening. He’s just going to come up to your room later and you know he’ll force himself inside.

You click the key card to your room and immediately change to your pajamas, you even turn off the lights and hope he thinks you’re asleep by the time he knocks at your door.

Thankfully time passed by and he never knocked. But instead he went back to his room and decided to text you.

1:54 | KTH:

Couldn’t come by sorry

1:54 | KTH:

Are you still awake?

1:54 | KTH

Wanna come over to my room 😉

KTH sent a photo

KTH sent a video

Of course he can see your read receipts, he knows you’re awake and he even lured you further into the conversation by sending you a photo and a video that you rush to open.

He’s not exactly there in the photo, the picture is taken of his TV turned on and he’s under the blanket, you can only see his covered legs from above the blanket, nothing too special.

The video is what makes your ears buzz, you find yourself pressing your thighs closer to each other, when he palms what seems to be his erection from above the blanket, and holy fuck was he big or were you hallucinating. You turn the volume up and you can hear his breath changing with every stroke of his cock. He inserts his hand under the blanket and strokes his cock before flipping the camera to his face and smiling like nothing happened.

Luckily that video is on replay, so it keeps replaying on its own unless you swipe it away, you don’t know what possesses you, you put your phone down against the used coffee cup from earlier and pull your pants down, your hand travels down to your folds and you touch yourself, delivering circular continues rubs to your clit and teasing your entrance with your middle and ring finger.

You spit onto your fingers and move further down again to rub your clit faster this time, your shoulders tensing and your hand already growing tired. It always takes you so long to get to your edge and you need a stimulant more than just a stupid photo or a video. Your other hand moves to grab your breasts out of your top and you pinch your nipple and squeeze onto your flesh. “Mmm.” Your eyes are piercing through your phone screen but your stupid screen saver decides on locking your phone which makes you whine desperately. “Ugh.” You grab your phone and unlock it, of course the video is gone.

2:03 | KTH:

Like what you see?

Has it been 9 minutes already?

Your fingers rush to type on the screen.

2:03 | You:

🙄

2:04 | You:

Mister kim is spending a night alone how weird

2:04 | KTH:

Mister Kim?

2:04 | KTH:

You can keep calling me mister kim if you want to 😉

You bite onto your fingernails, wanting to send a risky text but you’re so unsure. Your fingers hover over the screen and you proceed to type, but quickly delete what you wrote.

2:05 | KTH:

Want me to send you more? Maybe you can send me some

And of course this is off the table, you’re not going to send him nudes not because you’re against sending them generally, but you’re against sending nudes to him. Your pictures may end up in a folder on his phone like any other woman.

2:06 | You:

Goodnight.

Taehyung has been dealing with women like you for years now, he can see and expect any behavior that you may project and this is one of these situations. You sending him goodnight didn’t quite literally mean goodnight. He knows you want this to happen but you’re still in denial and you don’t know that yourself.

So of course, without thinking twice, he opens the camera on his phone and this time pulls the blanket down a little just to reveal the tip of his cock that’s pressed against his stomach. He grabs the massage oil to pump some onto his long fingers and strokes his angry dick again.

The man has been with so many women that he built a stamina that no regular woman can take, he can go for hours and women even beg him to cum just so they can rest, he was animalistic and it was out of this world, hence women actually passing out when sleeping with him. Stroking his cock alone won’t get him to his end and he could easily calm his erection without having to cum, the self control on this man is incredible.

 He touches the red circle on his phone screen and starts filming, clearly teasing you and showing you only the tip, his cock all glistening from the massage oil. It was quiet around his hotel room, and the only thing that’s heard in the video is the sound of stroking heard clearly when it’s this slippery, and the sounds he was unbelievably good at faking, little whimpers and moans, his breath hitching and even swear words escaping his lips. “Fuck.. Mm, Y/N, this is all for you.”

The video was sent to you, and you don’t hesitate to open it, this time actually positioning yourself on the bed and grabbing out one of the thickest makeup brushes you have on hand, wetting it with your mouth and slowly teasing your entrance before pushing it inside. The video starts and your fingers abruptly move to turn up the volume. Your body instantly heats up and reacts upon the sounds you hear, and holy fuck you can clearly see the tip, and it looks fucking edible at this moment.

You cannot believe this is happening and you feel your face even heating up, is it embarrassment? You can’t tell, it may be embarrassment but hey you’re not the one sending nudes he is. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Well except the fact that you’re masturbating to a video of him.

You hear your name and in a click of a button, your stomach tightens and your back arches, your hand moves faster to insert the back of the makeup brush further inside your thirsty pussy as you chase your orgasm. Even when the brush was cold and it practically didn’t feel like skin nor had the size of an actual dick but it was enough for you to let go.

Your chest heaves and your legs shut tightly around your hand and the video still plays on your phone that’s still nesting in your other hand, your eyes locked onto the screen afraid that you can’t see the same shot anymore when you swipe away.

The last bit of self control of you finally washes into your body and you swipe away, you can’t deny you immediately regret but you had to swipe away at some point.

2:35 | KTH:

I thought I’d hear u cum but I didn’t L

Your body stiffens and you immediately get up onto your feet, the makeup brush slips out of your vagina down onto the floor and you rush to see through the peephole and immediately cover your mouth with your hand when you see him standing there on his phone, leaned against your door and still texting you. Your hand that’s holding your phone is leaned against the door so with every text he send it vibrates and the entire door vibrates with it which makes him look at the peephole from his side.

And holy fuck at this point you’re terrified. Luckily your room is dark and he can’t see anything, but he knows you’re watching him. You rush to grab your pants and put them back on and get under your blanket. As if he’s going to open the door at any second and hurt you.

You shut your eyes tightly trying to avoid looking at your phone screen but you eventually do.

2:38 | KTH:

Sent you 9 messages.

The door to your room knocks and you actually gasp, covering your mouth again but the entire floor was so quiet and empty that if a needle fell everyone would hear it.

You get up onto your feet and put on a jacket to cover yourself even when your pajama wasn’t revealing at all, you just put your jacket on for protection. You look through the peephole one last time before you open up and he almost stumbles because he leaned his entire body weight against the door. “Hey, I thought you’d never open.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You hug your jacket closer to your chest and cross your arms, “What’s up?” He asks with a smirk on his face as he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him, “So what did it feel like?”

“Hmm?” You open the mini fridge and grab water out for yourself to take a few sips. He chuckles and puts his hands into his pockets. “Y/N baby, I know your body more than you do. Your face has the afterglow and you’re not breathing regularly, and your lips are blood red. What did it feel like when you made yourself cum to the video?”

“Taehyung I—“

“What did you like the most? The sounds or your name actually being called when I’m jerking off to you?” He plops down on your bed and throws his phone down on the nightstand.

“I’m not breathing regularly because you’re over here past midnight spying on my door.” You sit across the room, maintaining a good amount of space between you two. “And please don’t call me baby, I’m not your baby.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs. “We’re just chatting, trust me I’m not going to touch you if you don’t give me your consent I promise, besides I-- Hey, what’s that?”

His eyes land on the makeup brush that’s dropped down onto your floor, and the glistening tip is what caught his attention. “What do you mean, this is a makeup brush.” You rush to stand up and run towards it but he’s faster than you are, he picks it up from the floor and a smirk sits on his face, fuck he even grabs it closer to smell it and he knows what this smell is. But yours was sweeter and truly different from other smells.

“Would you look at that.” He scoffs. “A makeup brush? Really?”

“Stop.” You bite onto your own teeth and you approach him to snatch it away, but again he’s faster. He licks the tip of the brush once and smacks his tongue into his mouth before swallowing. “Mm.”

Your entire body freezes when you watch him savor it, he licks  the tip of the brush clean with his eyes closed, you thought your body would react to it but none, you’re standing there stiff right before him when he gets up onto his feet. He opens his eyelids and his gaze meets yours, his pair of tight sleepy eyes gazing right through yours. “You taste heavenly.” He grabs your hand and puts the brush into it before leaving your room and closing the door behind him. The second you hear  the auto lock on the door you drop down to your bed with the brush in your hand.

Trails of his saliva are visible on the end of it and you cannot help but pull it closer to your mouth and lick it after him. You’re fucked.

You wake up the morning after wishing you could forget what happened last night. You’re pretty sure you’re embarrassed and ashamed at the fact that you got caught. You didn’t want this to happen to begin with, how are you supposed to look at him when you have to spend the entire day with him?

You pack your handbag and hand it to the hotel staff, you’re going straight from the stadium to the airport so you had to be ready and they took your bag to load the bus with the rest of the luggage.

“I don’t get it, we left the hotel at the same time, he’s supposed to be here.” Mira whines. The entire staff was ready and he wasn’t there yet. “The sound check is in less than an hour—“

“We know the schedule Mira, please just Shush.” You woke up on the wrong side of the bed and you weren’t ready to hear any whining, “Yeah Mira. I’m here give yourself a break.” Taehyung walks from behind you and gets seated onto the chair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Mira alone responds and proceeds to blow dry his hair while you take out your kit and completely ignore the man seated on the chair in front of you.

He’s trying to look at you sneakily but he’s keeping his promise, no one is going to know anything so he’s not going to be doing anything suspicious to the rest of the staff. “Are you feeling better today?” He asks politely.

“Me?” You point to yourself unsure if he’s talking to you, and he blinks his eyes in a “Yes.” Before speaking. “You weren’t feeling well when I saw you in the elevator last night.”

“Yeah, she didn’t join us for dinner, are you feeling well?” Leah asks while she’s working on Seokjin’s hair.

“Oh yes, I went to bed early and I’m doing well today.” You force a smile on your face and grab out the little bag that had all your makeup brushes.  That brush is the first thing you see when you open the tiny purse and it reminds you in case you forgot, that you were caught masturbation last night.

“You can start Y/N. I need to get a new bottle of hairspray from downstairs.” Mira puts her stuff down and walks away leaving you to work on Taehyung’s face.

“Can I ask you something?” He looks around before whispering and you answer him right away. “Nope.” Which makes him pout. You roll your eyes and start dabbing primer onto his face. “What do you want?”

“Did you really throw away the thing I got you?”

“Well, I’m planning to.” You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, he shrugs and whispers. “What you did yesterday would feel ten times better if you actually use the gift.”

“I don’t do butt stuff Taehyung.” You argue right away, still low enough for only you two to hear. He looks at you while squinting his eyes. “Who said anything about butt stuff?”

“You sent me a butt plug, don’t try and act oblivious, the gift didn’t send itself.” You grab his chin to throw his head back. “Silly, it wasn’t a butt plug, it was a vibrator.”

His face is right there you can easily slap him and make a scene, it’ll cost you your job but who cares.

“Don’t look  at me like that.” He scoffs. “Text me when you get home tonight I’ll show you how to use it.”

“I know how a vibrator works Taehyung thank you. Now would you stop moving I can’t blend the concealer well.” You try hard to change the topic, but the idiot grabs your purse of makeup brushes and takes out that brush and hands it to you. “Here, I think this one will do.”

Your gaze meets his for a couple seconds before he looks down at your lips and bites his own, totally imagining your lips swollen from all the kissing, the picture of you choking onto his dick that he drew in his head is now chasing him whenever he lays his eyes onto you.

Maybe you being mean to him made him actually want to have you more than before, you’re unlike them, other girls from your staff didn’t even think twice before hooking up with him. But you being a tough cookie made him ready to beg just to be with you even if it was just once.

[4ttack-ur-heart]

The Doctor Is In

Pairing: Zayne x mc (gender-neutral)

Summary: You’re fighting a terrible cold and Zayne steps in.

Warnings: none!

Genre: fluff

~The fic is short and sweet, I just wanted to take a small break from my Sylus series and pop something else out.

You throw a used tissue in the overflowing waste tin next to your bed. The curtains were draped shut and have stayed like that for the past three days.

You’ve come down with a nasty cold which included the works: a high fever, sweating and the chills, and extreme fatigue. You haven’t moved from your bed in the past 24 hours, too weak to eat or even use the restroom. Several empty water bottles and various types of medicine reside on your nightstand. Including your phone that has barely been touched throughout the last three days.

Groggily, you groan out as you wake up. The minimal light that bled through the cracks of the curtains and blinds irritates your sensitive eyes. You sit up slowly, being mindful of the dizziness creeping in your vision.

You use the restroom and brush your teeth, trying not the gag on the toothpaste. Once you rinse your mouth, you accidentally trigger a coughing fit.

Wiping your mouth with a towel, you trudge back to bed and when you lie down, your phone goes off.

“Hello..?” You say hoarsely.

There’s a delay on the other line before you hear your boyfriend’s voice. “Darling, are you alright?”

“Hi Zaynie.” A small smile inches up your face. “‘Miss you.”

“I miss you too, my love. The hospital is busy and I’ve been working shifts back to back. I’ve barely had time to check my phone, and now that I finally have a minute, I’m a little shocked to see no messages or missed calls from you.” Zayne tells you with concern in his tone.

Normally you have a tendency to spam Zayne when he’s working. You tell him it’s so he knows how much you miss him and he said he doesn’t mind. He likes reading about you day and listening to the voice audios you leave him about losing your headphones and then finding them ten minutes later.

“You’re not mad are you? I’m sorry I haven’t been as available recently and I’m worried that-”

You cut Zayne off with a coughing fit, the phlegm building up in your throat. When you’re done, you roll over into the blankets and press the phone tighter to your ear, your raspy voice tries to ease his concern. “No, no, I’m not mad at all. I’ve been sick the past few days.”

“Oh my, you sound terrible.” Zayne worries. “What are your symptoms?”

“I have a fever, chills, I’m sweating, no energy,” you list off and shut your eyes as you feel a small headache coming on.

“Have you eaten?”

“I haven’t had an appetite the past few days, not really.”

“Stay put, darling. I’m off in an hour and I’ll be over soon.”

You muffle another coughing fit. “No, baby, I’m okay. I can take care of myself, besides you’ve been working nonstop. You need to relax too.”

“Taking care of you is my relaxation.” He says. Over his side of the phone, you hear the intercom paging him. He sighs and lowers his voice as he speaks, “I’ll be over in two hours. Drink some fluids and take more medicine.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go, I love you.”

“Love you too.” And the line clicks dead.

Sighing, you put your phone back on the nightstand and fall back asleep within minutes.

——

By the time you wake up again, you hear rustling in the kitchen along with the smell of something good cooking.

You check the time and you’re not surprised to see it’s well over in the afternoon. Groaning, you roll over and force yourself to sit up, ignoring the ache in your joints.

You grab the blanket and wrap it around yourself, sniffling as your cold feet touch the hardwood floor.

“Zaynie?” You peek out of the room, seeing the open space of your living room empty. Walking to the kitchen, there’s a large pot on the stove. You peek over and see it’s filled with soup. The ingredients strewn across the countertop. You laugh internally when you don’t see any carrots.

“Darling?” Zayne comes out from the bathroom. “Come here, let me see.”

He gazed softens when he takes in your appearance. The blanket wrapped tightly around you, the dark circles under your eyes contrasting against the sickly color of your skin, and the sweat beading on your forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick before?” He chastised, raising a hand to your forehead.

“I didn’t wanna bug you. I know you’ve been busy with work.” You waddle over to the coffee table grab a tissue out of the box and wipe your nose.

“That’s not an excuse, dear. I take care of hundreds of people per day, I’m sure I can handle one more.” He places a hand on your back, guiding you to the sofa, running a hand over your sweaty head to brush your hair back. “Sit down, the food is almost ready.”

Zayne hands you the tv remote and resumes working in the kitchen. He had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up as he threw in the last of the seasoning. While the soup is simmering, he comes up to you with a small hand towel and places it on your forehead.

“There we are, this should help bring down the fever.” He places a tender kiss on your cheek and kneels in front of you. “Open.”

Zayne sticks a thermometer in your mouth and when the light flashes red, he frowns at the number.

“101.6.” He places the device on the coffee table. “Have you had a fever the entire time you’ve been sick?”

“Mhm.” You nod, eyes drooping shut as the cold compress actually manages to alleviate the pressure in your head.

“Okay, let’s have you eat now and then straight to bed.”

He brings over the steaming bowl of soup and helps you unwrap your arms from your cocoon of blanket. Your limbs ache as you take the small bowl from him. When the warm broth fills your mouth, you hum in contentment as the flavors coat your tongue.

You eat slowly, going only as fast as your stomach wants you to.

When you finish, Zayne takes your bowl to the kitchen and transfers the soup from the pot to a leftover container. He tidies up the mess and brings you a cap full of red medicine.

“Would you like to sleep here or go back to your room?” He asks, sitting next to you as you shoot back the bitter liquid.

“Wherever, Zaynie, I just wanna spend time with you.” You lean into him, eyes drifting shut. “Mmm, you’re nice and cool.”

His chilling body temperature feels calming against your fever-ridden skin. You lay down on his lap, your cheek pressed up against the material of his slacks. Zayne smiles when he hears soft snores coming from you only moments later.

His hand starts to expel little snowflakes as he massages it through your scalp, knowing the cool limb is satisfying.

After an hour of watching mindless tv, he gently moves your head onto one of the throw pillows and stands up.

Zayne spends the rest of the night in your bedroom. He cleans up the overflowing bin of tissues, changes the bedsheets, and opens the window to get some fresh air ventilating. When your room is clean, he comes back and carefully lifts you into his arms.

He brings you back to your room, chuckling softly as you hum in your sleep. Once you’re settled, he grabs a book and flicks to where he last left off.

——

The next morning, you wake up and immediately feel relief in your body. While still congested, your limbs do not ache as much and you didn’t wake up in a cold-sweat.

“Goodmorning, my love.” Zayne greets, a basket of laundry in his hands.

“Morning,” you smile through half lidded eyes.

“Let me take your temperature.” He says and walks up to you with the thermometer. The device chirps loudly before blinking orange this time. “99.5, still a fever, but at least you’re out of triple digits.”

Zayne places the thermometer on the now cleaned nightstand and grabs your face delicately in his hands. You hum again from his cooling touch.

“Aren’t you going to get sick?” You ask with a frown, not knowing how contagious you are.

“Don’t worry, I’ve taken lots of vitamin C and I have sick time saved if worst comes to worst.” Zayne peppers dozens of kisses along your cheeks and forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You giggle and gently push him away when you feel another coughing fit. He rubs your back in circles as you cough up more phlegm.

“Why don’t you take a cool shower?” He suggests. “It might bring your fever down more and I can heat up some more soup in the meantime.”

You nod and grimace as your limbs pop when you stand.

“You don’t have work today, do you?” You’d feel terrible if he spent what little free time he’s had in a while to take care of you.

“No, I don’t have any surgeries scheduled and I called Greyson. He said he’d take care of my patients today, so that means I can give you the proper care you need.” Zayne says and wraps his arms around you.

“Thank you, Zayne.” You say into his chest.

He chuckles, “What happened to Zaynie?”

“Thanks, Dr. Zaynie.”

“I’ll take care of you always, my darling.”

[chidorrrita]

・❥・and I just might know you too

the worries of a scientist never go away but you make them slightly better

: ̗̀➛ viktor x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: just sweet fluff, s1 act2 vik, angst if you squint your eyes and have watched s2 (but no spoilers so don't worry)

: ̗̀➛ wc: 1k+

: ̗̀➛ a/n: My finals are coming up and I’m feeling incredibly stressed so in the spirit of things I thought of making Viktor equally stressed so we can tear our hair out together

Progress Day is only a week away and Viktor couldn’t be more stressed. He’s spent almost every day he can at his lab, opting to sleep in his makeshift bed and eating subpar cafeteria food in order to try and finish the grand machinery he and Jayce have planned to show off. 

On the rare occasion, you drop by his little lair to leave an important paper from his apartment or a home cooked meal. He gives you a curt thank you and immediately returns to work leaving no time for distraction as you are often his biggest one. You had once come with plans of eating lunch with him, which he greatly appreciated, but had to turn down as he surely would not want to leave your company and work would never be done. So you keep your visits short if only to save Jayce the headache of yet another unfinished stack of papers on his desk.

The week slowly passes, uneventful and boring with Viktor cooped up, unable to share his new findings or sassy wit, which you sorely miss, but soon Progress Day arrives. 

The entirety of Piltover is buzzing in excitement and everyone at your job can’t seem to stop talking about what “Golden Boy” Talis has in store for them this year. Although it is a very exciting day, your giddiness is not towards the new fancy technology or the colorful parade, but rather a certain, currently distressed, scientist. Your boss yells over the commotion for everyone to settle down before sulking off to his office and you count the minutes until your shift is over.

The moment the clock hand hits three you are out of there, missing your boss once again shouting over the desks demanding a thank you for half-day of work, and rush out the door and towards the trolleys taking people to the center of town. You hop on the back just as one is leaving, nearly tumbling over your impatient feet before grabbing the copper pole, watching as the buildings get smaller in the distance as you approach the ever growing academy building. Leaping off the trolley, you race inside, taking two steps at a time on the several staircases until you find yourself in front of Viktor’s lab once again.

You rap your knuckles against the door once then twice. On the other side you hear light shuffling and the sound of a metal crutch hitting the floor until the door opens to an exhausted looking Viktor. 

The bags under his eyes have gotten significantly deeper, and his suit quite wrinkled no doubt from hours of hunching over his desk. His face visibly lightens at the sight of you 

“What a welcome surprise. I thought you were coming here after the ceremony.”

You step through, eyes scanning the messy state of his lab, crumbled paper strewn about the floor and varying sizes of metal gears taking up most of his desk.

“I was but my boss let us out early today. A sign of his endless generosity.” You draw out your words, elegantly throwing your hands up, as your boss is anything but generous. Chuckling to yourself, you spin on your back foot towards Viktor, taking in his disheveled appearance, the fluffy spikes pointing in all different directions. “I hope that’s okay.”

He lets out a light laugh, nodding his head. “Of course.” 

Closing the door behind him and settling into his stool pushed to the corner of his desk, the only part that isn’t covered in gears. You saunter over, leaning against the side of the desk, peering at piles of paper with chicken scratch writing that could only belong to Viktor. How he’s able to read his notes is beyond you. One of science's greatest mysteries. 

The desk creaks as Viktor places his elbows upon it, a hand above his brow then dragging it down his face in frustration, shutting his eyes. A low grumble escapes his chest before he blurts out “I just don’t understand.” 

You turn your head slightly, but stay silent and let him continue, and he lets out another dejected sigh. “The professor won’t allow us to present our new technology. We could be changing lives right now.” 

Now you’ve never been very scientifically inclined, but you have learned that much in the field is controlled by shady deals and red tape through Viktor. This must be another one of those cases and Viktor has never been one to care for what he would call “petty office politics” even concerning the Council. 

There isn’t much you can do other than comfort him, so you take his tired hands in yours, rubbing slow circles over his overworked tendons. “I’m sorry Vik.” 

His voice softens, relaxing against your touch. “There's no need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.” 

He momentarily leaves your hold to guide you in front of him, moving his papers and patting the empty spot on the desk. You oblige and gently take a seat as to not disturb the rest of his contraptions. Opening your legs, you scoot his stool closer with your feet, and he smoothly slots in between, head resting against your chest. The soft beating of your heart calms him, and he melts further into you. 

Your hand reaches up to brush through his thick hair, tucking it behind his ear, bending down to whisper, “it will all work out. I’m sure of it.”

He snorts and gives you an incredulous look. “How can you be so confident?” 

Your reply comes easily. “Because I know you. You’ll find a way. You always have.”

Any response he had dies on his tongue and instead he gives you a sheepish smile, cheeks turning slightly red at your compliment. You smile back, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss which only turns him even more red. He retreats back to your chest, arms circling around your waist squeezing tighter than before. 

Perhaps you are right. All this will work out in the end and he can do what he set out to be. Not merely a scientist chained to create whatever his contributors wanted but someone who actually helps people. Perhaps even help the people of Zaun. Give them the same hope you have given him.

He presses a kiss just above your heart, a promise to you and himself that he will stay true to his dream. 

[rimunagenius]

The One Where You Royally Screw Up.

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 3.1k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , slight smut, fingering, angst, use of ‘y/n’ if that even is one

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: part 4 is FINALLY here!! i’m so sorry for the delay, it was supposed to release friday but the cold i had thought i was getting over got worse in a span of hours so i said id release it on saturday, but i spent all my saturday in bed asleep bc i have the worst headache and nausea from the cold, and then today it was supposed to release early but the ending never got saved and i realized i had a communications test to take so i had to finish writing it and revising after…but it’s here!! finally. so this is angst so sorry, but trust, the pining and sexual tension that’s to come is gonna be worth it!!!

Part 4

| Series Masterlist |

This felt wrong. You knew it wasn't the best way to cope with the feelings you had realized you were harboring for Kate.

But you needed to get over it. You couldn't possibly be this self destructive, and let yourself fall your roommate. She let you live in her apartment, and gave you grace when you didn't help pay rent for the first two months, trying to find a new job.

She deserved better than to have a friendship ruined just because you loved liked her. It wasn't fair. But this didn't feel fair to you either. Kissing Juliana in the backseat of her car was the last place you wanted to be. This should be Kate. For a moment you thought it was.

That's how you ended up here. Over the span of several months since reporting Nick, he was removed off  campus and was doing time. You and Kate had celebrated the accomplishment and never spoke about it again.

Since then you two have been a lot closer. "Sleeping over" in eachothers room. Cuddling more on the couch. It all started that night you both skipped practice. You knew where it was going, so did she. But the inevitable outcome if the actions you two were so good at doing were going to ruin you both. You couldn't have that. That's why you took Juliana up on the date two months ago. You guys made it official that month.

You couldn't have what you and Kate so desperately wanted, cause when you were getting ready, you saw the way Kate watched you. The longing looks she gave you as she sat on the couch next to you, while you did your makeup.

The way you looked absolutely gorgeous in the outfit you wore out to dinner, how she wished she was the one having you on her arm, how she was the one seen in public with you, and got to bring you home at the end of the night. But she wasn't, so she tried not to make it a thing when you came home the next morning. Or when you two made it official.

"You like that?" Juliana whispered in your ear, a small giggle escaping her lips that you could feel throughout your body.

Your panting echoed in the car, while your hands traveling all over her body. Throwing your head back, you moaned as her fingers curled inside of you, fingertips brushing against the soft spongey part inside you. "Oh—Kate." You moaned it before you could even think.

Your body froze, any expecting orgasm thrown out the window. Her fingers paused, softly but swiftly removing her fingers from your sopping cunt. Grabbing a towel in the pocket behind the passenger seat, Juliana avoided looking at you while she cleaned the remnants of you off her hands.

"So, you guys aren't just friends?" Juliana knew that you and Kate were close, she didn't mind. Really. But she saw the way you looked at Kate when she'd leave after dropping you off at class. She saw the way Kate watched everything you did with a look on her face that made it seem like you hung the moon.

"What—that's not—I didn't mean—" You couldn't even think. How could you totally embarrass yourself and do that to Juliana. You didn't even know why you said it. In the far back of your mind, you guess you wished it was Kate. But you thought that was just the mere thought of your fantasies talking.

You've imagine what'd it'd be like to sleep with Kate, hell, every gay woman in America probably has. But that was just a fantasy. You liked Jules. Atleast you thought you did.

"No, tell me right now. Are you and Kate more than friends? I need to know so I don't think I have a chance with you." Julianas eyes were pleading. Sad. She wanted you two to work; she really liked you.

"We're not more than friends." You made sure to look her in the eyes when you said it. You didn't know if it was convince her, or to convince yourself. Maybe if you looked sincere and she believed it, then you would.

"But you want to be, right? Why else would you moan her name while i'm trying to fuck you?" Juliana wasn't mad, she just wanted to know why. Why did you go through with this, sleeping with her, knowing you wished she was someone else.

You couldn't answer her. You didn't know how. You looked down, grabbing your black tank top and sliding it over your head.

"I honestly have no idea, Jules." The name suddenly felt so foreign rolling off your tongue in this context. Juliana winced at the nickname. Suddenly feeling angry about it now.

"Don't call me that. Why did you say her name?" The next pieces of clothing to go on was your black biker shorts and underwear. Fixing your white tube socks, you searched for your shoes.

"I don't know." Was that all you could say to her? She surely deserved more than what you were giving, and you sure as hell weren't giving her anything.

"Stop saying I don't know and just say you like her. That's all I need to hear." Juliana's voice rose as you grabbed your ankle boot docs, sliding them on your feet.

"I don't like her, Jules—I mean, Juliana. I don't like her, okay?" Who were you kidding? Repeating the four words wasn't convincing anyone in the car.

"Jesus Christ, Y/n! Are you fucking kidding me!?" Now she was getting irritated. "You do! There...it's out in the open. Why didn't you just tell me before letting me think that I had a chance?" Her eyes went glassy, now turning pink.

"I don't know why I said it, okay? I think I do like her, and I know it's wrong for imagining her instead of you. You don't deserve that—"

"You're right. I don't." Juliana stepped out of the car, her never taking her clothes off, only aiming to please you, missing. She held the door open, so you could slide out. "Look, I'm not mad at you. I guess it's my fault for falling for you even after I saw how you looked at her."

Watching tears fall down her face, it brought tears to yours. You didn't mean to hurt her. You should've figure your shit out before starting anything. You should've figure out your feelings for Kate.

Thinking you could fill the void with a relationship and sex with another woman, without talking to someone about how you felt, was something only transactional on your end. You hurt someone's feelings because you couldn't figure out your own. How could you jump into a relationship with her?

"No, it's not your fault. I was so stupid for starting something with you—not that you're not great, because you are. But because I should've known what I was doing was wrong. It wasn't fair to you, I'm so sorry." You wiped a tear off her face, your frown deepening as you saw the hurt in her eyes grow.

"Give yourself some grace. I wouldn't know what it's like to fall inlove with someone i've been friends with for so long. It must be hard. But just—don't do this to someone else. Figure out your feelings first." Juliana turned and opened the passenger side door, you closing the backseat passenger door. She handed you your clip and your bag.

"Figure it out with Kate." She gave you a tight lipped smile, before waking around the front of her car and getting inside the drivers seat. You nodded your head, and decided you had to tell Kate.

Walking back to the apartment gave you plenty of time to think. You've been doing that so much lately, you don't know how to anymore. What happened to you?

You haven't recorded vlogs, get ready with me's, or any content for your channel in months. Opting for the vague communication with family and friends. The spiral of trying to get Kate out of your head, and trying to shove her back into the friend zone, was so consuming. You haven't even lived your life.

You needed to say it. You needed to tell someone. You needed to figure it out.

Walking inside, you set your bag and keys down on the counter. What the fuck were you going to say? How could you tell Kate that you and your girlfriend were hooking up, and the whole time you wished it was her.

Struggling to decide on who to tell, you settled for embarrassing yourself to a friend, who you knew would help you. Scrolling to find Jadas name in your contacts, you pressed her contact and listened to the phone ring.

"Hey, Jada!" You said when she answered the phone.

"Hey! What's up? You're coming to practice later, right?" Today was an off day. You usually only ever needed to be at like two practice a week.

"Today's an off day for me, and I would go as a spectator but that's why i'm calling." You swallowed the lump in your throat and sighed. This was gonna be so awkward to explain.

"Wait so you're telling me that...you're actually inlove with Kate...but you can't tell her that and because of that, you moaned her name while you were having sex with your girlfriend? Oh, that's bad, babe." You could see her face without having to see it. When you looked down at your phone, you were correct.

"I know, I know. It's super bad. I don't even know what's worse, the fact that I did that to Juliana, or the fact that she wasn't even mad about it." Recalling earliers incident, she didn't even overreact.

"Probably because she already knew. She just didn't want to see it until you did what you did. She just wanted to keep you while she had you. I get it. Happens to the best of us." Jada nodded her head and ate chips while she watched her show.

You guys ended up Facetiming halfway through the phone call so you could give proper recollection to the incident. Jada needed to see the facial expressions and everything to give her proper advice.

"Oh my god, Jada. Why do I have to feel this way for Kate?" You put your head in your hands and cried a little. You were emotionally overstimulated, the weight of your actions now weighing on you. You looked up, looking to the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, you looked down at Jada.

"Aw, you'll be okay, babe. I promise. We are all human, we all make mistakes. Don't beat yourself up about it, just learn from it. As far as telling Kate goes, I wouldn't tell her unless you were one hundred percent sure that what you're feeling is real. And when you're ready, sit her down, don't ambush her, but sit her down and talk about it."

"What if she thinks I'm literally crazy and so weird and she kicks me out?" You started to spiral.

"Hey, that's not gonna happen. She's a very understanding person and you know that. You've lived with her all these years for godsakes." Jada slapped her hand down on her bed, flipping her bowl of chips. "Oh my god!" She screamed. You laughed at loud, watching some fly across the screen.

The front door opened, a sluggish Kate walked through the door. She had been very tired recently; basketball and finishing school were growing to be very exhausting. She watched you laugh so hard that tears were falling down your face. A scream laugh, that grew quiet, a loud gasp following which she recognized as Jada's laugh through the phone speaker. She walked over and sat down on the couch next to you, resting her head on your shoulder to say hi to her other best friend. "Hi, Jada!" She smiled big into the camera, her sleepy and drowsy mood suddenly vanishing.

You put your hand on Kate's cheek, patting it softly. You looked at Jada through the screen. Your eyes stare into hers. She nodded softly, covering it with leaning down to grab the fallen chips. You knew she was right. Kate wouldn't give you a hard time but you couldn't help but panic.

You three stayed on the phone for a little while before Jada hung up so she could leave for practice. You placed the phone in Kate's room while you sat on her bed, so she could still talk to you both while they both got ready.

Kate was on her way out the door when you stopped her, hand on her arm, "Hey, can I talk to you when you get home? It's kinda important." You were so scared to tell her. But you had to rip the bandaid off right?

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you when I get home. I love you." She closed the door behind her. You stood there for a moment, staring at the door. You had three hours to prepare yourself for tonight. How the fuck were you going to tell her?

You drove yourself insane for the last 3 hours that you were alone in the house. You cleaned the kitchen, the living room, your room, mopped the kitchen, and vacuumed every surface that could be vaccummed in the house. You took a shower, and almost changed your pajamas twice.

You finally sat on the couch, watching whatever was on, literally fucking panicking. Kate had walked through the door thirty minutes ago, cleaning herself up.

"Okay, so what did you need to tell me? You okay?" She sat on the couch next to you, smiling softly to herself when she saw you were wearing one of her old hoodies. She hasn't seen in it in so long.

"What?" You looked at her, noticing smile on her face. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Just haven't seen that sweater of mine in a long time." She adjusted how she was sitting.

"Oh, I forgot I stole this from you a long time ago." You looked to her, instantly regretting it. She was manspreading and she looked so good. You could not look at her when you told her this.

"Okay, anyways. Back to what I needed to tell you. So, Juliana and I broke up." You paused. Her face pulled into a frown.

"Aw i'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Kate reached her arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You didn't fight it. Choosing to lean into her touch. You closed your eyes, gathering the sheer will to be able to tell her what the hell happened.

"I'm okay, Kate. I promise. But we broke up because we were hooking up in her car, and I know you said not to give you details, but it’s relevant because I moaned your name. While she was trying to fuck me.” You finally got it out, but it wasn’t helping that Kate’s face didn’t express any telling emotions.

You lifted your head from her shoulder, wincing slightly when she immediately moved a small distance on the couch. You needed her to say something but you’d get it if she didn’t. You couldn’t begin to understand the digestion of something like this.

“Oh, wow. That’s crazy.” Kate stared blankly at her slippers that she had been wearing. She was tugging on the strings of her hoodie.

“Yeah…” You were kinda let down at the reaction she had. You were expecting an immediate blow up at what you had just announced. Or some type of general reaction.

She wasn’t saying anything. You could see the gears turning in her pretty head, but nothing was coming out of her mouth. It made you more nervous than before you even told her. “Is that it? Kate?” You watched her blue eyes meet yours.

The shade of blue so pretty, and so relaxing. “What does that mean? Why?”

“Because I love you, Kate.” The sincerity in your voice hitting her like a truck. There’s no way you were finally saying these words to her. You finally said them but at the worst possible time.

“I love you, too.” She replied in the quickness. Almost instantaneous as you said them. She loved you, possibly with every bone in her body.

“No, like, romantically. Not platonically.” You clarified to make sure you heard her correctly. She sighed before speaking.

“I know, that’s why I said it back. But you know we can’t do anything about it, right?” That’s when it hit you. She wasn’t mad, she was just playing it smart. You nodded your head shortly, looking down at your hands.

“Okay, what does that mean for us, though. How exactly are we going to live together knowing there’s something here, and not do anything about it.” You thought about it, and it made sense. The final four tournament already coming. This year was crazy and passing by so fast.

They won the Big Ten tourney almost a month ago. The stress of the biggest tournament this season was coming up and a relationship, the additional stress and possible blow up of a relationship, was hard. Cultivating a new relationship at this time was stress Kate didn’t need. You couldn’t do that to her.

Kate prided herself on being level headed. That’s how she led her team so good, on and off the court. Her ability to take accountability and responsibility was unmatched, so she couldn’t understand why coming up with this resolution was so hard.

She knew it was wrong to start something she wanted to put her all in, at this moment, because she wanted to put her all into basketball. It was more important to her at this moment in time. She knew you’d understand.

“Tell me this again in a couple months, yeah?” Kate said, a small smile on her face. Trying to lighten the mood, she held her hand out.

You looked at her and then at her hand. You shook it. It was quiet for a beat, “And about the living situation, we just do it how we’ve been doing it all these years. Day by day.” Her hand that still remained in yours, pulled your body closer to hers.

This wasn’t the way you wanted to tell Kate that you were inlove with her, that you accidentally almost got off to the idea of her when your girlfriend was indeed not her, or the fact that you couldn’t start a relationship right away. But laying here, against her side, while you sat and watched whatever was on the tv to distract from the overwhelming expression of emotions was okay for now.

You knew you just needed to give it time. You two would come together. For now, you’d just have to wait. So you both sat there, counting down the days until you knew you could be together.

It was already the most insanely slow countdown of your lives.

[abiatackerman]

Rejection

Event: @levievent "Levi Month 24"

🍷 Day 25: Drunk/Drugged 🍷

Canon universe! Captain Levi Ackerman X Scout (unidentified rank) Reader! Comedy! Fluff! Slight curse words! 1.2K words!

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

"What does he think of himself? He may be the strongest soldier but he's nothing but an arrogant ass. A rude-boring-short arrogant ass! How dare he? He rejected me? Actually a shitty person like him didn't even deserve my confession in the first place!"

You hiss with anger as you gulp all the liquor of the glass with just a single sip. You harshly put the glass on the table and glare at the brunette who's sitting beside you.

"You're to blame too! 'I'm 99.9% sure Levi's crazy for you! Just go and tell your feelings I bet he'll then share his feelings too!' Well, fuck your assumptions, Hange. And fuck that midget! Look, where you've led me! I'm now humiliated, heartbroken, furious and drinking like a stupid bitch. All because of your assumptions!"

You scold Hange with a loud voice, a voice which is completely indicating that you're 100% drunk. You clumsily try to reach the bottle but Hange quickly moves that away from your reach.

"Listen girl, first of all I said I was 99.9% sure. There was a 0.1% chance that he'll reject you. Also he didn't actually reject you, he just told you not to be dramatic. He was doing paperwork when you went to confess and I guess he was actually shy to accept your proposal."

You glare at Hange and they smile nervously. Because she's feeling that you're furious and you probably want to throw something at her. Hange quickly checks if there's something in your reach or not.

"He literally told me 'Stop being dramatic and mind your own business, dumbass' when I just confessed to him? Pouring all my emotions, I expressed my emotions to him as clearly as I could and he did what? Told me to mind my own business? Called me a dumbass and started to sign some paperworks?! Well, he's right though I'm totally a fool. I shouldn't have proposed to him in the first place. And hey lemme drink!"

You try to reach out for the bottle which Hange is holding too high for you to reach.

"No girly, enough drink for tonight. You're totally wasted. More drinking will take you nowhere other than resulting in severe headaches. So let's not pain yourself anymore for an arrogant ass shorty."

Hange's words calm you down and you move away.

"Right, why was I drinking anyway? He doesn't deserve it! I should just try to forget about him. I'll go to sleep and starting tomorrow I'll make plans to make his world a living hell. I'll sneak out to his room and mess everything up, make his room filthy with everything I can."

You speak with a smile and Hange laughs.

"I'll surely help you. Like girl, damn... I'll definitely help you... Now let me walk you to your room. You're too drunk to move."

You nod at Hange's words and clumsily stand up. Hange wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you as you both start to walk towards the barracks.

But luckily or unluckily, the person you hate the most (right now, I mean) shows up. It seems like he was on the way of his barracks too. Your face turns red with anger and you curse immediately glaring at him like you want to kill him.

But it's Levi we're talking about! He just takes a look at you glaring and hissing at him and ignores it like it's nothing. He then just casually asks Hange with his usual calm voice.

"Are you carrying a wild kitten with you at this hour? It's almost midnight and you both should be sleeping, four eyes."

At his words you feel your face turns red with anger.

"Excuse me, what did you......"

Before you can finish your sentence Hange pushes you towards Levi and stumbling, you end up in Levi's arms. Cursing, Levi catches you instinctively, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"What the fuck, Hange?"

You both ask annoyedly at the same time. Hange just laughs.

"You're the reason why Y/N's this drunk so you're the one who's gonna babysitting her. Now take your girl to her room and apologize to her before she actually starts to hate you for real."

Hange says pointing their finger at Levi and you look at her glaring. You're still leaning on Levi though, and his arms are still wrapped around you.

"I'm gonna kill you, bitch. You're a betrayer! How can you do this to me?"

You ask furiously and Hange sighs, placing her hands on her waist.

"No sweetie, actually you'll be thanking me tomorrow. Now have fun lovebirds. Also Levi you can take advantage of her if you want. She's totally wasted."

You look at Hange with disbelief as you hear Levi taking a deep breath. He's probably trying to control his anger. Hange just laughs and walks off casually like they haven't just made two people wanting to kill them (Hange).

You look up at Levi's face from his neck as you hear him clicking his tongue. You can't help but realise how pretty he actually is.... You wish to kiss his sharp jawline so badly, bite and suck his neck and...

"Stop ogling, doll."

You blink as Levi's voice pulls you out of your fantasies. His voice is rather soft now and you furrow your eyebrows.

"What have you done to yourself? I thought you were sassy enough to brush off a rejection? Now what the hell is this? You're totally wasted!"

Levi softly scolds you and moves his hand down to pick you up but you slap his hand off.

"I can walk myself! And I didn't drink because you rejected me but because how stupid I was! You're right I was a dumbass for thinking you like me. You're the 'Humanity's strongest soldier' after all! I forgot that you're standards must be fucking high. You're fucking arrogant after all! My sweet confession was just a drama to you! After all why would you want a short girl like me when you have taller richer girls drooling over you?"

Your voice breaks and your eyes tears up as you try to break Levi's hug. Levi remains totally silent but his arms tighten around you.

"I'm sorry."

You pause as you hear the words. Did he just apologize?

"What?"

You ask looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"I never would have acted that way if I knew you would be this hurt. I was just so confused that I didn't know how to react."

Levi says softly and looks into your eyes. His gaze is soft and there's a genuine apologetic look in them.

"I'm sorry, doll. But I, I like you too, I'm just bad with words and expressing my emotions."

Your face softens and you nod.

"I know that! But you were still rude. I haven't forgiven you yet! For you I drank like a loser and I'm probably going to have a painful headache tomorrow."

You complain like a kid making Levi smile. This time you don't stop when he picks you up.

"Will you forgive me if I'm gonna take care of you tomorrow."

You wrap your arms around his neck as he speaks and smile against his chest.

"We'll see."

You mumble against his grey shirt, hiding your smile as Levi walks towards your room.

"I know you will. After all you're crazily in love with me."

"Shut up!"