#gods i wish painkillers actually fucking did something for me

[catastrophic-crow]

*insert an unhinged and deranged screaming rant about migraines and how they wreck my emotional regulation and pain tolerence*

[rianafying]

i’m having a really bad day emotionally. idk if it’s my period hormones or bpd but i’m just in a really sucky mood today. yesterday i recovered from one illness that i had since late jan. i’ve been desperately waiting to feel better and this morning i woke up with another kind of illness. and i’m doing my best to recover from this as well. and something triggered my abandonment response and im just having a really really hard time right now. and i can’t even freely talk about it to anyone or even write about it in my journal. i’m just. so sad right now. i’m not abandoned but i feel that way. i have been feeling abandoned for a while now and a small thing that happened last night really amped it up. then this morning i woke up with a crazy amount of physical pain and fever from said illness and im also severely dehydrated because i have been too upset to drink water so i’ve been forcing myself to drink lots of water all day. and had to take painkillers and sleep the fever off. all by myself. i hate being by myself. but it was worse when i was living with family back in bangladesh. somehow i felt even lonelier and more horrible there. lately i’ve had very little hope about myself and my future. i’m just going through a rough time mentally. so are my loved ones. i’m sobbing as i’m writing about this. this isn’t even bad. like it’s just my mental illness over reacting and my hormones possibly amplifying the negative emotions. but nothing terrible has actually happened it’s just that i wanted something and i can’t have it and even in my dreams, my desires plague me. it all sounds vague but that’s on purpose because i can’t openly talk about it. even when faced with much greater difficulty, i have handled things better but right now even though it’s not actually that bad, i feel exceptionally sad. i did my groceries. made the right decisions. i literally did my very fucking best today. and yet i feel nothing but awful awful awful. even some self hatred and self pity. i’m having a hard time trying to logic myself out of this one. maybe it just needs some time. the problem is that i don’t have all that much time to give. i have a class early tomorrow and it’s one of those classes that i really have to participate in and even though i normally look forward to this class, im dreading it right now. i dont have the energy to learn a whole bunch of things right now. and my friends invited me for drinks after classes, which is great but sucks because i literally have 5$ in my bank account to last me the whole week, and today was just monday. idk how this happened. actually i know exactly how this happened, i paid of my medical bills when i got paid this weekend. that’s why i have nothing left. but it’s a big relief. that i have paid off all my hospital debt. it’s a huge deal. and it’s done. now temporarily i’ll struggle a little but it’ll be okay soon. also it was just 11:11pm and i made a good wish. i’m going to try my best to bring it to fruition. rn im still a bit sick, and im not gonna beat myself up for having a bad couple of days. i know im doing my best. my best is not as good as other people’s but it’s mine. and i am choosing to go easy on myself. i’m feeling a fever coming back. the plan for the rest of the night is to maybe rest till my fever goes away. then watch the movies i downloaded w the library wifi, because guess what, i didn’t have money to get wifi this month. so i barely use my data and i try to download as much as i can at uni and at the library. it has been kind of good for me. to be off the internet mostly. this reminds me i should deactivate my instagram soon. idc if i loose my work flow. or maybe try to find balance between life offline and online. after i’m done resting and my fever subsides, ill boil some eggs and what not. i deserve to eat well. nvm im back to crying in my fetal position. oh god i feel so bad. i feel so bad right now. i can’t do anything about this. and the things that i can fix, i don’t. this is literally my life. crying about things i can’t control and ignoring the things i can control

this is the worst i have felt in 2024 so far. i’m so sad that it’s giving me a headache. i’m so disoriented and confused and tired and sad i don’t wanna do anything. i’m depressed as fuck. why does this happen to me. oh god i let a couple of hours pass, and i’m doing a little bit better. this is so stupid.

[rosetheex-editor]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with the camera facing a hole in a purple wall, dried blood surrounding it. As if someone had their head slammed through the wall, there is also a table off to the side. Multiple papers and video cassettes on it, the camera is shaky as the person holding it sighs.]

?: Ok Will… Waiting on you now.

[Voice identified: Rose.]

[There is distant footsteps, alongside the fainter clicking of metal on the tiled floor. Heavy breathing is picked up, getting closer to the microphone.]

R: That's either Will or someone about to kill me… Please god if you exist let it be Will.

?: Fuckin’ hell, this place is a mess!

[Voice identified: Will.]

R: Thank god it is you… Anyway um… Yeah, it uh… Is partly because of me.

[Rose turns around, the camera now facing Will.]

W: That's, understandable. It's so fucking great to see you again Rose. Really.

R: Yeah uh… Same, also.

[Rose's hand pops into frame, pointing at the ‘accessory’ on Will's face.]

R: Need help with that? At least a little bit?

W: Fucking hell, yes please. I've been meaning to go up to PR to get it off but..ya know.

R: I'll try and lockpick it, if that doesn't work… I'm sure Mai had painkillers somewhere?

W: That sounds ominous, but. Surely somewhere.

R: Fair point, but um yeah.

[Rose turns around again, now facing the table with the papers and cassettes. She snatches a paperclip off of one of the papers and walks back over to Will.]

R: Ok. Where’s the lock?

W: I haven't been able to see if there actually is one, but probably around the back?

R: Alright, I'll check.

[Rose walks over to the back of Will's head, A lock keeping the back of the metal muzzle in place. Rose looks at it for a moment, and begins trying to lockpick it.]

R: Ok stay still.

W: trying. Bit painful.

[After 2 minutes, it seemingly unlocks. But it remains stuck.]

R: Fuck- It’s stuck.

W: You're kidding. For fucks sake.

R: Wish I was. It's stuck.

W: Ah, well. Thank you anyways, Rose.

R: Yep, so now. What did you want to talk about?

W: I just, wanted to-

[Will stops halfway in his sentence, pausing, before just pulling Rose into a hug.]

R: WOAH- Hey Will! it's nice to see you, um… What did you wanna talk about?

W: I..wanted to talk about fuckin everything man. I'm sorry for before going odd at you, hell, I'm sorry you're back here!

R: You don't have to fucking apologize, it's not your fault.

W: Should've fucking done something to help though. How are you holding up?

R: Want the truth, or the answer that makes us both feel better?

W: Truth, Rose.

R: Um… Fucking hell, not great. It feels like I'm being ripped apart, I'm trying to help everyone. While taking care of Sparrow, and… Trying to help Ruby…

W:...you shouldn't. Try to take care of everyone. It destroys people, Rose. You don't deserve to have that stress on you.

R: I don't want to lose anyone else Will, I can't… I made a deal with her to try and not lose anyone for crying out loud

W: And that's why I'm not leaving yet. Not letting that asshole do anything, you hear? She isn't doing shit.

R: She’ll figure something out, I know she fucking will.

[Rose sighs, seemingly trying not to cry.]

R: You know… We could both just run through the window here? We could leave?

W:..only one of us deserves to leave, Rose. You don't have to worry about me, okay?.

R: You deserve to get out too, I don't give a shit what a stupid virus says. You deserve to get out.

[Will chuckles a bit at that.]

W: Bits of my brain are code. Hell, some of my bones are metal. Try getting me through any border checks or airports.

R: We could probably say the same about Sparrow with the code? Hell. I have a metal plate on my fucking head, try again. You deserve to get out.

W: You guys have a life ahead of you, people out there.

[Will does turn to the window, and just stares out.]

W: The wind felt nice. When I was out there.

R: William Keane. Quit trying to talk your way out, you deserve to live a life outside… None of us care that bits of your brain are code, or that some of your bones are metal. Hell… Ness still wants to meet you I bet.

W:..now apply those to yourself, Rose. Remember you too deserve a life outside, you deserve to be away from here. Alive.

[Will turns, with a melancholy smile on its face.]

R: Yeah… I just wish Ruby was there too.

W: I know. I promise you, I know. But, Ruby wouldn't want you in danger for her sake. You know this, you've tried Rose.

R: She spoke… I heard her speak Will.

W: Spoke.. Rose, look me in the eye please and tell me. What did she say. What did she actually say.

R: She said stop… A Lot…

W: her voice? Like, you're sure. And she said this when you were running away.

R: I'm almost positive.

W:...almost. what's causing the doubt. Is it a gut feeling?

R: Maybe… I don't know. I think?

W: I'm begging you, Rose. Listen to that feeling. I'm not here to try and stop you, but. Please. Just..please.

R: I have to try William… I need to know… She deserves to know I'm sorry…

W: She knows. She knew from the moment you tried to help her, from all those escapes, from you looking after Sparrow! She knew, Rose, and she will always know. You're a brilliant sibling, she loved you with all her heart, but..the body isn't hers anymore. And I think you know that.

R: William… Please… Please god… Stop…

W: For her sake, I can't let you do this. She loved you, Rose. And you loved her. But it's time. It's time to focus on the now, not the could have been. We can't stop time, or make it go back, but we can change what will be. She wants you to be safe, to look after Sparrow, to be with Ness! She was saying stop to you trying to find her Rose. Please. You know this.

[Rose throws something in the direction of a VHS player.]

R: SHE DOESN'T FUCKING DESERVE TO BE ALONE! SHE DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE TRAPPED HERE! SHE DOESN'T DESERVE TO HAVE A SISTER WHO COULDN'T EVEN TRY AND HELP HER TO BEGIN WITH!

W: you did try. You tried so fucking hard. But Rose, she isn't alone. The memory of you that she has..it's enough. I know you're upset, you're angry, they did this to her. But we can't stop what’s happened. The best I can offer is..Decommission..

R: No… No no no no no… I'M NOT FUCKING LETTING ANYONE HURT HER AGAIN!

W: Rose I wouldn't, you know i wouldnt. I just meant that I think that's the only way she can rest.

R: You and me made a fucking deal… Three weeks…

W: I'm staying with that deal. I don't break that shit. But it doesn't mean I can't speak to you about it. I..didn't come here to really talk you down from doing anything though. Just..think of the repercussions. Ness, Edgar, Katherine, Mari, Sparrow..me..

R: She won't kill me… I know she won't kill me…

W: You don't sound too sure, Rose. Please don't take the risk.

R: You sound like Sparrow right now. ‘Nothing is worth the risk’ and such.

W: The kid makes good points. Don't you think if so many people are saying this, then maybe you should heed the warning? Think of the last few times, Rose. I was right, every time.

[Heavy static over a TV followed by a woman's voice on the TV.]

?: This Thing On? Mic Check Mic Check One Two?

[Voice identified: TV Mai.]

R: What…

W: HOW. is someone else here?

R: No? Oh, when I threw that fucking pocket knife it must have hit the button…

M: What’s Up Dickheads, I Don't Actually Know Who's Watching This. But Hi!

W: She was a bitch

M: THIS! Is A Video Recording Of A Test On One, Ruby Henderson. Say Hi You Dumb Bitch!

R: What…

W: If she was still alive I would fucking kill her again.

M: I Said. Say HI

[Rose turns the camera to the TV, on the screen is Mai in her office. Behind her is a woman covered in bruises and blood. She struggles to speak.]

?: [Slowly.] F- Fuck… Y- you…

[Voice identified: TV Ruby Henderson.]

W: That's.. Holy shit… What..

M: Hey! That's Not Nice.

Ru: G- Go fuck… Y- Yourself.

R: I… I…

M: Do You Have Anything To Say? This Is Your Best Chance.

W: Rose. Rose breathe.

Ru: R- Rose… I h- hope to god you never see this… B- But if you do… I am… S- So sorry… S- So so fucking sorry… L- Live the l- Life I couldn't little sis… I L- love you… So fucking much… We'll a- Always be family…

R: I… I… I um…

W: Rose, i-im. I'm so sorry.

M: Ugh How Boring. Maybe I should Beat You Some More?

R: Shut up… Shut up…

M: Listen To Me Very Carefully Ruby. You'll Be Nothing More Than A Machine For Death. That's It. Have Fu-

[Before Mai can finish, Rose throws a broken shard of glass at the TV, It falls backwards. Cutting off the recording.]

R: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT! STUPID MOTHERFUCKING BITCH!

W: Rose, i-

R: IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR! GOD DAMNIT!

W: I know it isn't, I'm sorry.

R: I HATE THIS MALL I HATE SHOWFALL I HATE IT ALL!

W: …and they hate us.

[Rose walks to the table, grabbing a lighter.]

R: We could burn it all William… We could burn this fucking place to the ground.

W: And what about the people in here. Their families. Their siblings. Their friends. Put the lighter down, Rose.

R: WE CAN'T FUCKING SAVE EVERYONE WILLIAM! I COULDN'T STOP MY OWN SISTER FROM BEING TURNED INTO THAT THING!

W: Rose please, be-

R: STOP JUST STOP! WHAT GOING TO TELL ME HOW MY SISTER IS DEAD AGAIN?

[Rose grabs the table and throws it at a wall, breaking the table and leaving another dent in the wall. She falls to her knees.]

[William had flinched at the table, taking a step backwards, but now is on his knees next to his friend.]

W: I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

R: QUIT FUCKING APOLOGIZING PLEASE! IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! IT'S MY FAULT! ALL OF THIS IS MY FUCKING FAULT!

W: It isn't. It's fucking showfalls. And you know fucking what?

R: WHAT! WHAT! I KNOW WHAT!

W: We're fucking making them pay. Hetch challenged me to a fight. We're gonna make them regret ever fucking with you and your family.

R: We gonna jump em?

W: I'm gonna jump ‘em. You are gonna make sure You, Edgar, Mari and Sparrow make it out, more stuff on the outside to work with. You hear?

R: You're gonna get out too… I'm not making the same mistake twice.

W: I can technically leave whenever. My PR permit allows me too. I just haven't.

R: You know what I mean, I know you do.

W: I'll figure it out. The priority is getting you guys out, you can tell the others, get equipment, fucking tear showfall down from the roots.

R: Will. You are going to get out too. I swear to you.

W: Don't. Please. It's safer just. Going with the flow.

R: Last time I went with the flow on an escape, I left Ruby here.

W: …right. Okay. The others and you are a priority though, alright? I'm just. If we have enough space.

R: I mean, my list of priorities has you on it so. What's your point?

W: My point is, focus on yourself. And the others.

R: Again, last time I focused on myself getting out. I left Ruby here.

W: there's no convincing you, is there?

R: Na, anyway… Should we take these papers and shit? Might be useful.

W: Yeahh. Let's do it.

R: You should take the VHS tapes, on account of. I think PR is one of the only places with a working VHS player.

W: Pretty sure, yeah. Can always nick it for us?

R: True… Hm. Alright let's do this.

[Rose walks over and grabs her bag, before walking back over and grabbing multiple papers and VHS tapes.]

W: Want me to get anything?

R: Up to yo-

[Rose holds up two papers, The shaking of the camera makes the text blurry. But Rose seemingly starts crying.]

R: Take these two.

W: Are you okay?

R: Yeah. Fine.

W: Are you sure? You're-

R: I'M. FIN-

[Rose falls to the ground and begins sobbing, the sound of crying filling the microphone.]

W: Oh, gods. I'm here, okay? You can talk about it.

R: [Sobbing.] There mine a- And Sparrow's f- Files… L- Like the one for… R- Retrieval…

W: Shit.. I can take those for you, yeah? I don't have to, but. If you want me too, I can.

R: Please…?

W: Of course, just breathe with me, Yeah? In for 4, hold for 6, out for 5.

[Rose starts taking deep breaths as asked, this lasts for a few minutes before stopping.]

W: You're doing great Rose, you're doing brilliantly. Do you want a hug?

R: Yeah… A hug would be nice…

[William leans in, and pulls the other into a hug.]

R: Thanks…

W: Anytime dude. If you want..I could ask Mari if you can stay at the hideout with us all for a bit? Sparrow's already there?

R: Na it's ok… I um… Saw the transcript that you guys are low on food.

W: I've got some in the bag! Honestly, it's just the matter of stealing it.

R: Fair enough… I think I'll come over tomorrow, honestly I'm kinda tired.

W: that's, fair. You want me to walk you back to your hideout, or you good?

R: I'm good… I promise…

W: Okay. That's good. Stay safe Rose, please.

R: I wil-

[Rose grabs her phone and looks at it for 5 seconds, before throwing it at a wall ending the transcript.]

[End transcript]

[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Non-Fiction, Adult, True-Crime

Rating: 5 out of 5

Content Warning: Drug abuse, Addiction, Drug use, Suicide, Death, Antisemitism

Summary:

The highly anticipated portrait of three generations of the Sackler family, by the prize-winning, bestselling author of Say Nothing.

The Sackler name adorns the walls of many storied institutions: Harvard, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Oxford, the Louvre. They are one of the richest families in the world, known for their lavish donations to the arts and sciences. The source of the family fortune was vague, however, until it emerged that the Sacklers were responsible for making and marketing OxyContin, a blockbuster painkiller that was a catalyst for the opioid crisis.

Empire of Pain is a masterpiece of narrative reporting and writing, exhaustively documented and ferociously compelling.

*Opinions*

As I always start when I am reviewing a non-fiction book, I can’t really talk about the topic that the author is covering because I haven’t spent years of my life researching it like they have. Also, non-fiction books, just like documentaries, provide the reader with facts, but that doesn’t mean those facts aren’t presented in a way to make people lean toward the same viewpoint as the author. All that being said, Patrick Radden Keefe did not have to do much to convince me that I hate all these people and wish them ill. In fact, if you have been following my updates it will be no surprise that the Tiktok sound of “why don’t we just kill these fucking people” played in my head a couple of times.

Empire of Pain chronicles three generations of the Sackler family and their rise from three brothers with MDs to billionaires who produced and peddled Oxycontin until the evidence against them was far too damning to continue. I vaguely remember this trail in the news cycle during 2020, but I also was attempting to avoid all news possible as someone who worked in a hospital, so I didn’t follow it with much interest. More rich people getting a slap on the wrist for doing something unimaginable, that really isn’t anything new. In fact, the actual business aspect of this novel was the least interesting for me. I am American, I am well aware that the country is five corporations and the NRA in a trench coat, so all the sleazy business practices were a given, though Keefe presented them in an easy to digest light. That didn’t mean that when I read about them paying the FDA, physicians, and lobbied in Washington to keep their names and the serious risks of the drugs away from the public didn’t surprise me. It’s a given that money talks, but it especially does in America. What I didn’t expect was how much I would hate the actual members of the family, especially the original three brothers. 

While the Arthur Sackler branch of the family attempted to distance themselves from the Mortimer and Raymond branch when the bad press and their immoral dealings came to light, I found him probably the most detestable of the family. While Richard was horrible in his own right, he was born wealthy and so I almost expected him to think that he was God's gift to the world and refuse to take responsibility for what he believed was his gift to the world, oxycontin. Arthur, and his brothers, came from humble beginnings and lived through the Depression, which makes his absolute narcissism more shocking to me. I would figure that men who grew up around all that misery, they would have some compassion, but money is the best corrupter that has been invented. Arthur collected art and wives as if that was his profession, which was surprising given all the other professions the man had. It was comical that he thought that advertising to physicians was fine because they ‘wouldn’t be swayed by an ad’. He set up the framework that Purdue Pharma used to push Oxycontin across the United States and world, but he also got a whole generation of people taking tranquilizers with the same tactics. The audacity of the man was truly on another level and the fact that these men needed to put their names on ALL their Philanthropic efforts was slightly embarrassing. True, with the Carnegies, Rockefellers, etc, it was the same, but guess what it was embarrassing for them as well. Mortimer was what you would expect from someone who came into a lot of money, traveling the world and buying houses everywhere. Raymond was the only one who seemed able to be somewhat normal and have a single wife, well as normal as someone who is evil and owns an evil corporation could be anyway. Then again, Richard is his child, so I guess he couldn’t have been that normal. 

The writing of this book was very accessible and wanted to keep me reading, even through the anger and frustration. I had read Say Nothing by Keefe, which had the same readable quality, and that book was part of the reason I picked this one up. I really didn’t have much of an interest in the Sacklers or the opioid epidemic, aside from how I encountered it at my job, but I had heard good things and I couldn’t put Say Nothing down, so I bought this. I am so glad that I did because even though this infuriated me, Keefe made sure that the voices of ‘normal’ people, individuals who attempted to raise concerns, people who became addicted, and those who advocated against the Sacklers were also heard. Nan Goldin had me internally cheering as she staged demonstrations at art galleries to pull the Sacklers out of obscurity and into the light of how they had gotten their billions of dollars. While it is frustrating that none of these people who lied, knew the risks, and still pushed their drugs will ever see jail, I am glad that the name that they were so insistent on being placed on everything had been removed again and again. May their deaths be painful and let them all die in obscurity. 

Was this review anything except me screaming about these people? Not really. So,.let me try again. I think this is a fascinating read that pulls the curtain back not only on how one company led to an epidemic that we are still attempting to crawl out from underneath, but the family that tried so hard to hide in the shadows while it all happened. As Keefe states, they are hardly the only evil corporation or the only one selling opioids, but in regards to opioids, they were the first, the most aggressive, and if they weren’t the most irresponsible I would be shocked to learn who was. Keefe gives a look at the American legal system and what a joke that is if you have enough money, the few stalwart individuals who tried to do the right thing, and that at the end of the day you might not be able to take their money or reputation. If you don’t usually read non-fiction, I don’t think it is the first one I would point you to, but it was an engaging and fascinating read. 5 stars. 

[onrainynights]

journal entry. June 26th 2023. this is what I'm glad to leave behind this year. (cw self harm and suicidal ideation)

I've been having a hard time over the past few weeks. despite having down time on the weekends, I find myself feeling similarly to back in middle and high school—dreading the next morning, pretending it's not going to happen, etc. On Friday I had a really bad meltdown at work and hurt myself. it was really dark. I thought I broke my hand. I found myself in a state of thinking the pain was good, that I needed it to stay composed, and would hit my hand hard again whenever I felt the pain—and my composure—fading. at one point I thought that if I'd had a knife, I would've stabbed myself with it.

mom didn't seem to care. she blamed me for it. it just made me feel worse. I needed this weekend to emotionally reset, and physically heal a bit, but now I just feel raw and horrible and like I'm back in 8th grade. a month ago I almost looked forward to work each day. now it's a nightmare. nobody prepared me for what it would become and now they're blaming me for being blindsided by it. part of me wants to just keep going out of spite, but another part doesn't know how I'm gonna eat lunch at his house every day and pretend like nothing is wrong. I think I'll take my lunch in the shop, at least for a little while. I don't think it's wise for me to force myself into social situations if it's not necessary. I'll need the time away from people to calm down.

I finally see the appeal of self-harm. it scares the shit out of me but it also made me feel so much better. the physical pain was like an emotional painkiller. not sure how that works, but it did.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to listen to music and podcasts tomorrow like nothing is wrong. what if roger wants to train me tomorrow. fuck. I don't wanna talk to him. I think I'd stutter if I tried.

I wish people didn't have to know me. I wanna be a stranger to everyone, always. I never wanna meet new people ever again. god. I was happy. I was so happy but it never lasts and now I'm worse than I've been in a while. I hate when I get back to this place. I wish people understood me. I wish I had something concrete I could point to as a reason why. but I don't. wish I could just break both my legs and be bedridden for months. I need therapy. but I don't have health insurance and I definitely can't afford to pay for therapy out of pocket. let alone actually get to appointments. teletherapy is still a hard no. can't risk anyone overhearing. I'd talk about her eventually and someone would hear and my life would blow up and that's the worst-case scenario. worse than a brain tumor and 6 months to live.

at least it'll be over soon. the work stress I mean. at soonest, early August will calm things down. at the latest, the job ends in October or November. at least come 2024 I'll know I'm never coming back to this hellhole. I'd rather go back to retail for less pay than have a repeat of the last week. and I don't know if worse is yet to come

maybe I'm being a bit superstitious but I don't think I'll ever say "I will" again when someone tells me to have a good day. it just seemed to backfire.

can't end the day disappointed if you don't start it with expectations of anything

The day is the day, can't be bad or good or nothing. It just is.

I wanna sleep for a year. I wanna not die but not live through what's coming for me. I feel like I did so long ago and I hate it. I hate this. Someone give me some god damn antidepressants or something. Everyone in this fucking family is medicated and therapized except for me, why am I the exception? why do I have to fend for myself when nobody ever taught me how? I think id be more stable if I was homeless. at least then I'd know never to expect anything good

And there it is again, the urge to run away. seems like the happy medium until I remember my family would worry and I'd have to get rid of my phone, and I'd have shit food, and who would take care of Henry if I was gone? nobody. and I couldn't take him with me.

I'd miss him and Bella to much

They're the reasons why I haven't done it yet

I think I'd have killed myself if not for that cat or that girl. he'd die without me, and my heart breaks at the thought of never seeing her grow up, of her never really knowing me. wouldn't even have a memory.

but how am I supposed to endure this? just the thought of going back makes me want to destroy myself. makes me want to be invisible again. I was invisible once. nobody knew or cared who I was or what I thought or what I could do. I was one of hundreds, unimportant, like a little ant in a whole colony. and here I am now just holding on to these routines I've built myself, tracks for my trolley to run on, grooves carved carefully and deliberately over time until they're so deep I can't climb out of them unless pulled out by something external—and when a vulture grips my shoulders and tumbles me out I can do nothing but watch and lash out but there's no one to hurt but myself, the vulture is gone, and I am broken by my own hand. I look ahead to my grooves and they've been destroyed, washed away by my tears, and I am starting over because I have no other choice. but my grooves are gone and so I don't know where to go or what to do. how did I make those grooves in the first place? what did I use? I used this shovel, I think, but I can't find it now. the vulture took it. I am back on flat ground where I began and I am lost. the vulture wants me to follow him, to fly, but I can't make new grooves in the sky. I need grooves. I need grooves. trolleys aren't supposed to fly. they'd crash and break and take people down with them. I'm not afraid. I just know better. I walk in a direction, I don't think it's the same one as before. I don't recognize that tree. but I keep walking until I'm back where I started. and then I keep going, tracing over my own footprints. and again. and again. and again and again and again again again again again and I walk in the grooves and I push my trolley with everything I need and everyone I love and it's ok, finally okay.

and then I remember the vulture.

[blackbat05]

Period Shenanigans

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: Lol so my period came one week earlier than what my period tracker stated? But thank goodness I’m at home and I don’t have any schedules because I would be dead. I try not to arrange anything if I can help it especially on my first few days. What I write is what I experience and what helps me during my period but disclaimer, it may not work for everyone! Hope you liked this impromptu idea that came out of my head. I’m finally done with 10 weeks of placement! Just a little more~ Like and comment if you wish! 

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: Shangqi not being like most men and being so caring? Blood (but come on if you can see blood on action movies why not this?) and a whole load of fluff I guess? Oh an one explicit word too haha 

The two of you come back from your morning runs as usual. Shower and breakfast was next. But after thirty minutes you didn’t come out of your room.

Shangqi decides to make a visit to make sure that nothing happened to you. ‘Y/N?’ He knocks on your door first. ‘You ok?’ He pressed his ear against the door, straining his ears. All he heard was a few unintelligible muffles. ‘I’m coming in ok?’

He made sure that he received your acknowledgement before slowly opening the door. There you were, crawled up on your bed, a hot pack on your tummy.

‘Fuck…’ you groaned as you tried to find the best position. Couldn’t you just live like a normal human being during this time of the month? Evidently god had other plans.

Let’s face it, at this moment you would have been embarrassed for Shangqi to see you in this state. But first, you were too tired to even care. Second, Shangqi was best friends with Katy before he met you. Surely he had seen enough.

He knows the protocol at the back of his head. Giving you a few reassuring taps on the shoulder, he leaves your room to prepare the essentials.

Tea, painkillers, sliced bananas and your favorite chocolate biscuits. Oh, don’t forget your humongous stuffed penguin that laid at the corner of your room but you were unable to get because of the pain that had nearly paralyzed you.

‘And the portable phone charger because I know you’ll be watching Running Man non stop,’ he passes you the object in question. ‘Be careful not to burst you appendix while laughing ok?’

You punched his shoulder lightly as a form of thanks. ‘What the hell would I do without you Shangqi,’ you adjusted your position to achieve maximum comfort on the bed. ‘Come on, watch with me,’ gesturing for him to sit next to you.

For the next 3 hours or so, you spend a good time with Shangqi laughing at the antics that the show provided. It was a good way to ignore the pain that was slowly going away by the minute.

Having your period meant that you were more tired than usual. After sipping the last bit of tea, you eyes felt heavier by the minute, eventually nodding off on Shangqi’s shoulder.

He slowly cradles your head, bringing it down on the pillow. Making sure that the blanket covered you, he cleaned the remaining stuff before leaving your room.

Sleep definitely helped. You woke up about an hour later to the unmistakable smell of macaroni soup boiling. Still in Shangqi’s oversized hoodie, you carried the stuffed penguin out like a little kid, making your way towards the kitchen.

There he was, donning an apron that said ‘World’s Best Cook’.

‘That’s kind of an exaggeration don’t you think?’ You teased, causing him to turn around. ‘Well, I must have woke you up because of this wonderful smell,’ he jokes back, taking a sip of the soup to test its taste. Satisfied, he closes back the lid to let it boil a bit more.

You appreciated what he did for you whenever your first few days of Niagara Falls proved to be physically taxing on you. But you just had one question…

‘When did you learn to cook Macaroni soup?’

‘Uh well,’ he sheepishly scratches the back of his head. ‘I called your mom earlier while you were asleep. She was kind enough to give me a idiot proof recipe for a cooking newbie like me.’

Appreciated? Scratch that out. You were stunned that he actually went to such lengths to make you feel better. You remembered when you were younger, your mother would cook you a bowl of warm macaroni soup. The chicken broth was light and easy on the stomach but still very filling.

Shangqi notices that you’re just standing there, not saying a word. He worries that maybe he went too far. Should he apologize? Should he just tell you that he wanted to help? Should he-

You come forward to hug him. ‘Thank you Shangqi. I’m probably saying this too many times for my own good but this means a lot to me.’

Wanda and Vision just came back from their Sunday grocery shopping. As Vision was about to walk through the walls to get through the kitchen, Wanda stops him.

‘What is it dear?’

‘I think we can wait. We don’t have any cold things to put in the fridge right?’ Vision shakes his head as he followed her looking very puzzled.

Wanda could see you and Shangqi at the kitchen counter. He was standing across you, eagerly watching you take the first sip, as if waiting for a stamp of approval. Your genuine reaction brings a huge smile to his face as he starts telling you his adventures in the kitchen, you laughing at his exaggerated account multiple times.

The two of you were basically in your own world.

Wanda was like a big sister to you since you came here from Madripoor. She felt herself constantly needing to protect you as despite your abilities, your kind heart served as a danger out in the field.

But ever since you knew the Martial Arts master, Wanda felt like she did not have to worry anymore. She knew that you were surrounded by good friends who would have your back out on the field and for this instance - when you weren’t feeling your best.

She quickly makes her leave before you spot her.

But Shangqi did as he was facing the door. He sees the sorceress put a finger to her lips. So he naturally goes back to the conversation with you.

While you finish the last bit of soup, Shangqi takes a quick peek at the entrance again. Wanda was still there but this time it looked like she had something to say to him. She must have used her abilities as his brain suddenly felt strange.

‘Thank you Shangqi for being with her.’

A/N: Yo this was supposed to be a period headcanon? Or is it just my hormones speaking that makes me unusually emotional. Anyways, hope you enjoyed another Shangqi headcanon again!😂 You have my period to thank for that.

Also can I just say I think my standards have changed? Like if a guy’s really considerate to me on my period like hell I think that’s just really neat in my books because unfortunately I haven’t come across any in real life🥲

[honeyhenry]

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie​ is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours” 

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement. 

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.” 

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him. 

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit. 

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs  to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-” 

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

taglist: @ohmygoodie​ @michelehansel​ @la-cey​ @palaiasaurus64​ @sassy-pelican​ @brandycranby​

Masterlist

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[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 16

Request: Yes or No

This first half is for you anon! Excuse my inability to write drunk characters lmao

~

"What the hell are you doing?" You blinked, looking up at Tony. You stumbled back slightly, gaze flickering around the room.

"Uhm.." A small snort left you, holding onto the counter and raising the bottle of whiskey.

"This?" You answered, head tilting as you smiled widely. Tony raised his brows, eyeing you with a disapproving gaze.

"So what? You drink now?"

"Clint would know if I- Oh, fuck." You caught yourself before you could fall, a small laugh leaving you. "If I touched his beers."

"Barton's drinking too? What a great influence you have, kid." Tony frowned, shaking his head.

"This isn't my first time." You muttered, huffing softly as your eyes narrowed. Tony raised a brow, taking in a deep breath.

"Could've fooled me."

"Sam was pretty sneaky." You giggled softly, putting the bottle down before you could drop it. You didn't notice the way Tony flinched when you put it down a little too hard.

"Drinking isn't the answer to what you're feeling." Tony called, taking a step towards you. You scowled, shaking your head.

"You're a stupidly lucky bastard, Stark." You muttered, taking a step forward. Your hands quickly caught the island, ice covering the area you touched.

"Okay, kid, let's get you to bed before you set this place on fire." Tony said, reaching out towards you. You scoffed, smacking his hands away.

"Don't touch me, asshole." You snapped, hands heating up and turning the ice to water. Tony didn't want you to have an outburst and make a sinkhole swallow the facility.

"It's been two years. Two years since everyone just.. Poof! Gone! What did you lose, huh? A kid you barely knew? Your pride?" You raised your brows, staring at him. His face was fuzzy and the room was slightly spinning.

"What did you lose? Your parents were already dead, your bestie is alive, your wife is alive, you're expecting a kid! You lost nothing." You sneered, glaring at him with glossy eyes.

"Everyone I love is gone but you get to start a new life with Ms. Pans or whatever her fucking name is. You get to have a family while I have to live without mine.. Clint.. Clint doesn't even come home half the time!" Your brows lowered, body trembling as you tried fighting back tears.

"I think we should talk about something." Tony said softly. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and licking your lips.

"Yeah? What? Gonna tell me I'm immature again?" You asked, letting out a small fake laugh. You looked away from him when tears began to slip down your cheeks.

"Why do I keep losing everyone?" You sobbed, taking in short breaths. Tony's gaze softened, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"It's not your fault, (Y/N)." He said softly, frowning. Tony had never seen you vulnerable. You were usually snappy and feisty with him.

"I d-didn't try hard enough." You breathed out, a quiet whimper escaping you.

"All of us could've tried harder. All of us wish we did. Don't you think Thor feels the way way you do? He's just angry instead of sad. No clue where he flew off but.." Tony sighed, eyes shutting as he thought of things to say that wouldn't piss you off. You turned and stared at him for a moment before reaching out and grabbing the back of his head, leaning forward. Your lips met his though your mind didn't process that you were kissing a married man with a baby on the way. You pulled away from the stunned billionaire, patting his chest.

"You suck." You whispered, eyes becoming droopy before you collapsed. Tony quickly caught you before you could hit the ground, clearing his throat.

"Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y? Could you contact Rhodey? I need some assistance." Tony dragged your body towards one of the couches nearby, laying you on your side in case you had to vomit. Tony stared down at you, taking in your flushed, tear stained cheeks. He raised a hand to his lips, gently touching them. He shook his head, looking down at his ring with a heavy sigh.

"What's up, Tony?" Rhodes asked, gaze immediately dropping onto you.

"Could I charge him for underage drinking?" Tony asked, looking at him. Rhodes shook his head, chuckling.

"He turned 23 last month. Sent him a birthday card and a small cactus plant." Rhodes told him, approaching the couch.

"How come I'm never told of his birthdays?"

"Cause he doesn't like you." Rhodes answered simply, grabbing your legs as Tony hooked his arms under your armpits. They got you to your old bedroom in the facility, thought it took them a while. Tony propped up a pillow under your head, placing a trash can beside the bed.

"What would a kid like him want on their birthday?" Tony asked, looking at Rhodes as he put his hands on his hips.

"His boyfriend back." Rhodes muttered. Tony blinked, turning his head to look at him with wide eyes.

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, Barnes. I found out when we went to Wakanda. They were all over each other. Never thought he'd have a thing for older guys but.. I gotta admit, Barnes is an attractive dude." Rhodes shrugged, gently bringing the covere up over your shoulders. He gently rubbed your shoulder, sighing.

"He's a good kid. I guess I gotta lock up whenever he comes over. I'm surprised he even still bothers being here. Thor's nowhere to be found, you're barely even here.. God knows where Clint is. He hasn't visited yet."

"I'm gonna retire." Tony announced, looking at Rhodes. Rhodes raised his brows, looking at him.

"I wanna give Morgan a good life. One where she sees her father every day." Tony explained. They both turned to you when they heard you groan and gag, throwing up into the trash can and almost falling off the bed.

"I'll go get him a water bottle and painkillers." Rhodes mumbled, turning around and leaving the room. Tony nodded, licking his lipd and sighing softly.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" You asked in hoarse voice, slowly getting up. You sluggishly walked towards the bathroom, washing your mouth.

"I wouldn't bother. You're probably gonna throw up-" Tony cringed, hearing you throw the toilet seat up and vomit again. Rhodes entered the room, placing the pill bottle down and glancing into the bathroom.

"Should I contact Clint?" Rhodes asked, looking at Tony.

"He can come here when he realizes his son isn't home." Tony replied, glancing at Rhodes before turning around and leaving the room. Rhodes nodded, walking towards the bathroom and placing a hand on the doorway.

"Need help?" He asked, head tilting. You shook your head, grabbing toilet paper and using it to blow your nose. Rhodes hummed, leaving the room as well. You pushed yourself off the floor, walking to the sink and washing your mouth again. Your throat burned and you could taste what you had for dinner. With a heavy sigh, you approached the bed, collapsing onto it. Your arms wrapped around one of the pillows, nuzzling into it. You turned your head when someone entered the room.

"Read this when you have a clear head." Tony said quietly, placing a file on the nightstand. You furrowed your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. You were tempted to look at the file but your body desperately needed sleep.

The next morning, you woke up with a raging headache. Your mind and body were still tired but you weren't sure if what you needed was sleep or actual therapy. You noticed the trash can you had thrown up in was gone as you pulled your legs over the edge of the bed. The yellow file caught your eye again. You sighed, deciding to use the bathroom before anything else. You picked up the pill bottle, taking two tablets and pushing them down with some water. You licked your lips, putting the water bottle down and taking a seat on the bed. You picked up the file, placing it on your lap. You stared at the writing on the front in sharpie.

(Y/N) BARTON

"Is this.. My file?" You blinked, flipping it open and seeing your picture in the top right corner followed by your information.

"Why would I need this?" You flipped to the next page, seeing a picture of an unknown woman.

Florine De Meyers (Could be a false name) is believed to be (Y/N) Bartons' aunt from his fathers side.

Your mouth went dry as you reread the sentence over and over again. After almost six to seven years with the Avengers, you had never been told about your family. It was always your parents being unknown yet here was a piece of information stating you had a relative. You closed the file, standing up and leaving the room. You made your way to Tonys' office, tossing the file on his desk. Tony looked up from the box in his hands, glancing between you and the file.

"What the hell is this?" You questioned, arms crossing. Tony carefully placed the box down, clearing his throat.

"Your file."

"Yeah, I know that, dipshit." You sneered, earning a pointed look from him. Tony sighed, picking the file up and going to the second page.

"You-"

"Shut up and sit down." Tony ordered. You glared at him, sitting down on one of the chairs.

"Florine De Meyers is a 47 year old woman from Lasne, Belgium. It's unknown if Florine De Meyers is her real name since not much is known about her. It's stated that she had a brother but no information came up about him. We, well more like F.R.I.D.A.Y, went through your blood test and searched for any relatives. She's the closest living relative you have." Tony said, putting the file down. Your leg bounced as you tried to stay calm, taking in soft deep breaths.

"So, all this time I could've been learning about my family? Why didn't you tell me sooner?! She might've been snapped away too!"

"Quite frankly, you seemed happy with Barton and his family. Plus, I forgot about it while trying to save the world a few times." Tony answered, picking up trophies and medals, putting them in the box.

"Does Clint know?" You asked softly.

"Nope. Romanoff doesn't know, Banner doesn't know, Thor doesn't know, Rogers... Well, as far as I know, he's unaware but he very well could." Tony shrugged, closed the box and taping it.

"She lives in Belgium?"

"That's what I said. Though, you might not be from Belgium. We think she's your fathers half sister. So, your father and her share a parent. It's why we had some difficulty finding anyone. Your parents made sure nobody could make any connections. Whether it was protect you or to protect themselves, we'll never know. Florine might know though. F.R.I.D.A.Y, what's the most recent security footage of Florine De Meyers?"

"Florine De Meyers was seen in a supermarket last thursday." F.R.I.D.A.Y answered, making a picture of a security footage appear. You stared at the picture, sighing softly.

"Where's Nat?" You asked.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y?"

"Contacting Agent Romanoff." You stood up, pulling the file towards yourself and looking down at the picture as Tony spoke with Natasha. Florine seemed to have a permanet frown on her face, eyes hard and icy.

"Romanoff is on her way. She can accompany you to Lanse." Tony said, watching you with a small frown.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." You looked up at him in surprise. Tony was never one for apologies.

"I thought that if.. Your parents wanted to desperately protect you, I should respect their wishes and do the same. You're a big boy now. It's up to you to decide what you want to do now." Tony said, placing the box down and looking at you with a gentle gaze. You swallowed, nodding as you rubbed your arm.

"Uhm... I'm sorry for being a dick and insulting you." You apologized as well, choosing to ease the tension between you and Tony.

"What's up?" You turned to look at Natasha, picking up the file and closing it.

"I need a ride to Belgium."

[quickspinner]

Oops - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Summary: A little too much alcohol, a drunken hookup, it happens all the time, right? Marinette didn't mean to drink so much, and she didn't mean to wake up in a stranger's bed, but she did, and now this morning isn't going at all the way she expected. When Luka asks to see her again, she can't think of a good reason to say no...and the one night she never meant to have turns out to be the beginning of something she never could have anticipated.

Alya thinks its hysterical--only Marinette could take home a one night stand and end up with a date. But when the one night stand turns into a series of hookups, Alya's starting to get concerned. Clearly it's up to her to rein Marinette in before the girl gets seriously hurt.

Rating: M - this is a little spicier than my usual fare but not really explicit? There’s a lot of off screen sex and reference to sexy things and adult activities, some drinking (obviously), cursing/foul language. 

Credit to my tumblr followers for this one, because one day I went "hey, you guys want to see some bits from the folder of fics I'm never going to finish?" and one of the bits I posted was the beginning of this story, and people liked it more than I was expecting, and then it was "well, you know, I did think about doing blahblah" and "I'd sure love to see that!" and the next thing you know I've added five thousand words with no sign of stopping. In Marinette’s words: Oops. So, with much love to my followers and readers across platforms, here's the fic I never intended to finish, and I hope you enjoy it!

I'm splitting it into two chapters but they'll both be uploaded within a few minutes, so if you finish the first part and the second one isn't posted yet, just wait a little and try back. Also, much love to @livrever for talking me down off the ledge and beta reading this one. 

Marinette woke up with a mouth that felt like cotton and a pounding headache. She groaned, and pressed her face into the pillow. It...smelled funny. Not bad, just...not like home. 

Oh. Because she hadn’t gone home last night. At least, not to her home. 

“Are you shitting me right now?” 

Marinette jumped, and sat up, clutching the sheets to her still-naked body. Her head reeled and she whimpered as she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. The door to the bedroom was cracked and she could see a sliver of light beyond it that blinked in and out. It seemed her...friend, was pacing in the other room, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t very happy. 

“—crosses a line, Jean. What? No, that’s not the point, Jean, you got me hammered without my consent! How can you not see the problem here? No, you know what, my head is killing me and I’m sick of yelling at you, obviously this can’t be fixed. As of right now, we are no longer friends. Don’t call me, don’t talk to me, if you see me coming just walk the other way. I’m done with you.”

There was a thump and a sigh and an emphatic “Fuck.”  

Marinette just sat there, holding the sheet over her chest, and blinked, trying to figure out what she should do and think through the fog in her brain. She didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in these situations. Was she supposed to just…

Before she could form any ideas, he came in with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He had a pair of tattered but well-fitting jeans on with patterned boxers peeking out from the waistband, but no shirt, and there was a lot of muscle and bare skin on display and oh God he had sex hair, and it was her hands that had done it. Marinette swallowed and twisted her fingers tighter in the sheets, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Hi,” he said gently. “I’m Luka, in case you don’t remember. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling? I mean, hung over, obviously, but on a scale of just let me die to I might conceivably want to live to tomorrow …” He gave her a smile that perhaps wasn’t entirely confident, and Marinette couldn’t help a small smile back. 

“I think I’m not quite up to dancing to the metal band playing in my head, but pretty far from oh God where’s the bathroom, so I’ll take it, all things considered.” She took the glass of water he offered and he opened the aspirin bottle and shook a couple out into her palm. That was sweet, she thought. At least he wasn’t just tossing her clothes at her and kicking her out. How could she have let herself end up in a position like this?

Luka sat on the edge of the bed and watched her take the pills. “Man, you’re really gorgeous. I thought at least some of it would be the booze, but—“ He looked away, clearing his throat. “Lucky me.”

Marinette’s face burned. “Thanks,” she said softly, not sure what else to say. At least he was nice, she thought. At least she hadn’t slept with a jerk. And he’d certainly been...considerate. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed herself, just...

“How much do you remember about last night?” he asked. His voice was rough, but he kept it soft. “I’m sorry for asking but I was way more drunk last night than I ever let myself get and I don’t think I blacked out but some things are...spotty.”

“Most of it, I think,” Marinette flashed him an embarrassed smile. “The good parts for sure. The details and...transitions, I guess, are a little hazy. I don’t remember how we got here from the club, for example.”

“But you remember being here, with me.” His eyes fell to her neck and shoulders and he winced. “Man I really marked you up, I’m sorry. I hope that’s not going to get you in trouble.” His eyes widened slightly. “Please tell me you aren’t married.”

“No,” she yelped. “No, I’m not married. Totally single.” She put her face in her hand. “Absolutely, devastatingly, recently single.” 

Luka let out a sigh of relief and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Bad breakup?”

She sighed. “Very. Bad breakup, bad best friend applying bad breakup logic that lands me my very first one night stand. Yay me.”

“Um, I’m honored?” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Although, I mean...it doesn’t have to be. Just the one night, I mean. Not that—” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Even as drunk as I was, I know I had a lot of fun last night.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “And even before I got too drunk to function I wanted to get your number.” He rolled his eyes. “Apparently one of my so-called friends decided I needed a little extra liquid courage.” 

“I wish I had an excuse,” Marinette muttered, shoulders curling inward. “I just...didn’t want to be sad anymore.” She frowned as what he’d said and the conversation she’d overheard connected in her brain. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m pissed off,” Luka huffed, and then smiled again. “But I’m fine. I didn’t do— much I wouldn’t have done anyway. Just, not necessarily in that order, or that soon. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m...not sure,” Marinette sighed, adjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her chest. “I don’t know how I feel. I definitely did some things I wouldn’t have done sober. You, specifically,” she joked weakly. “Not that you aren’t—not that I didn’t—“

“I get it,” he chuckled. 

“But...I’m on birth control, and…” she turned and craned her neck to look at the spilled box and empty wrappers on the nightstand. “We used protection, and…” she looked at Luka, worrying her lip. 

“I’m clean,” he supplied.

“Me too,” she whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’re hot and you seem nice and it’s not like it didn’t feel good, and I definitely wasn’t sad for a while, so…” She shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed but...I think I’m okay too.”

“Well, no need to be embarrassed with me,” Luka grinned. “I’m definitely not judging.” 

They sat smiling at each other for a moment, and then Luka seemed to remember something, because he winced. “Umm...about your dress,” he coughed. “I am so, so sorry but it seems drunk me was kinda impatient and your dress is in pieces on my living room floor.” 

Marinette just blinked at him for a moment...and then she started to laugh. Luka grinned, and then started to chuckle along with her. She laughed harder and grabbed her head. “Ow, ow, oh my God.” Without thinking she leaned forward to drop her head on Luka’s shoulder. 

He stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed, and one of his hands slipped into her hair. His fingers began to rub in small circles. 

“Mmm, that’s good,” she sighed, and felt Luka’s chuckle.

“Well that sounds familiar,” he said, his voice going a little deeper. Marinette shivered. She felt him swallow, and his face dipped slightly towards her. “I like your perfume,” he said, and had to clear his throat again. Marinette’s face warmed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. His fingers continued to rub her aching head, and the pain actually seemed to be receding a bit, though whether from the massage or the painkillers he’d given her, she wasn’t sure.

She should sit up. He was a stranger, after all, and just because they’d—she wasn’t exactly experienced at this kind of thing but this wasn’t really fitting in with what she imagined a morning after to be like. She probably looked weird, leaning on him like...like they were a couple or something, and—

Luka’s hands shifted and began to comb gently, slowly through her hair, and Marinette let out a small moan. She felt his breath hitch and bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?” he asked, but there was a rough edge to his voice that—she was being silly though, he’d performed last night, and then they’d done all that drinking, and...and those other things, and it was no wonder if his voice was—

That voice was doing things to her, though, and reminding her of—things, and this time it was her breath that caught as the fingers that had been moving through her hair kept going down this time, sliding along her spine, raising goosebumps and reminding her that she was still very much naked. 

“Do you, um,” Luka began, in the exact same deep tones that had made her leave the club with him last night. “Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?” 

His fingers stilled, resting at the small of her back, and Marinette couldn’t see his face since hers was still buried in his shoulder. It was hard to think when he was so warm, and her nose was brushing his collarbone, and she’d hardly have to move to press her lips against his smooth skin. 

She barely knew him. But...well...that hadn’t stopped her last night, so...

Marinette took a deep breath, and lifted her head, sitting back slightly to look at him. His breathing was steady as he looked back at her, almost too steady, but his eyes were dark. 

“No,” she managed, barely above a whisper. 

Luka’s hands moved up her back to trail up and down her arms. “Then, do you want to stay for a while longer?” They were swaying towards each other. “Maybe…” They were kissing before he could finish the thought. Marinette put her arms around his neck automatically, but as his arms went around her, pulling her closer, she dropped her hands back down again to rub over his broad, firm shoulders. 

“Again?” he managed to get out between the fevered kisses, and Marinette made an affirmative noise, but he didn’t move until she broke away long enough to gasp, “Yes.” 

He was pulling away the sheet between them even as he wrapped one arm around her and dragged her more fully onto the bed, settling her below him with surprising gentleness. Okay, that was hot, Marinette decided, burying her fingers in his already-messy hair as he began retracing the path he’d marked along her neck last night. Last night had been a really, really stupid decision, but this? As he pulled back to look at her, eyes clear and sharp instead of the hazy, unfocused gaze he’d had the night before, and brushed her hair tenderly back from her face before kissing her again, softly, and then deeply, Marinette began to feel that this morning was by far the best decision she’d made in a long time. 

***

He should get up, Luka thought hazily, listening to his shower running. He should at least put his boxers back on or something. Change the sheets. Make some coffee. Something.

Instead he lay there, limp and relaxed, listening to the shower, and trying to hold on to this feeling of languid contentment.

God, he felt so good. Marinette was an amazing partner, sweet and so responsive, practically melting under his touch, firm and toned but soft in all the right places, and her little gasps and hums drove him crazy. She was bolder than he expected, an amazing kisser even drunk off her ass last night, and her mouth was so pretty and soft, and this morning...his body hummed with echoes of pleasure as he thought about it. 

He rolled over, hugging his pillow, and grinned. He could still smell her perfume. That scent was engraved in his mind; it was one of the things that was clearest to him from the jumbled mix of memories of the night before. Luka remembered dancing with Marinette, dropping his head to hear something she was saying, and inhaling that scent, vivid despite the riot of smells that permeated the dance floor. He remembered being surrounded by it in the blur that was the cab ride home. He remembered gasping it in on the living room floor...did they fall? He thought he remembered one of them tripping over the doorstep. Even just now, with all his senses full of her, he had found traces of it on her skin, at her jaw and right behind her ear. 

Luka shivered, buried his face in the pillow, and breathed deep. 

He’d played a killer set last night, he’d gone home with a beautiful woman who was great in bed, had somehow managed not to humiliate himself despite his spiked drinks, and he had nowhere to be today. This morning would be perfect if he wasn’t dead certain that Marinette was going to leave and he would never see her again. 

He really wanted to see her again. 

Which was why he hadn’t wanted things to happen this way, damn it. He sighed, this time burying his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He was supposed to flirt with her, get her number, ask her out, think with his brain and not his—hormones. 

He was still going to kill his so-called friend. There was no justifying what Jean had done. If Victor had been working it never would have happened, but he’d called out for the night and apparently whoever had replaced him had been more than happy to make sure Luka’s drinks were stronger than advertised.

Bastards, both of them. 

Even if it hadn’t turned out too badly. 

Rock Giant blared out from his nightstand, and Luka flopped on his back and grabbed for his phone, forcing his eyes open as he answered it. “Hello?” he grumbled. 

Silence. Luka frowned, and opened his mouth, but the person on the other end finally said, “I’m looking for Marinette.” 

What? Luka frowned, and then pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It was pink. 

Right. Because he’d found Marinette’s dead phone on the floor this morning when he got up, and he’d picked it up and set it in his charger, while he took his own to the living room to call and yell at Jean. Then he’d hurled his phone into the couch and left it there.

Shit. 

“Ah,” he said, reaching up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair. “She’s, um, in the shower. I can tell her to call you when she gets out.” 

“Tell her to call Alya. If I don’t hear from her in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police,” the girl on the other end of the line said coldly, and then hung up.

“Oops,” Luka muttered, setting Marinette’s phone back on the nightstand with a sigh. He hoped she wouldn’t be too mad at him. He probably should have come up with a more ambiguous excuse, something she could use for a cover if she didn’t want to admit to this Alya person that she’d gone home with a guy, but he wasn’t exactly thinking on his feet this morning. 

He should get up. He sat up with a groan and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. 

He registered that the shower was no longer running at about the same time that the door opened. Luka looked up and his jaw dropped as Marinette shuffled shyly into the room.

Shit, he’d seen her naked less than an hour ago, why was he still blushing?  She was wearing two of his shirts, a t-shirt with one of his button-ups over it, open at the front and with the sleeves rolled up, cinched at her waist with her scarf from the night before. He couldn’t look away from that scarf for a moment, a pink, gauzy thing the sight of which brought Luka another vivid memory of pressing his face against her neck to inhale her perfume as he untied it. His eyes flicked up to the lovely pattern of bruises along her neck. 

“Thanks for letting me raid your closet,” Marinette said, tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt. She had what looked like a pair of his black bike shorts on underneath. They were too big for her but damn did her legs look good anyway.

“No problem,” he coughed, and cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of water that was still sitting on his nightstand. Ugh, when did he become such a horn dog, drooling like this over a woman who had already more than satisfied him. Why did Jean have to decide to be a jerk last night, of all nights. Luka didn’t want things to end like this. 

“Well, I should...If you maybe have a bag I can put my dress in? Then I can just go and get out of your hair.” Marinette couldn’t seem to be still, feet shuffling, hands fluttering, not looking at him.

I have to fix this, was the only thing he could think as he stared at her. I’ll regret it forever if she just walks out.

“Actually,” Luka said quickly, trying desperately not to sound too desperate, “I was going to ask if I could buy you breakfast.” 

That stilled her. She froze, staring at him, and he forced himself to go on. “No pressure,” he shrugged, “But the café on the corner has a great all-day brunch menu. And I’d like to make it up to you, about the dress.” He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Marinette’s eyes followed the motion and he thought he saw pink tint her cheeks. Well, at least it wasn’t just him. “Breakfast probably doesn’t begin to cover it, but it’s a start. If you don’t mind waiting for me to shower.” 

Marinette was shuffling again. “O-okay,” she said. “I’ll, um...I’ll wait for you in the other room?”

Luka chuckled. “Sure.” He waited a moment, but when she just stood there, he tossed aside the sheet covering his lap and stood. “I’ll be quick,” he told her with a grin that he was extremely sure she didn’t see. She squeaked as he passed her and he had to smother his laughter, even as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She was too cute, and her ogling made him feel less like a creep for his own.

Then he cursed and opened the door again, leaning just his upper half out. “Oh, I need to tell you, you need to call, um, Alya? I’m really sorry, but we have the same ringtone and I answered without thinking. Can you call her back before she sends the cops after me? I can’t deal with Officer Roger this early in the morning.”

Marinette paused, and then let out a strangled laugh, dropping her head into her hand. “Yeah,” she sighed, but she was smiling when she looked up at him. “Sure, I can do that.” 

Luka smiled back. “I'll only be a few minutes.” 

He did want to be quick, but he also wanted to be clean and attractive, so he throttled back his impatience as best he could to make sure that he both smelled and looked good. The bedroom was still empty when he came in, but the door wasn’t shut all the way and he could hear Marinette on the phone. He felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but it wasn’t as if he could help it. 

“—about that but it’s not like I ditched you on purpose. Well obviously I was wasted, Alya, so I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.  No, I’m really fine. I’m kind of embarrassed and I feel really stupid, but...it turned out okay. Hmm? No, he’s really sweet and considerate. He’s, um, buying me breakfast, so…what? No, Alya, I’m not stupid, I know that. He’s just being nice and—okay that is none of your business! ” There was a giggle that followed that, and then her voice dropped too quiet for him to hear, and another giggle, one that made him smile from the sheer joy evident in it. “I guess I got lucky in more ways than one.” She sighed. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me. I really am fine. Not even sick, much. I mean I had a headache for a while, but...” She giggled again. “Luka took care of it. Mm-hmm, so good, Alya, oh my God.” Luka grinned to himself as he dug in his closet to find the stack of leftover merch he had crammed into the back corner. “Nuh uh, also none of your business. Anyway, I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, okay?”

Stop being a smug bastard , Luka told himself, but it wasn’t working very well. Given the state she had reduced him to, it was gratifying to know she’d enjoyed herself too. Well, he had known that, he’d made sure of it, but it still felt good to hear it from her. Maybe his odds were better than he thought. He found what he was looking for and tried to turn his smirk into something less incriminating before he opened his door and emerged into the living room. From the way Marinette’s face turned red, he failed. “I really gotta go,” she mumbled into the phone, eyes on him. “Bye, Alya.” 

“I hope this will do,” Luka said, offering her the cheap mesh tote with his band logo on it. “You can keep it, we use them to bag up merch when people by t-shirts and stuff for the band...I hope it’s…”

“It’s fine,” Marinette smiled, taking the bag. The pieces of her dress were already neatly folded on the couch, and she turned away from him to put them in the bag. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” Luka told her, frowning a little. “I’m...not usually like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette sighed. “It was kind of flimsy, with just those straps to hold the pieces together. I’m not usually like this…” she gestured with one of the folded pieces, “either. I’m not, you know, sexy like that. I made it because I thought...well, I thought he would like it, and maybe I could wear it for a special occasion at home, but I never meant to wear it out , and then when everything happened, I thought I’d never wear it at all, but then Alya insisted that I had to wear it at least once and…” She shrugged, and slipped the handles of the tote over her arm, smiling up at him. “I’m just as happy to have an excuse not to wear it again.” 

“Well, you looked amazing in it,” Luka told her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But I have to disagree with you about not usually being sexy. My clothes have never looked so hot.”

She tried to hide how much she enjoyed the compliment, but couldn’t quite manage it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d had a breakup, he remembered, and probably wasn’t feeling too good about herself when she walked into that bar last night, dressed to the nines, and started knocking back drinks. 

Then her blue eyes flicked up to give him a look through her lashes. “I find that hard to believe,” she murmured, and then blushed. 

Oh he was gone. Luka found himself reaching for her, but stopped his hand before it touched her cheek. “Can I kiss you, Marinette?” 

Her eyebrows shot up. “Now, you’re asking?” 

“Yes, I’m asking,” Luka replied, amused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Marinette’s eyes darted to his mouth, and then back towards the bedroom. “I don’t, um...think I can…” 

Luka chuckled. “Thanks for your opinion of my stamina, but frankly, me either. I’d be more than willing if I could, but, right here right now? I just really want to kiss you.” 

“Why?” Marinette blurted, and then covered her mouth. Luka blinked, but before he could come up with any kind of answer, Marinette straightened and squared her shoulders. “Look,” she said briskly. “I’m sorry, I just...I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what...I don’t know what the rules are? The...etiquette, or whatever...I mean I kind of thought once we were done with…” Her eyes shifted towards his bedroom again. “I thought it was just, over? And I would go home? So I’m...I guess I’m confused. About why you’re still...um...breakfast and kissing and all that, it just…why would you still want that, after you—I mean we—aren’t we, you know…” She floundered. 

“Okay, hold on,” Luka raised his hands placatingly. “Relax, Marinette. That was kind of a lot to take in.” Luka chuckled, and looked away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m not gonna say I’ve never done this before, but...listen, I don’t have a playbook. This isn’t...a business transaction, or whatever. I just do what feels good. Dancing with you felt good. Kissing you felt good. Everything we did after felt good. This morning felt really good.” Marinette blushed, a smile tugging at her lips. “I just feel good with you. I don’t see any reason to put a time limit on that, just because we’re, um. Worn out.” They both giggled self-consciously, and Luka reached for Marinette’s hand, cradling it in his. “If you want to go, or you need to be somewhere, or if you’re just tired of kissing me—”

“I don’t,” Marinette said quickly, taking a half step forward. “I’m...not.” Luka smiled.

“Then just do what feels g—” 

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, dropping the bag on the floor. Luka’s hands found her hips automatically, steadying them both from her hasty move, and the kiss softened as they both relaxed into it. 

“You’re right,” Marinette breathed, sending a shiver up his spine. “It does feel good.” 

Luka kissed her again softly, savoring the soft plumpness of her lower lip between his, and rested his forehead against hers. “I could kiss you all day,” he rumbled, and cleared his throat. “But fainting from hunger probably wouldn’t feel so good, so. We should probably go.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, and then bit the lip he’d just been enjoying. “But maybe we could...keep doing what feels good? For a while? Until I have to go?” 

“Hell yeah,” Luka grinned, and grinned wider when she rose up and kissed him again. He picked up her bag and offered it to her, and walked her to the front door and opened it for her, his other hand still entwined with hers.

They made it to the landing when Marinette hesitated at the top of the stairs. Looking over her head, Luka saw one of his nosier neighbors staring up at them, judgment in every line of her body. Marinette was frozen under the stare, red slowly creeping up her face. He could sense the sudden panic in her, and put a hand on her hip. 

Luka leaned down by her ear. “You were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen last night,” he murmured, smiling when Marinette shivered and turned her head slightly to listen to him, jolted out of whatever spiral she’d been in. “You completely blew my mind this morning. You’re a goddess. Own it and walk out of here like one.”

Marinette felt as if Luka’s words sank into her skin, warming her in such a way that she almost forgot what they were talking about. She was busy reliving the way he had arched against her, the praises he had whispered into her skin, the way he had clung to her, moaning as he came apart. She did that to him. 

Luka watched as Marinette bit her lip, fighting the smile that was suddenly trying to break out. He brushed his lips against her temple and she looked up at him, still blushing but with a sparkle in her eye that did things to his heart. She reached back and caught his hand, tangling her fingers with his, and marched down the stairs, offering a cheerful smile to the old lady at the bottom. “Good morning,” she said, and Luka grinned shamelessly as they walked out of the door.

When they made it out of the building Luka suddenly pulled back on her hand, and Marinette gasped as he whirled her up against the wall and leaned down. Marinette rose up on her toes to meet him, cupping his face in her hands and they kissed fiercely. Luka braced his hands on the wall and leaned into her. 

“Perfect,” he breathed, though even he wasn’t sure whether he meant her performance just now, or her in general. 

Marinette’s hands slid from his face to his shoulders as she blushed and looked down, but then she looked back up at him, beaming, and Luka couldn’t help smiling back at her as he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly one more time. “Breakfast,” he sighed, and pushed off the wall. He held out his hand, and Marinette put hers in it, and they were both grinning as they meandered down the sidewalk. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Marinette sighed blissfully. 

“I feel...really good,” she answered. “Thank you.” She paused, and scrunched her nose. “Is that weird to say?” 

“No,” Luka laughed, and brought their hands to his lips to press a kiss against her fingers. “Thank you too. I had a really good time. I’m glad you did too. I’m glad that...well, with the way things started. It could have all gone really badly, or not at all, and...I’m really glad I could show you a good time.” 

Marinette blushed. “It was good. Really, um. Really good.” She sighed. “I promise I know more words than this.” 

Luka chuckled. “It’s okay. Here, it’s this one.” He opened the café door, but he didn’t let go of Marinette’s hand, following right behind her into the café. They were directed to a booth, and he tugged at her, urging her to sit next to him instead of across. 

Marinette only hesitated a moment. Do what feels good . Luka’s arm felt good against her shoulders as he laid it along the back of the booth, and he leaned down and kissed her without any trace of self-consciousness. Marinette’s fingers curled in his shirt. Kissing him felt really good. She should be embarrassed; she should be pushing him away. Hadn’t she heard over and over how important image is, and here she is making out with her one night stand, wearing his clothes, in a public diner booth. 

Do what feels good . 

It definitely felt good. 

“God that feels good,” Luka sighed as they parted, and Marinette giggled. He kissed the top of her head, and then picked up the menu as a slightly wary waitress approached. Marinette glanced up at him in surprise at the rather domestic gesture, but then quickly away again. Stupid. They’d already had that conversation. It was just an impulse, not something to read into. Marinette looked up at the waitress instead, feeling her cheeks heat. 

The waitress didn’t look phased at all. If anything, she looked bored. “Coffee?” she offered in a disinterested tone.

“Um, no, thank you,” Marinette managed to smile. “I’d like some lemon tea with honey, please.” 

The waitress nodded, and glanced at Luka. “Usual, Lu?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Luka said, flashing a quick grin before looking at the menu again. 

“Come here often?” Marinette teased, and Luka chuckled, then coughed lightly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s close and I’m lazy, so…” He shrugged. 

The waitress returned and set down a little pot of hot water, a cup with a tea bag in it, and a container of honey. 

Marinette pulled away from Luka slightly to prepare the tea, but his arm remained behind her on the back of the booth. 

“Here,” Marinette said, sliding the tea over to him when it was ready. “This’ll help your throat.”. 

Luka blinked, and then smiled. “Thank you,” he said, and Marinette found herself blushing under his suddenly soft gaze.

“No, thank you,” she said, and he laughed as she reached over and stole his coffee cup. She sipped it carefully. It wasn’t quite as sweet as she liked it, but it was good enough. She glanced up at Luka over the rim, and he was still giving her that soft look. 

“I should figure out a ride,” Marinette murmured, looking away, and she picked up her phone.

“I can get you a cab if you want,” Luka offered, but Marinette shook her head. 

“My roommate’s boyfriend works nights around here, and he should be getting off soon. I’ll see if he can pick me up first.” She smiled at Luka. “If not, we can revisit the offer. Thank you.” 

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she kept him close for another, and her next text to Nino wasn’t entirely coherent. 

They had to disentangle from each other when their food came, but Marinette remained very aware of Luka’s arm brushing her own, and the soft smiles he gave anytime she glanced at him. She glanced away, tucking back a lock of hair to cover up the fact that she was grinning like a fool. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? she wondered. Was this just like, afterglow or something? Would it fade away once she left?

Luka touched her shoulder and Marinette jumped. He blinked. “Sorry. I was just asking if you got your ride worked out, but I guess you were a bit zoned out.” 

“Sorry,” Marinette said quickly, and stuffed her phone back in her purse. “Yeah, Nino’s going to pick me up here in a little bit.” Luka nodded. 

He put his arm back around her when they were finished eating, and he ordered another lemon tea instead of the coffee she expected. “You were right,” he smiled. “It did help.” 

Marinette mixed it up for him again when it came, and then settled in and leaned against Luka’s side as he sipped it. He smelled nice, and he was warm, and she loved how easy he made everything feel. 

Luka watched Marinette’s eyelids begin to droop. He nuzzled her hair and kissed her temple, but she just smiled, her eyes still closed. She was adorable, and Luka sighed before jostling her slightly.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he warned, and Marinette blinked her eyes back open. “I don’t particularly mind, but we can’t stay in this booth all day.”

“Can’t we?” Marinette sighed. “I’m so comfortable. You’ve been...really great Luka. I’m kind of sorry it has to end.” 

Luka took a breath, and took the plunge. “Well, about that. I was hoping maybe we could see each other again.”

Marinette blinked uncomprehendingly, and then blushed as she sat up and looked at him. “Y-you mean, like a...a b-b—” 

“I mean like a date,” Luka corrected, mouth twitching. She was really too cute. “The kind with talking and dinner and movies or whatever. I’d really like to spend more time with you, Marinette. Talking, and not just...well. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to stop doing everything else, but...I want to get to know you.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened. “R-really?”

Luka tilted his head slightly. “Why are you surprised?” 

“I just don’t—I mean I didn’t think I’d be…” Marinette ducked her head, drawing circles in the ring of condensation forming around the base of her water glass. “You don’t even know me.” 

“True.” Luka raised his eyebrows, and shifted his gaze away so he wasn’t looking quite so fully at her. “That’s why I’m asking you out. I don’t know you, but I want to. If you want to call it quits now and go home and never see me again, I’ll accept that, but...it’s definitely not the way I want this to go.”

“I…” Marinette looked down, twining a finger nervously in her hair. “I don’t know, Luka. You’re really sweet and—I really did have a great time with you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get hurt because I’m on the rebound, I…I don’t know if I’m ready for another, um...relationship, right now. I mean...”

Not what he wanted to hear, but...“Okay. That’s fair,” Luka nodded, the fingers of his free hand beginning to tap the table lightly.. “What if we just keep things casual for now? We can go out sometimes, and have some fun together...do what feels good…” he squeezed her hip, and watched her try to keep back the smile that wanted to break out, “get to know each other, and if you want to see other people or whatever, I’m cool with that for now. I’d just really like the chance to spend more time with you. If it doesn’t go anywhere then…” He shrugged, “at least I tried. You’ve put me on notice now, so it’s my choice to take the risk. I think you’re worth it.” His heart was beating so fast, and the tap of his fingers picked up tempo as he watched Marinette consider. 

“Why?” Marinette whispered at last, with a sigh that hurt his heart. Her last relationship must really have done a number on her. 

Luka cupped her cheek in his hand, coaxing her to look up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just...have a feeling about you. I’ve learned to trust my instincts about people. I can’t explain it logically, I just...know. You’re someone I want to know. I felt it from the moment I saw you, before I’d even had a single drink.” 

Marinette pursed her lips, looking up at him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live up to that,” she said after a long moment.

Luka let his thumb stroke lightly against her lower lip. “You don’t have to live up to anything. Just be you, and let what happens happen.” He bent and kissed her, slipping a hand behind her neck to get a better angle as he plundered her mouth in a way that was definitely not appropriate for a public place. Luka was pretty far beyond caring at the moment though. That this gorgeous, sweet, vibrant woman, could question that someone might be drawn to her, attracted to her for more than a passing moment...it just wasn’t right. 

Marinette relaxed into him with a quiet moan. Her hand slipped under his jacket and pressed into his chest, feeling him up shamelessly, and his own fingers tightened on her hip. 

“So,” he breathed, when he finally let her slip reluctantly away. “What do you say?”

Marinette looked up at him, and bit her reddened lip, and then quietly asked, “Are you free this weekend?”

Luka grinned. “Actually, not so much, I’m usually playing gigs on weekends...how about Thursday? That way I don’t have to hurry away.”

Marinette hummed, and pulled out her phone. He watched the fingertip she pressed against her lips as she considered her schedule, and admired her bright eyes when she smiled up at him. “Okay, Thursday works.” 

“It’s a date,” Luka smiled so softly that Marinette’s heart fluttered. How did he do that, kiss her like that and then do something so—so sweet . 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought as he got out his own phone to swap numbers with her. What if she fell for him? 

But...he sounded like he wanted her to fall for him. Maybe? But what if he fell for her, and she was just using him for sex? Because he’d made her feel so, so good...important and beautiful and wanted and…

It might not even be like that again, she told herself. Maybe I just imagined it because I was lonely and depressed and feeling unwanted...maybe I would be thinking about anyone who gave me some attention that way. Maybe we’ll just...fizzle out and it won’t even be an issue.. 

Luka curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. “You okay?” he asked softly. 

“I…” her voice was shaking, and she took a breath and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just. I’m tired.” 

He didn’t believe her. “You’re okay,” he told her, kissing her cheek gently, and then the corner of her mouth. “Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay.”

Marinette’s phone beeped, and she picked it up with relief. “He’s almost here.”

She slid out of the booth, and Luka followed. He left some bills on the table and took her hand as they walked out. 

“That’s my ride,” Marinette gestured as Nino pulled up at the curb. She turned to face Luka, stepping close. He set his hands on her hips and squeezed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, but she paused, and then turned and caught his mouth instead. Luka moved easily to meet her in one of those slow, deep kisses that made it seem like he had no other place in the world to be. She stroked his cheeks with her fingertips and kissed him again, and then again as she slid her fingers back up into his hair. “Goodbye, Luka,” she whispered, and he shook his head. 

“See you later,” he corrected softly.   

As he let go of her she felt something slide along her hip and looked down to see the pink scarf that had been tied around her waist slipping away. She looked up at Luka’s grinning face as he winked at her and draped the gauzy scarf around his neck. He raised the fabric to his face and inhaled. “See you Thursday,” he told her, eyes twinkling, and turned to walk away. 

Marinette’s knees felt shaky as she stepped down the curb and opened the car door. 

Nino was hunched down in the front seat, both hands pulling his cap over his face. “Geeze, Nette,” he muttered as she fell into the seat and tucked her feet inside. “I really didn’t need to see that.” 

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, but as she flipped down the visor to check herself in the vanity mirror, she saw pink cheeks and sparkling eyes and a broad smile, and knew that she wasn’t convincing. She pressed her fingers to her lips and, for Nino’s sake, fought down the urge to squeal. 

Her glow dimmed a bit as she followed Nino up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Alya. She loved her friend, but...she wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. She tugged the collar of Luka’s shirt a little higher on her neck, and tried to remember what Luka had told her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. 

“Well well well,” Alya drawled as Marinette slipped into the apartment after Nino. “Your very first walk of shame.” She smirked. “Marinette, I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“What I had in me was a lot of vodka,” Marinette huffed, and came over to the table, accepting the glass of ice water Alya pushed across to her.

Alya waited until Marinette had the drink at her lips to add, “And a hot guy, apparently.” 

Marinette choked, just as Alya had intended. “Alya!” 

“Don’t tell me he wasn’t, girl,” Alya snickered. “You, my friend, look very well fucked.” 

Marinette blushed hard. She was, at that, but Alya didn’t have to put it so...crassly.

Nino groaned. “You know what, just...knock and let me know when you’re done. I don’t want to think about it.” He went down the hall into Alya’s bedroom and shut the door. 

“So you said goodbye to Mr. Right For Tonight?” Alya asked, tapping her fingers against her own glass. “You have all your stuff, right?” She frowned. “Are those his clothes? What happened to your dress?”

“I have it with me,” Marinette defended, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “He just...thought I’d be more comfortable in something else.” Not for a million euros would she have told Alya the whole truth about the dress. “And yes, I said goodbye. For now, anyway,” Marinette muttered, and caught Alya’s gaze when she looked up. Something in that look made her squirm. “Actually we have a date later this week,” she admitted. 

“A date?” Alya raised her eyebrows. “Marinette, maybe I need to clue you in on a few things about this whole one night stand business. As in, one single night. After which you…” She made a fluttering motion with her hand. “You’re not supposed to get a date.” 

Marinette shrugged, and reached over to pluck a croissant from Alya’s plate, just to have something to do with her hands. “Oops.” 

Alya’s frown deepened. 

“What? It’s no big deal,” Marinette defended, though she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need. “We just...thought we’d like to see each other again.” 

Alya looked troubled for a moment, and then grinned. “It was that good, huh?”

“Well—” Marinette squirmed in her seat again. “It was fine, okay? He just...seemed nice.” 

“Uh huh.”  

“It was your idea anyway!” Marinette pointed out defensively.

“My idea was for you to go out and get buzzed and enjoy being drooled over,” Alya grinned. “You decided to get hammered and then get laid all on your own. I hope you’re satisfied .” 

Marinette couldn’t cover the silly smile that wanted to come up at that, but when Alya snickered, Marinette shook herself back to reality and sighed. “It was probably my imagination making things better than they were. I was feeling pretty down last night and I did have a lot to drink. And it has, you know. Been a while.”

“Maybe started seeing through beer goggles?” Alya teased. “Not that I blame you, I thought he was pretty cute when you were dancing, but I’d had a few myself by then too. Not your usual type, but it’s good to branch out.”

Marinette blushed. She didn’t want to tell Alya that while her memories of the evening were hazy, she remembered Luka in the morning very clearly, not only the lines of his body but the broadness of his back beneath her arms as she clung to him, the ripple of the muscles tensing and releasing against her as he moved, the dark intensity of his eyes and the way they fluttered closed when she did something he liked. 

She picked up her water glass and took a long gulp. No, she hadn’t needed the liquor to be attracted to him. Not at all. 

Still. She wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, even now. “Watch,” Marinette sighed, setting the glass down. “The date’ll be a bust and that’ll be the end of it. We probably won’t have anything to say to each other and we’ll exchange awkward texts for a few days and then we’ll never speak again.” 

“Hmm,” Alya raised her eyebrows. “We’ll see. It’s fine if you want to have fun, Marinette, you sure as hell could use some. Just be careful, always use protection, and don’t let him take any nudes.”

Marinette blushed deeply, and bit into her croissant. “Thanks so much for your concern,” she muttered around the mouthful. 

***

Marinette knew she was in trouble as soon as she locked eyes with Luka and her stomach started doing somersaults. The slow smile he gave her was so distracting that she barely heard his greeting, or the compliment that followed. She didn’t remember putting her hand in his, it was just there, his fingers rubbing lightly over her knuckles. They hadn’t even made it to the restaurant when Luka tugged her into a shadowed corner and kissed her in that slow, purposeful way he had. His voice surprised her a little, smoother than it had been, without the roughness of hard usage, but, she found, just as seductive. Any resistance Marinette might have had crumbled the second he turned them out of the light and breathed may I ? against her lips. 

When they did finally make it to their table, Luka was just as easygoing as he’d been on their first...night, and he meant it when he said he wanted to get to know her. He asked her questions, and seemed interested in what she said, even when she babbled, watching her with a quietly amused smile. He was interesting, too, telling her about his travels for the past year with his band. They had a surprising number of tastes in common. His eyes were fixed on her whenever she spoke, and he was touching her whenever he got the chance, taking her hand or playing with her fingers, brushing her hair back or letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Despite the kisses they shared whenever one of them couldn’t help themselves, his touch didn’t feel like seduction, just tenderness. Marinette felt like the center of his world, and after so long living on the sidelines of someone else’s life, she reveled in it. 

They were laughing as he walked her home.

“You did not,” Marinette gasped, one hand over her mouth and the other curled around Luka’s arm. 

“We totally did. What can I say, it was a full moon and my best friend is crazy.” Luka shrugged, and grinned while Marinette laughed.

“Wait, so are you a werewolf?” Marinette asked teasingly, as they approached the awning of her building.

“No,” Luka chuckled. “Unless you’re into that. If so, I can see what arrangements I can make for the next full moon.”

“You’d get bitten by a werewolf for me?” Marinette giggled. “How sweet.”

“I’d rather be bitten by you,” Luka teased back, and his hand found her hip, and her arms came up around his neck, and then they were kissing. Heat welled up in her, making her push up against him. Luka made a sound low in his throat and his hands slid to her lower back, pressing her closer. Oh, she wanted him, and by the feel of him he wanted her too, and…

Well. There really wasn’t any point in denying their mutual desire, was there. Marinette pulled away to press her lips along his jaw, and he made that sound again as he tilted his head for her. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Marinette asked, toying with his collar. “My roommate’s out of town tonight, so we won’t be, um...bothering anybody.” 

“I’d love to,” Luka told her, voice deepening. “I’d hate for you to be lonely, all by yourself.”

“Oh, I can entertain myself,” Marinette said daringly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I have an excellent imagination. There’s definitely advantages to having the real you here, though.” 

“Play your cards right and I’m sure we can manage the best of both worlds.” Luka bent and kissed the join of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to make her shudder. “You can start with telling me how you imagine we get upstairs. Are we making out in the elevator or am I chasing you up the stairs?” 

“Elevator,” Marinette sighed, head tilting as he retraced his favorite route up her neck. “I don’t want to wear your legs out just yet.” She paused to consider. “Maybe you could chase me that far, though.” 

Luka pressed another long, slow kiss to her mouth. “Then you’d better run,” he told her, grinning playfully. “I won’t be responsible for what happens when I catch you.” They both giggled, and then Marinette broke away, running for the building doors. Luka darted after her, staying just at her heels, sweeping her up in his arms just in time to carry her through the elevator doors. Marinette spared a brief moment to wonder what she was doing, being so bold, and in sight of the entire lobby, too, but Luka grinned at her, and she forgot to care. Marinette leaned over him to press the button for her floor, and then forgot everything but his mouth under hers. 

Later, when they said a lingering goodbye at her door, and he asked her if she’d like to go out again, she didn’t even hesitate before agreeing. She’d figure out a way to explain it to Alya later.

Fiction Master Post

[ppersonna]

iced americano, to-go - myg | m

one more cup of coffee for the road. one more cup of coffee before i go to the valley below - one more cup of coffee, bob dylan

↳ summary- yoongi really REALLY loves iced coffee...

↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nc17

↳ word count- 2.3k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre-  pwp lol, smut, fluff, crack? man this is just smut about coffee

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (dont…pls), light dirty talk, face sitting, cream pie, uhhhh i think thats it

↳ a/n- i had an iced americano this morning that made me feel things and i imagine yoongi would feel the same way.... pls forgive me.  ily❤

The sunlight that pounds into Yoongi’s head feels like a punishment for staying up so late drinking the night before.

He rolls over in an attempt to pull you closer, wanting to breathe in the scent of your shampoo but finds himself coming up short and snuggling your pillow instead.

He groans and cracks an eye open and finds the bed empty.  It’s still warm—you must not have gone long, but Yoongi frowns regardless. He’s fighting a hangover headache and wants nothing more than the feel of your soft skin.

He flops onto his back dramatically and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the blinding light. A sigh escapes him and he finds himself slipping back into a light doze when he hears the familiar beeping of the keypad of the front door to your shared apartment.

Yoongi props himself up slightly as you finally enter the bedroom. A long T-shirt hangs off your body, and you’re clearly not wearing a bra underneath—apparent from the way your nipples poke through the fabric.  The striped shorts on your legs barely cover your modesty and your hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in a year.

But best of all, you’re clutching two iced drinks in your hand. Yoongi thinks you’ve never looked so perfect.

“I brought you an iced americano,” you yawn as you toe the slippers off your feet.

“You went to Starbucks like that?” He asks as he lifts an eyebrow in surprise.

“And what about it?” You retort as you place the cold drink in his hand.

“God, I fucking love you, you know that?” He questions, setting the drink on the nightstand before he pulls you into his arms. “My fucking soul mate.”

You squeak at the surprise hug and muffle a response into his bare chest that he can’t hear but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is you, the fact that you feel just as shitty as him and still went out of your way to get him the one drink that he can’t live without.

“Sit on my face,” he demands.

The look in your eyes tells him you’re caught off guard but you nod in agreement anyways.

“Because I...got you coffee?” You ask dumbly as you shimmy the shorts down your legs.

“Yeah, you got me fucking coffee. Let me eat you out.”

“Okay…”

He can tell by your unsure tone that you still don’t get it, but who are you to deny the rapper’s tongue technology.

The shorts come off quickly and he shivers at the sight of you without panties. Knowing you went to a coffee shop barely clothed in order to get him a drink makes his cock harden like stone.

You’re still clutching your own drink as you straddle your boyfriend’s face and hover over him—you’re so dazed and confused by the sudden request that you forget it’s there.  

Yoongi grins and wraps his arms around your legs securely and beckons you closer.

“My good little girlfriend being so sweet and getting me a coffee for my hangover, fuck,” he groans as he can see you’re already slick. It doesn’t take you long to get excited when it involves the man below you.

Yoongi pulls you down further until his nose is buried in your cunt. It makes you whine as you feel his hot breath.

Yoongi chuckles, then pulls you in even closer and begins his onslaught with his tongue.

It dances over your clit and swirls it around, making you gasp and squeal and grip the drink in your hands tighter.

As yoongi gets to work, he sighs into you at the feel of your legs trembling and core shaking. He drags the flat of his tongue around your clit and down to spear into your dripping cunt.  He laps at the juices that seep out now, and he’s sure his face will be covered in your essence by the time he’s done.

He hums his approval at the sweet taste of you and smirks as you gasp at the vibration. You’re easy to get off like this. The surprise coupled with the position has you near the edge already.

“Y-yoongi,” you mewl as you begin to pant heavily.

It thrills him to feel your wetness begin to paint his face. His grip tightens on your soft thighs as he increases his fervor. He can’t get enough of the wet heat of you, his tongue diving inside you as deep as he can get it.

Your taste is one he doesn’t think he can live without. He’s not sure how he did live without it for so long before he actually got to have you.

It’s hard to breathe with his face pressed into your cunt but the thought of breathing is so far out of Yoongi’s mind it barely registers. He’d gladly suffocate between the thickness of your thighs, face pressed against you and tongue buried inside you forever. There’s no way he’d rather go.

You’re crying out, free hand dragging through his hair and gripping the freshly dyed black locks. You’re unable to hold back the loud moans of pleasure that rack through you now.  Yoongi feels jubilant.

“Sh-shit! Yoongi! Baby, I’m gonna cum!” You’re wailing as loud as you can. Yoongi’s headache doesn’t even mind the loud echo of your voice. It seems your pussy is more potent than any painkiller he could take.

He coaxes you, pressures you to cum as hard as you can as he flicks your clit with dangerous speed. His tongue is flickering back and forth across the nub with increasing pressure and speed.  Your wails match in time to the beat he sets in your cunt.  

It doesn’t take long until you’re screaming his name and throwing your head back shamelessly as your orgasm washes over you. He feels the slick burst and slide down his mouth, pooling at the crevices of his neck. He slurps as much as he can, not wanting to miss a single drop if he can help it.

You whine in over sensitivity and your hips shudder as he continues and you’re giggling to beg him to stop.  He releases your thighs and allows you to move off his face.

The sight of Yoongi covered in your own cum makes you suddenly desperate for more of him.  You’re greedy and Yoongi’s cock tightens in his boxers—it wants all the attention you can give it.

“Fuck, that was hot, babe,” he murmurs as he wipes your slick off with a hand.

Your cheeks are tickled pink like you’re embarrassed, but you both know you’re anything but.

“Fuck me.”

Yoongi grins at your demand and winks.

“Let’s put that coffee down first, yeah?” He says as he reaches for your own iced drink still clutched in your hand. He sets it next to his and chuckles. “I’m proud of you. Not a single spill.”

You’re pulling his boxers down and pressing kisses to his hard length.

“I’d rather die than spill my coffee,” you sigh as your lips wrap around the head of his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans as he watches you envelop him. “That’s my fucking girl.”

He’s not sure if he’s praising you for the fantastic cock sucking or the fact you’re just as coffee obsessed as he is—neither of you care. The praise alone is enough.

Your head bobs and Yoongi moves hair out of your face.  He wants to see your pretty eyes as you pleasure him. It’s one of the best parts of the act. He wishes he could frame a photo of your face with your mouth shoved full of his cock—it’s his favorite scene.

He feels his body shudder and balls tighten and he’s afraid he’s already so close and wants to cum inside your sweet cunt rather than down your throat tonight.  He nudges your face and pulls you up with a gentle ‘ah, ah’.

You lift, eyebrow raised in confusion and he pulls you close to straddle his hips.

“Wanna fill you up.”  

You need no other reason.  Your fingers lift and tug your baggy sleep shirt off completely and you’re preening at how on display you are for the rapper.  He drinks the sight of your full breasts, thick thighs, dripping cunt. It’s his favorite gift, one he gets to open every single day and night.

“Gonna ride your cock, babe,” you promise as you line yourself up.  

Yoongi smirks and settles his hands in the curve of your waist, smoothing them down until he reaches the crest of your hips.  

A hiss leaves him as you slowly take him in, inch by inch. The heat of your drenched core has him nearly cumming right there, but he grits his teeth and holds it in.  He’s so turned on from everything about you this morning that he feels his orgasm is hanging on by a single tripwire.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp as you finally settle and sit with him fully encased in you. “So fucking big.”

The compliment goes directly to Yoongi’s ego and he winks at you as you open your eyes to stare down at him.  Your hands move to rest on his bare chest and you move your hips to start a rising motion.

Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling. He loves the way you take initiative. He loves laying back and letting you do the hard work.  The way your pussy grips his cock has him pressing his lips against yours and moaning his approval into your mouth.  

Your tongues swirl around each other as your ass bounces on his thighs and you gasp against his lips every time the bulbous head of his dick rubs at the spot inside you that makes your vision white out for just a few seconds.   You’re already high from your first orgasm, and your second is quickly approaching.

“You’re so fucking good to me,” Yoongi groans, pulling his mouth away from yours as he assists your hips in bouncing on his cock. “Got me my own fucking coffee.”

You babble in reply, something that doesn’t make sense but you both understand it. It means ‘of course I did. I fucking love you.’

You both quicken your pace.  He can tell your thighs are burning from the exertion but the bliss written on your face tells him you don’t care. Your hand drops to rub at your clit and Yoongi’s mesmerized by the movements. He can’t wait to feel you reach your second high with him buried so deep inside you.

“I love you,” he grunts. His voice is becoming raw, feral.  He’s moving you up and down his cock so fast, aided by the slickness pouring out of you. “My fucking hot little girlfriend buying me fucking coffee.”

He’s stuck on that notion, captivated that you went out of your way to make his morning better.

“Mmmmf, gonna fucking stuff you full of my cum, babe,” he warns. He can feel his abdomen clench with incoming pressure. “You want that, baby? You want this little pussy dripping with my cum all day?”

Your bottom lip trembles, and he can tell by the fluttering of your walls that you’re close.

“Say it, baby girl. Say you want my cum.  I’ll give it to you, just say the word.”

“Yoongi! Fuck!” Your finger speeds up, circling lasciviously at the bundle of nerves he thoroughly tongue abused earlier. “Fucking cum inside me!”

Yoongi is incapable of holding back after your needy demand and he throws his head back against the pillow and ruts up into you once, twice, three times until he feels all of It snap inside him.  His cock pulses hot white stripes in your core.

The feeling of his twitching dick inside you sends you feeling and you steel yourself with a hand on his chest to keep from collapsing as you ride him through the top crest of your orgasm.

“Ohhhh! Fuck!” You scream as your channel pulses tightly around him, sucks his seed in deep and molds itself around his cock. It grips him tight and Yoongi whimpers at the feeling.

There’s nothing he can compare it to. No other feeling in the world compares to the way each ridge of his cock feels when you’re cumming around him. He feels like it’s the definition of nirvana.

Both bodies are slicked with sweat and you let your body fall to rest your cheek on Yoongi’s shoulder.  His arms wrap around your body as he nuzzles into you. His cock remains deep inside you, and he can feel his own hot cum start to slide around his cock, mixing with your own release.

He pushes you up for a moment, wants to see the way your pussy drips his seed.  You understand his need and sit up, lifting your pelvis to allow his cock to slide out of you.

A hot white trail of cum follows and lands on his lower abdomen, and Yoongi whines at the sight of his cum slicking up your channel, filling you to the brim.  It sets a flame to the possessive part of him he can’t control.  You’re his. Fully.

After a moment of silence, you lower back down to rest on his thighs and reach for the two drinks on the nightstand.

Yoongi chuckles as you press his dark drink into his hands and you greedily suck up the caffeinated beverage in your own.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he jokes as he sips at it through the straw and savors the taste of it, mixing with the taste of you still on his lips.

You smile at him as you rub your slick core up and down his bare thigh.

“Shit, I’m about to buy you coffee every fucking day if that’s how you’re gonna treat me.”

Yoongi winks and pokes at your side teasingly.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[eelistolvanen]

Bruises that you left behind - Travis Konecny Pt.3

A/N: So since we’ve almost reached 100 notes on Part 2, I finally got the motivation to finish the next part. So thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged or commented! Let me know if you like it! Part 4 is in the works but I’d greatly appreciate some feedback :) 

So here it is, there will finally be some Travis x reader interactions, so buckle up folks ;)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of suspected cheating, no proofread (as usual) 

You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

_____________________________

You were nursing the worst hangover you’ve ever had the morning after. You’d already drunk enough at the party, but after Kevin had left, once he brought you home, you’d downed a entire bottle of red wine in self pity. You weren’t really sure anymore what triggered your episode. You wanted to blame your outburst against Travis on the alcohol, but deep down you knew there was another reason, the alcohol just aided it. After all this time you were still hurt. You’d never really gotten over it.

Getting out of bed proved to be a real struggle. But after half an hour you were sitting at your kitchen island trying to eat some breakfast. The pounding headache had gotten a bit better after taking some painkillers, but was still noticeable.

For a quick moment you though the ringing in your ears reappeared, then you realised that someone had actually rang your doorbell. You could already imagine who was standing behind the door as you approached it. Not entirely ready to face one of his lectures, but you couldn’t really avoid it.

“Damn, you look a lot worse than I expected you to.” This was all you were greeted with as Nolan moved past you into your apartment.

“It’s nice to see you too, Nols.” You scoffed sarcastically.

He sat down at the kitchen island and waited for you to join him. Both of you stayed silent as Nolan let his gaze wander over the mess in your kitchen. Surprisingly, he didn’t comment on it, a quick headshake was all that you got.

“I know Haysey already told you that we didn’t know that he would show, but I just needed to tell you myself. We really didn’t know. He wasn’t even invited and I have no idea why he thought he needed to make an appearance. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You knew that he felt bad, just like Kevin. But it wasn’t their fault. And as much as you wished not to have to see him, you also knew that there always was a chance that you’d crossed paths somewhere.

“It’s fine, Nols. I’m not mad and you did nothing wrong, so no need to apologize. It should probably be me apologizing, after all I’m the one who called his girlfriend a puckbunny, so… “

Nolan chuckled at your words. “I’m pretty sure they’re not dating, so don’t be sorry. I mean, I thought it seemed to be very fitting for her but anyway… Let’s forget about that.”

You gladly accepted. The two of you hung out for another hour or so, before Nolan decided that he probably shut head over to Kelsey’s.

 Sometime in the afternoon Kevin texted you and asked if you wanted to hang out in the evening. You agreed to it even though you knew that Kevin would bring up the whole Travis thing as well.

It did take Kevin surprisingly long til he brought Travis up though. And you knew that this conversation was about to come.

“He called me today.” Kevin didn’t have to name any names for you to know he was talking about him. “And he asked about you.”

You waited for him to keep going but he stayed silent.

“So?” Kevin exhaled loudly and made eye contact with you. “I just thought you wanted to know…”

“Do I?” You couldn’t stop your voice from being laced with poison. You were being rude and you knew it. Kevin never asked to be dragged into this.

“Ahh, I don’t know Y/N. Come on, I’m trying here. Well anyway, he wanted to know about you. What you were doing at the party. Why we went together. Why you’re in Philly.”

You felt irritated. Why on earth would he care. He felt. He had no right to ask Kevin about you.

“So you told him, huh?” You were being unfair, you knew you had to stop acting like a bitch towards Kev, but God you couldn’t help it.

“ No, Y/N! I didn’t. I didn’t tell him anything because I didn’t want you to get hurt-“

“You also told him that he wouldn’t show to the party.” That was low, even for you.

“For fucks sake, Y/N! He wasn’t invited, he wasn’t supposed to show up, okay? I get it, you never wanted to see him again but it’s to late now. Just don’t take your anger out on me, I did nothing wrong.”

You deserved to be called out like this. He was right after all, you had taken it out on him. And Nolan. And neither of them did anything wrong.

“So what do I do now? I mean this is the exact reason why I left that life behind. Because even though you’re my family, it also means that everything I tried to avoid is catching up to me. And I don’t know how to handle that, Kev.”

“But you can’t run away anymore, Y/N. You have to face it. And maybe talking to him would do you good. You know, talking like adults. Civilized.” He meant well but you still felt like he was accusing you.

“Civilized? So I don’t know how to talk civilized?” There was disbelief in your voice. Was he serious?

“No, you do… It’s just that swearing at him and calling him names won’t get you anywhere. That’s all I’m saying.” He was right but you still hated to hear it. There was so much pent up emotion inside you, you had to get rid of it somehow.

“I know what you mean Kev. But I can’t just forgive him…”

“And I’m not asking you to. But I know that you want to know the reason and you won’t get an answer unless you talk to him. An I know he wants to talk to you…”

He was speaking softly, quietly asking you to speak to Travis. You were walking a fine line, you knew that. But you were also painfully aware of the fact that you wouldn’t get any better unless you started to face this. Face him. And your feelings towards him.  

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

Every turn Kevin made, made you feel more nauseous. The closer you got to him the more you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know if I can do this Kev.” Your voice felt weak, barely above a whisper.

Kevin quickly glanced over to you in the passenger seat. A worried look flashed over his face.

“Yes you can, Y/N. At least try okay? You agreed to meet him and if it gets to much, I’m gonna be waiting in the car, okay? And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

You felt yourself relax slightly. You were still nervous but knowing that Kevin was close by, put you slightly at ease. You had to do this. For you.  

Kevin parked the car in a parking space beside the sidewalk, only meters from the entrance to the park. You hadn’t been here in a while. You hadn’t been here many times anyway. A couple of times with Travis, when you were walking the dogs. It wasn’t your usual spot, which was exactly the reason why you choose it. It didn’t hold any particular memories that could hurt you. You barely even remembered what this park looked like. Kevin pulled you out of your thoughts as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N. You can do this. And I’m here, okay?” You could feel him squeeze your shoulder as you slowly nodded and got out of the car.

You saw him as soon as you walked through the entrance of the park. He had his back to you and you couldn’t see his face but you would always recognize his silhouette. You felt your heart get heavy. You started to walk towards him, fighting all the urges to turn around and run away from him as fast as you could. He hadn’t noticed you, so you could still pull out. But once you got within a 10 feet he must have heard your footsteps. He wiped around quickly and you were left wondering how this movement didn’t give him whiplash.

“Y/N. You came.” His voice was quiet and he send you a quick smile. It didn’t reach his eyes though, they were filled with sorrow. His sad smile made your heart ache.

You looked at him. For the first time in almost 2.5 years you really looked at him. You almost felt yourself taken aback at the dark rings underneath his eyes. He looked tired, exhausted even and completely worn out. In a way he looked almost the same than he used to. But in some way he also looked like a completely different person. The radiance, the light that he used to give off seemingly had vanished. His bubbliness seemed to have made space for something darker. He looked hollow, almost as if the Travis standing in front of you was a ghost of the man he used to be. To a stranger he probably would have looked completely normal. Physically he hadn’t really changed that much, but all those little things that made Travis Travis weren’t there anymore.

He had noticed your shocked expression as well as you gave him a one over.

“I look like shit, huh?” He was trying to lighten the mood, but if anything it made it worse.

“No no, you just look… different.” You knew he didn’t buy your lie, but you didn’t feel like pity him so you did what you did so well. Turn defensive.

“So your girlfriend let you go and talk to me?” Travis scoffed at your words.

“She’s not my girlfriend. And you don’t have to worry about her, you won’t see her around again.”

“I still shouldn’t have called her a puckbunny. That was low.” You genuinely felt sorry about it. Even if she was one of those girls, calling her out in front of the entire team wasn’t your proudest moment.

Travis chuckled slightly. “Nah, it’s fine.” His expression turned serious again, almost sour. “You and Hayesy, huh?”

At first you didn’t even understand what he meant. It took you a moment to regain your composure.

“What? No, we’re friends. Same as we’ve always been. Nothing more.”

At first he looked sceptical but slowly he seemed to relax. Which then sparked anger inside of you.

“It shouldn’t really be any of your concern though, I mean what do you care? You left me.”

Your emotions were bubbling inside of you. And as hard as you tried tears were scarily close to spill as you tried to choke back your pain.

He groaned loudly. “I know. I fucked up. I made a mistake. And I’m so sorry for doing this to you, Y/N.”

This was too much for you. You couldn’t hold back your emotions anymore. Tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“You just left and I’ve never heard of you since. Not even a single word. Nothing.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. I reached out to you. Afterwards. But it was too late. When I came back to our house the first time after that day, you were gone. Every trace of you had vanished. An I tried to call, but I could never get through to you. And eventually I had to accept that I lost you.”

“Don’t put this on me! What did you expect Travis? That I’d wait around in our house hoping that maybe one day you’d return? That maybe it was all just some sick joke? You left me standing on our wedding day and you don’t get to blame me for trying to pick myself up again and start fresh.”

He stayed silent for a while. The guilt seemed to consume him. He abandoned the most important thing in his life and he knew that you had every right to hate him. He had no right to ask you for forgiveness and he knew that. But that didn’t meant that he wouldn’t at least try to mend the things he broke. You could hear him inhale sharply.

“I know that I hurt you. I fucked up, big time. And I’m painfully aware of it.” Even a complete stranger would have been able to identify the pained expression on Travis’ face. He was being completely honest with you. Not that it mattered though.

“Yeah, you did. You broke me Travis, you realise that, right?” He felt like someone shot a dagger through his heart. He knew he hurt you. Badly. But hearing you say it made it real. He would never be able to forgive himself. And you wouldn’t either, Travis was sure of that.

“I know Y/N, just tell me what I can do to make it better. Please, Y/N! I want to fix this. Fix us.”

He had tears in his eyes. You could see that he wanted to touch you, hug you, comfort you but he also knew that it wasn’t his place to do so anymore. It killed you to see him like that. So broken. How ironic. Both of you broken beyond repair.

“You can’t, Travis. This isn’t something you can fix.” You paused, thinking over your next words.

“You know I wish there was a evident reason, one that I knew back then. That you had some mistress, stopped loving me or something. But… I thought everything was fine. I thought we were great. I had no indication that something went wrong between us and I think this is why it hurts so much. One day everything seemed great and the next… everything was completely shattered.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. Quickly you turned around. You couldn’t do this. Standing across from him, talking to him, hearing his voice. All it did was remind you of the pain he put you through.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”  He tried to reach out to you, catch your arms but you slipped out of his grip before he could get any closer. “Y/N!” But his pleads fell onto deaf ears. You’d already turned your back to him and were walking away as you heard him speak up again. It was quiet but you could hear it clear as day.

“I still love you Y/N! You have to know that. And I will never stop loving you, even if you hate me now.”

A quiet sob escaped your lips. This is why you wanted to stay as far away from his as possible. Nobody was able to hurt you like he did, even if he didn’t intent to. So you kept on walking.

When Travis left the park he caught a glimpse of you, sitting in Kevin’s car, seemingly hugging him. And although he knew that you had been honest with him when he asked you about Kevin, he couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous that someone else was the one comforting you now, when it used to be him who held you when you felt like you were falling apart. Jealous that someone else got to go to a Halloween party with you and dress up in stupid costumes. Jealous that someone else got to see you smile now.

Because this should have been him.

 -----------

You were sitting on Nolan’s couch, trying to figure out how your life slipped from you, when you thought you had everything. You tried not to think back to that day, but every time you thought about Travis the memories just kept resurfacing. You couldn’t get his face off your mind, it almost seemed like his image had burned itself into your memory.

Someone ringing the doorbell ripped you from your thoughts.

“Are you expecting anyone?” He didn’t answer, he just gave you a quick headshake before making his way to the door. You didn’t want to eavesdrop but your curiosity took over. You felt yourself freeze as you recognized the voice at the door.

“I need to talk to you, Pat.” There was urgency in his voice, he sounded almost desperate.

You could Nolan calmly reply: “Now is not a good time, Travis.”

“But it’s important. Please.” It really must have been important, considering that Travis didn’t usually begged for someone’s attention like that.

“I.. I can’t, Teeks, I’m busy.“ You couldn’t see Nolan’s face but you could sense the uneasiness in his voice. And of course Travis had picked up on it to.

“You’re busy?... She’s here, isn’t she?” You couldn’t hear Nolan’s answer but the commotion coming from the hallway pretty much gave away that Travis knew that you were here. You could hear Nolan and Travis speaking over each other and moments later you could hear footsteps coming down the Hall. You could hear Nolan telling Travis that he needed to leave.

“I have to talk to her.” With that he appeared in the living room. “Y/N.” It was more breathed over his lips than actually spoken and it instantly send shivers down your spine.

“What are you doing here Travis?” You felt so little, sitting curled up on Nolan’s couch while he was standing in the entry of the living room.  

“Can we talk? Again?” He seemed surprisingly calm. He was wearing a snapback and that yellow hoodie that you used to love so much. He used to radiate almost as much brightness as his hoodie, but now he constantly seemed as if someone dimmed his light. He looked tired, just as the other day.

“We have talked.” You tired to be as cold as possible, trying to shield you from the emotions that were rising inside of you.

“Yeah, and you ran away.” You sucked in air, trying to interject before he spoke up again but you came up empty.

“Please Y/N. And if you feel like it’s too much or you want me to leave I’ll leave, just let me at least try to explain.”

You wouldn’t get rid off him that quickly, so you took a deep breath before nodding.

You led him out of the living room towards Nolan’s bedroom. As much as you wanted Nolan by your side you knew that you needed to have this conversation in private.

Once the door was closed you looked at Travis expectantly. He seemed to be fighting for words.

“So? You wanted to talk. So talk.” You were being cold but you didn’t feel like standing in a room with Travis while the both off you stared at each other in silence. As if there wasn’t already enough tension between the two of you when you spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-“ You interrupted him. Was he really doing this again?

“Yeah, you already said that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“And I mean it. And you need to know that. I know that I hurt you. Badly. And there’s nothing that I regret more than walking away that day. I made a mistake and I ruined my life with it. And there’s not a day in my life where I don’t wish I could undo what I’ve done.”

“Well, you can’t Travis! Did they tell you that I tried to come after you? That I tried to track you down? Tried to find you and change your mind? Only to find out that you had packed a bag and already left the country? And then you flew to..”

Your voice broke, your eyes were teary and you felt like you could barely breathe. The guilt on his face made you feel nauseous.

“Why?! Why Travis, just tell me why you did it?” You sounded raspy, you barely recognized your own voice.

“You know why, Y/N.” “No, I don’t! You never bothered to tell me. YOU JUST LEFT, without a word!”

He took a step back in surprise, certainly not expecting this outburst from you.

“You read the letter, I didn’t know how to tell you in person.”

A humourless laugh came from your lips.

“I never read the letter. I burned it.” Your entire body was trembling now. You weren’t sure why though. Maybe you were nervous, anxious even or maybe it was the anger inside of you.  

“You.. burned… the letter.” He was in such shock at your words he nearly seemed to swallow his own tongue. He stood frozen, unable to move even a single muscle. This was the last thing he expected you to admit to him.  

“I just… I don’t get it, Travis! What have I ever done to you to deserve this? What did I do to you to have a reason to leave me standing at the altar?” Your voice softened, ”What happened, Trav?”

He looked like a fish out of water. He was still fighting for words, closing and opening his mouth. If you weren’t so hurt and angry you could have laughed at his expressions.

“I.. I don’t know Y/N. I just couldn’t do it.”

Anger started to rise up in your chest. God, you wanted to punch him. He’d always been a bad liar, you could smell his lies miles away.

“That’s bullshit Travis! We both know that, so stop lying to my face. You know how much I hate lying. You were able to write it in a letter but you can’t say it to my face?!” You tried to calm yourself. Take some deep breaths and steady your breathing. To no luck. Even Travis could see your trembling hands. You let out a shaky breath and kept going: “Was there someone else? Is that it?”

Your jaw clenches at that thought, you really didn’t think that Travis would ever cheat but who knows. You also didn’t think he would leave you on your wedding day but here you where.  Apparently you didn’t knew him as well as you thought you did. He seemed absolutely frozen for a moment, too shocked at your accusation to answer. But his hesitation was leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No, Y/N! That’s not the reason-” “So what is it then? God Travis, just tell me. What on earth could have possibly been a reason to break off our engagement? Our relationship. Years spent together and without a warning you left.” You felt yourself starting to crack, a lump started to form in your throat and you knew that you would break soon enough. “ Did you just suddenly, one day to the next, stop loving me? Did you fall out of love? Was I just not good enough for you? What happened, Travis? Why did you leave me?” You weren’t even gonna try to hold back the tears streaming down your face. You just let them all out, sobs racked your body. The anger had left your body now and made way for the endless pain you felt when thinking about that day. You completely broke down in front of him

“Y/N…”

He knew that there was nothing he could say that would ease your pain. The damage was already done. You could feel Travis trying to reach out to you, but you pushed him away. You couldn’t see the expression on him face but if you did, you’d seen the agony that mirrored yours. When you let out a sorrowful quiet cry, he couldn’t compose himself anymore. He couldn’t watch you being in this much pain. He’d never hated himself more than in this moment. He knew that he was the reason for all this pain. So he fled the room.

Nolan stormed into the room only seconds later. Wrapping his body around his, as if he was trying to keep all the broken pieces together. And for what felt like eternity he just held you like that, at least you knew that he wasn’t going to let go of you.

“I think there was someone else, Nolan.” You broke the silence first, knowing that Nolan would give you as much time as you needed. The confused look Nolan gave you now, told you that he wasn’t exactly following what you were saying.

“That’s why he left. There was someone else. That-“ Nolan interrupted you before you could get another word out.

“This can’t be. Someone would have known. He would have told someone by now. I mean, did he admit that there was someone else?”

“Not technically, but he kinda hesitated when I brought it up. And he also didn’t actively deny it, so..”

Your voice started to cut out and you could feel the lump in your throat form. You were so sure of it now that you thought about it. His hesitation, the way he deflected the question. This had to be the reason. There was nothing else that could have been the reason.

“There was someone else, I just know it.”

Part 4 

[whumpmatsus]

hush. [ Wakabamatsu ]

In which Jyushimatsu wakes up with a migraine, but his big brother is going to take good care of him, so... it’s okay.

Jyushimatsu doesn’t usually wake up easily, unless he hears Ichimatsu’s voice or all the rest of his brothers are arguing.

He’s so full of energy for most of the day, it’s like he recharges at night by sleeping so deeply. Even going to bed with the lights on doesn’t bother him like it might for, say, Ichimatsu. He’s also typically asleep before everyone else… though that doesn’t necessarily translate into being awake earlier.

Tonight, or maybe it’s really early in the morning, he’s woken up by the most excruciating physical pain he’s ever felt.

It feels like someone’s jabbing an ice pick into the left side of his head, right above his eye. The pain isn’t repetitive; rather, it doesn’t seem to actually stop at all. It’s just constant and there and awful.

Worse yet is the fact that it feels like the world is spinning. The sensation makes him panicky, his heart pounding against his ribs, because he knows he isn’t moving. He’s still as can be and it’s everything else that’s moving. Isn’t it?

He exerts what he thinks is an enormous amount of willpower into closing his eyes and clenching his fists. Maybe he’s dreaming? That’s it. He’s just dreaming about being on a boat or something.

It only takes a few seconds for him to decide that is not what’s going on. The rocking sensation is getting worse, and he’s not waking up, so this can’t be a dream.

He takes a breath and throws his hand to the side, frantically searching for his older brother beside him. “Ch… Choromatsu-nii-san…!” He tries to keep his eyes shut. If he opens them again, the pain in his head is going to intensify.

There’s a tired groan from beside him, and the sounds of Choromatsu trying to get his bearings. “Huhm… mmh… Jyushimatsu? Aaah…” He yawns. “Is everything okay?”

“No… no, I don’t feel good…” He wishes he could feel prideful about complaining or guilty for waking his big brother up. Normally, he would at least try to suffer on his own for a bit before going to one of his brothers. Instead, the pain overtakes everything else.

“Aaaah… it’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I’m right here to take care of you, alright?” Choromatsu is careful as always when he knows one of the others is feeling poorly, and he scoots closer. “Come here. Will it make you feel better if I hold you for a little bit?”

Jyushimatsu isn’t sure. However, as with most other situations, a hug certainly can’t hurt when he isn’t feeling well. “Ahahah… y-yeah, maybe… my head really hurts.” He turns over into his brother’s embrace, expecting to have an easier time calming down once he’s nestled against Choromatsu’s chest.

Choromatsu’s arms reach out to pull Jyushimatsu closer. “Ah, no… I’m sorry, Jyushi. It’s okay… I’ll rub it and maybe you can get back to sleep.”

That sounds nice, but it doesn’t get a chance to happen. Any possibility of peace evaporates as soon as Jyushimatsu rolls onto his side. He opens his eyes briefly only for his vision to wobble and darken. The spinning he’s been feeling takes half a second to blossom into full-on nausea, then he practically chokes on a gag.

It’s all the warning either of them get before suddenly he’s vomited into the space between them ― and, more embarrassingly, he’s pretty sure it splashed Choromatsu in the process.

“Ah! J-Jyushimatsu!” Despite what just happened, Choromatsu moves to pull Jyushimatsu closer to him in an attempt to comfort him, particularly when it becomes clear that his poor little brother has started to wail. “Oh, my God… Jyushi… h-hey, hey, it’s okay! D-don’t cry, please!”

The sound of someone, or maybe the entire rest of their brood, moaning awake on the other side of Choromatsu serves to do nothing except make the pounding in Jyushimatsu’s head louder. His own sobbing makes pressure against his skull and it’s sharp and why can’t he stop?

“Hey, what gives? Are you two assclowns trying to wake the whole fucking neighborhood?” Osomatsu’s voice is groggy and irritated, and it’s just one more thing driving that ice pick deeper into Jyushimatsu’s head.

Jyushimatsu can feel the vibration from the growl Choromatsu gives toward their eldest. “God, would you calm your tits? Jyushimatsu threw up.”

“In the futon?!”

“Are you kidding me right now? He couldn’t help it!”

Osomatsu whines for a second, which is exactly no help to Jyushimatsu’s headache, but then he just yawns. “Geez… what happened??”

“I don’t know…” Choromatsu’s hand combs lightly through his brother’s hair, though it’s not any significant relief. Mostly it makes Jyushimatsu feel less self-conscious; if Choromatsu isn’t freaking out and moving away, he’s probably more worried about Jyushimatsu’s wellbeing than with the fact that he and the futon just got puked on. “He woke me up and said he didn’t feel good, that his head hurt. Then he rolled over so I could hold him, and… threw up.”

Jyushimatsu whimpers pitifully, trying to wipe at his mouth. “I f-feel seasick… my eyes are all blurry… my head hurts really bad…”

Choromatsu lets out a quiet, “Oh…” like he’s had some big moment of realization about what’s going on. “Jyushi… did you feel sick to your stomach before you moved?”

“Mnh-mnh. It just felt like… the world was spinning… still feels like that. I thought I was d-dreaming about being on a boat… then when I moved… my stomach went all flip-floppy… feels a little better now.”

“Okay, okay… that’s good, at least. What about your head? Is the pain mostly on one side?”

“Uh-huh. Like someone’s… trying to drill into my brain right above my left eye…”

“Aw. Gosh. Well, in that case…” He leans down to press a kiss to Jyushimatsu’s head, and pats his back in reassurance. “Sounds like a migraine to me. Like a headache times a thousand, complete with a side of vertigo and aura. I’m sorry Osomatsu is such a dick that he yelled at us.”

“WHAT?! I’m not a dick! I’m just tired!”

Choromatsu hisses as the noise makes Jyushimatsu flinch. “Those things aren’t mutually exclusive, you jackass. And would you show some Goddamn concern for your baby brother over here? You’re talking loud and making him more miserable.”

“You just―” Osomatsu stops dead as he seems to realize that he’s literally just proving Choromatsu’s point. “― Ah, shit, sorry, Jyushi. Uhhh. What are we supposed to do for this? Besides get out of the futon and go set up camp in the living room for the night?”

“Yeah,” comes a low, sleep-husky voice Jyushimatsu recognizes as Ichimatsu’s. “Is there anything we can do? The last time I had a headache that made me blow chunks, I was out of it for the rest of the day and still felt all hazy once it was gone.”

Jyushimatsu almost starts crying again at the thought of feeling so bad for an entire day. He settles for sniffling and tucking his painful head under Choromatsu’s chin.

The action gets the third eldest’s attention, as he’s immediately pulled in closer and gets another kiss on the head. “Aah, well… most of the time, a migraine kind of has to go away on its own. We can try giving him painkillers and making it as dark as possible in here and keeping things quiet…”

Totty snorts. “So keep Osomatsu-nii-san away from him, then.”

“Oh, you two-faced little―”

“Osomatsu-nii-san! Where are your manners? Jyushimatsu-nii-san’s head!”

“I don’t have manners at 5 in the morning on a Monday!”

“Dear brothers, why are we all sniping at each other? Should we not instead be trying to help our little Jyushimatsu?”

“Like you could be any help. Just being around you has to be causing him more pain, Shittymatsu.”

“Cut it the fuck out, all of you!” Choromatsu’s voice comes out in a vicious whisper as he continues to cradle Jyushimatsu. “None of you are helping right now. You guys just… get your pillows, get some extra blankets, and head into the living room. I’ll get Jyushimatsu and I changed, we’ll move over to a clean part of the futon, and I’ll spend the rest of the night in here with him.”

There’s a distinct pause, which almost sounds louder than if anyone had said anything. Finally Ichimatsu speaks up again. “Are you sure? I can stay.”

“No, no, it’s okay, Ichimatsu. I’ve got it. You know I’ll take good care of him.”

Ichimatsu lets out a soft sigh. “… Yeah, I know. Let us know if we can help.”

“I will. You guys go try to get some sleep, okay?”

The other four murmur some well wishes, probably trying not to make things worse, and the sound of the door sliding open is sort of like a knife cutting through Jyushimatsu’s mind. He curls up tighter against Choromatsu, looking for protection.

Though, unfortunately, based on what his big brother said a minute ago, there’s nothing that can really be done to take away the pain. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sniffling again. “I didn’t m-mean to throw up on you…”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Jyushimatsu, it’s okay. You don’t feel well. It’s not like you wanted to do it.” Choromatsu rubs Jyushimatsu’s back a few times, giving a cautious squeeze to his whole body. “You don’t need to be sorry. Now, listen. I’m gonna close the curtains and blinds and go change my clothes real fast, then I’m gonna try to see if I can get you cleaned up and change your shirt, too. You’re a little dirty… I don’t want you getting nauseous again from the smell. After that I’m gonna carry you to the other side of the futon, and… we’ll make sure the other side gets cleaned up later when you feel better.”

Okay. Okay, that sounds like not too bad of a plan. He can do that, right? It sounds like Choromatsu is going to be the one doing most of the work, so Jyushimatsu shouldn’t have to move too much. That would be ideal; he feels like if he moves to roll onto his back or anything, he might be sick again. “Okay.”

“Okay? Okay. Good, uh… hm… if we can get some painkillers in you, it might help take the edge off the migraine. Do you think maybe you could get some medicine down with a few sips of water?”

“I… I dunno… maybe.” The thought of swallowing anything isn’t pleasant. But if it could potentially take a little bit of the pain away, he can try. What’s the worst thing that could happen? He might hurl again? At least he’ll have given it a shot.

He feels Choromatsu pull away from him. “Alright, we’ll try it, then. I’ll bring a trashcan in here just in case you throw up again. And, ah, let’s see… sometimes an ice pack against your head helps. Want me to bring one?”

He barely resists the urge to nod, because he knows that would be a terrible idea right now. “Mhm.”

“Alright. You just… lie still and don’t move, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me see if I can get it a little darker in here…”

There’s a brief rattling sound that comes along with Choromatsu trying to shut the blinds, then a fabric-shifting noise from the curtains.

Instantly the soft sunlight which was trying to filter in is blocked. Despite the fact that it’s not totally pitch black, it feels like shadows have descended on the room. Cool, greyish shadows that are protecting him from the agony of anything bright.

A few minutes seems kind of like an eternity to Jyushimatsu at the moment. He’s still a little dizzy even with his eyes clamped shut, although the nausea has faded into almost nothing, thank goodness. The sharp pain in his head continues, and he’s partially convinced that it’s going to split him in half.

Everything is awful. He’s used to being the one who can tolerate the most extreme things and often is fully involved in those things. Yet, right now, everything is too much. Even his own thoughts are too loud.

The only movement he makes is to reach up a trembling hand and touch his head in some childish hope that holding it will make the hurt stop. Unlike Choromatsu’s gentle kisses, however, just touching the epicenter of the migraine sends a horrible shockwave of pain through his whole body.

When Choromatsu returns, he returns to his little brother curled up in a ball, breathing deeply and still mewling in intense discomfort.

“Hey, Jyushi… I’m back.” He keeps his voice low as he kneels down, giving another couple of rubs to Jyushimatsu’s back. “You doing okay?”

Ugh, why would he ask that?? Jyushimatsu wants to be angry, he is a little annoyed… but Choromatsu is trying to take care of him. He can’t be too pissed when all his big brother wants is to make him as comfortable as possible. “No… it hurts.”

“Aah, I know, I know… I’m sorry. Is it okay if I try to change your shirt now? I can probably do it without making you sit up, if I’m careful… you’ll have to raise your arms, though.”

“Uh-huh… okay.”

“I will have to sit you up to take the medicine in a minute.” His hand pulls at the bottom of Jyushimatsu’s shirt, starting to roll it up. “I’ve got a trashcan here if you think you’re gonna be sick again. Just give a big squeeze to any part of me you can reach if you need to throw up, okay?”

“Mmh, okay…”

It’s a slow process as Choromatsu gradually manages to get Jyushimatsu’s shirt up off him. Jyushimatsu raises his arms when prompted, and that little motion makes him feel like he’s swaying even more than he already felt like. He’s able to keep them up until his brother gets his arms and head through the new shirt, thank goodness.

How he doesn’t accidentally roll into the mess he made in the futon is beyond him. He mostly credits that to Choromatsu, though. It feels like his big brother is holding him pretty steady, from what he can tell.

“There we go,” Choromatsu sighs, with a sound like he’s dusting his hands off. “Do you think you’ll be okay to sit up and take the medicine?”

Before he can stop himself, a small whine comes out. “I… I changed my mind, Choromatsu-nii-san. I think I’ll puke if I sit up and try to swallow anything…”

Choromatsu’s hand kneads gingerly at the base of Jyushimatsu’s neck. Even among everything else, it’s a comforting gesture. “Hey, hey, that’s fine. The water and medicine will still be here when you feel like you’re okay to take it. I’m just gonna carry you over to the other side of the futon now, okay? I’m gonna pick you up, and I’ll go really slow. You gonna be alright?”

“Mmm… y-yeah, I think so. Not too fast… right?”

“Right. And just tell me if you need me to stop for a second. Here we go, okay?”

Jyushimatsu braces himself for the movement, and true to Choromatsu’s word, he’s lifted up very gingerly, in a series of tiny moves rather than one swift one. He keeps his eyes shut as his brother makes a little adjustment, with one arm under Jyushimatsu’s legs and one supporting his back, and his head cradled against Choromatsu’s chest.

Despite his pain, Jyushimatsu finds the energy to give a weak laugh. “Haha… upsy-daisy…”

Choromatsu chuckles along, a barely-there breath of amusement. “Yeah, upsy-daisy. You remember… that one day when we were all kids, and Mom took us to the beach ― that day it was sunny in the morning but started raining when we’d only been in the water for like half an hour?”

“Oh, yeah… hehe… and then we made a beach in the living room when we got home… because I put a bucketful of sand in our tote bag before we started swimming, hehe.”

“Yeah, that’s right! I remember Osomatsu, Karamatsu, and I each grabbed one of you younger guys… Osomatsu grabbed Totty, and Karamatsu grabbed Ichimatsu, and I grabbed you. We carried you out of the water and into the car, haha… running to get out of the rain as fast as we could.”

After a second, Jyushimatsu is laid down in that same careful way Choromatsu picked him up, and having a clean part of the futon under him feels a lot better. Soon enough his older brother is lying next to him, gingerly guiding him into a hug to comfort him. “I remember holding you in my arms way back then just like I did a minute ago. I held you really close and tried to keep you from getting wet, haha.”

“Mmm.” Jyushimatsu snuggles in closer and buries his face in Choromatsu’s chest to try and shut out whatever light might be left. “I think I remember that, too. Hahah… you’re a good big brother. Trying to keep me safe.”

Choromatsu’s hand strokes through Jyushimatsu’s hair; long, syrupy strokes that feel much better than when he tried to hold his head himself. The ice pack must have been set down close, because something cold and soothing is held against the left side of his head. “W-well, you know… you’re a good little brother… worthy of being kept safe.”

“Haha. All the rest of your little brothers… they can suck it, right?”

He snorts, and thank God, it doesn’t disrupt the peace they’ve both been trying to cultivate. “Aah, no… all my brothers are worthy of being kept safe. Even the jackass eldest and the hollow monster baby. But, I mean… don’t tell them I said that.”

Jyushimatsu breathes in and out a few times as he settles in to hopefully get some sleep. “No, no, no… it’d go to their heads.”

“Heh, good. Speaking of dreaming… let’s try to get some rest, okay? Fingers crossed you’ll be feeling better after a little more sleep. If not, at least you won’t be totally conscious for some of the pain. I’ll take the ice pack off in a few minutes here, and all you have to do is let me know if you need anything. Sound like a plan?”

“Mhm. Nighty night, Choromatsu-nii-san.”

A warm breath of a sigh hits the top of his head. In a way, just having his big brother close like this is more comforting than any other remedy he could have suggested. “Night, Jyushi. Feel better soon or else I’m just gonna have to keep taking care of you.”

[spencers-renaissance]

Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Summary: Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that's ever happened to Spencer.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, making up, bullying, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Spencer is having one hell of a morning. He’d slept late, a significantly rare occurrence for him, and the metro had been delayed and diverted, leaving him to walk a decent chunk of his journey into work. To top it all off, he’d left his pencil case at home, leaving him stuck with cheap office supplies on a paperwork day. 

He hates days like these, when his mood is so seriously affected by events beyond his control, and he knows he’s just going to continue to fester in his own self-prescribed misery if he doesn’t take some drastic steps to change the way he’s feeling. 

After a moment of staring into space as he considers his options, he decides on a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Surveying the mess on his desk after opening his eyes, he tackles that next, sorting through case files that can be filed away and organising the notes he’s currently working on as well as rearranging his personal items to stop them taking up so much room. Already feeling better, he takes a few sips of water and some painkillers for the headache he can feel coming on, and locks eyes on the break room. His mid-morning coffee is due.

Elle and Derek are chatting at the counter when he pushes the door open, and he smiles at both of them. He’s still getting used to being around Elle. She’s so confident and intimidating that he’s not really sure if she likes him that much, and it definitely doesn’t help that she reminds him of the girls he used to go to school with, the ones who found it amusing to laugh at the much younger autistic boy, hiding his stuff and calling him names, standing by and laughing when the older boys would beat him up. 

He tries very hard with her, though. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to build more rapport, he thinks, so he listens in while he refills the coffee machine’s water. It’s definitely got nothing to do with how much he wants to climb Derek Morgan like a tree.

Derek looks over and catches him up in that thoughtful sort of way that always gets Spencer’s stomach fluttering. “Elle’s just telling me about the hot date she had on Saturday,” he winks, nudging her in the side. “He seems like a catch.” He sips innocently at his coffee and Spencer realises belatedly that he’s being sarcastic and watches for Elle’s response. God, he wishes conversations weren’t so damn convoluted.

“Oh, fuck off, Morgan,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re just jealous because I got laid and how long’s it been for you? Months?”

It’s Derek’s turn to roll his eyes, looking over at Spencer in a way that has him flushing pink. “Come on, Greenaway,” he laughs, “you know full well I’m not exactly lacking in that department.”

Elle gives him a dubious look, before raising her eyebrows and sipping her coffee. “Whatever you say,” she says in a patronising tone - the kind that reminds Spencer of an adult indulging a fantastical child. Derek laughs again, tapping lightly on the underside of her mug and causing it to spill over her hand a little. Spencer envies how easy it is for other people to elicit such a beautiful sound from Derek’s mouth; the few times he’s intentionally made Derek laugh he’d felt like he won a trophy, the sort he’d frame in a cabinet and show off to visitors, giving them a tour of the limited map of Spencer’s victories with a proud smile on his face.

He watches the exchange a little awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to these two very dominant personalities discussing an area he’s not overly familiar with. Unfortunately, they don’t ignore him forever and Elle looks over at him, her intense, fiery gaze already stirring up nerves in his stomach. “Anyway, what about you, Reid, when was your last hot date?” she teases, and he cannot for the life of him figure out if it’s friendly or malicious. 

He flounders for only a second, cheeks heating up steadily, before Derek interjects. “Oh come on, Elle,” Derek scoffs. “Not sure Reid’s whole ‘twink aesthetic’ thing is quite what women are after, is it, pretty boy?” 

Instantly, humiliation bleeds into his veins. His stomach swirls and he feels dizzy, completely out of his depth as his face reddens even further and he starts to sweat. The playful nudge that digs into his side doesn’t do anything to bring him out of the protective trance his mind’s gone into. “I--” he tries, but he’s cut off by Elle clearly growing bored of the conversation and pushing off the counter-top to leave. 

She turns around for a moment as she heads towards the door, walks backwards a few steps as she delivers the final, devastating blow. “Hey, you never know, Reid,” she grins, “maybe the whole virgin genius thing will win them over instead.” She chuckles to herself as she leaves the room, door swinging closed behind her softly, leaving Derek and himself standing there in a vacuum.

Today of all days. It’s been a long time since the last time such a crushing level of humiliation was burning inside him, but he remembers the emotion like muscle memory. His body knows exactly what to do as his gut swirls and his head spins, sweat beading on his skin as though the very little self-esteem he had left is leaking steadily: the stopper that had been keeping the small amounts of confidence he had inside him degraded and dissolved by his coworker’s careless words, nothing there anymore to stop it leaking out of him. 

It’s not new. But the sting is so much more visceral when it’s shocked into him by two people he considered friends and one person he was hopelessly, desperately in love with. It feels exactly like high school and university did: the toleration of his presence for intellectual reasons, for everything Spencer had to offer, but ultimately the social rejection of him as a human being when it actually came down to it. He was useful to the team for as much as he could give them. And that was it. 

Derek takes a sip from his mug as Elle leaves, but he doesn’t notice Spencer’s completely frozen state until he tries to move on to another topic. “Spencer?” he asks, obviously concerned at his non-response and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “What’s wrong?”

He can’t find the words to respond, but he does manage to meet Derek’s eyes and he just stares at him for a few seconds before he shakes his head and looks away again. Derek’s clearly confused, but that only makes it worse. Is he overreacting? Or is Derek just truly that oblivious to the cruelty in his words, to his feelings? 

Feeling the tears burning in his eyes and adamantly refusing to cry in the middle of the breakroom, he turns around and hurries to the bathroom without saying a word. 

⭐️

He barricades himself into a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat as tears steadily spill down his cheeks. This is exactly the reason he hasn’t told a soul at the FBI -- how would a group of alpha personalities who were likely the most popular kids in high school, likely would have bullied him if they’d attended the same school, that he was gay? 

The humiliation stings more coming from Derek. Such negative association with his sexuality had proved himself right: this was a secret he needed to keep quiet. It just hurt so badly that the man he loved seemed so dismissive, so rude about something so integral to his being, and the allusions the entire exchange had to previous traumas had him struggling for breath through the steady stream of tears. 

It takes him a few minutes but he eventually manages to calm himself down. He splashes some cool water onto his heated skin and tries his hardest to breathe deeply, even though it feels almost impossible at first. Usually when he gets worked up and has a meltdown or a panic attack he’s able to talk himself out of it after he’s calmed down a little; able to rationalise and apply logic to the situation, which tends to illuminate either an overreaction or a clear path through the problem.

That coping mechanism is not applicable, though - Derek and Elle truly hurt his feelings and there’s no way around that. Instead, he just tries to push it to the edge of his mind. He thinks through the quantum physics problem he’d started at breakfast, and the logical progression through the formulas and rational reasoning he has to use brings his heart rate down and he feels at least a little calmer, even if the twisted knot of dread and grief and pain still sits heavy in his stomach. 

He’s just solved the physics problem in his head when the door swings open and he can hear Derek’s signature tread on the bathroom floor. “Spencer?” he calls quietly, pausing as the door closes behind him for just a second before making his way to the end stall. “I know you’re in there.”

“I am in here,” Spencer confirms, resenting how weak and watery his voice sounds. 

Derek sighs heavily. “I didn’t get it until I talked to JJ,” he admits, speaking through the door. “I was confused why you suddenly acted so strange so I asked her what she thought was up. I thought it was all friendly banter. To be honest, I didn’t even realise what I’d said until I was explaining it to her. But you gotta understand, pretty boy, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears still escape anyway, spilling down his tears in an expression of silent grief as he listens to Derek. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and swipes the tears away from his cheek with his fingertips before unlocking the door, revealing the most apologetic expression he’s ever seen. It doesn’t make him feel much better. He still meant what he said.

He smiles weakly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, and his voice sounds so vulnerable, it’s giving him away. 

Derek’s expression doesn’t ease at Spencer’s forgiveness, he doesn’t smile and consider the issue done and dusted, he frowns harder, eyes desperate. “No, don’t dismiss it,” he says. “I hurt you, and that was wrong. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and Elle shouldn’t have either, okay, kid? I’m really sorry.”

“I know, but I’m used to it,” Spencer says, trying for a light tone and missing the mark by an embarrassing amount. 

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Derek frowns. “If you’re so used to it, though, then why did this affect you so much? I’ve never seen you lose your cool like that.” He looks genuinely confused, and combined with the sorrow smothered across his features, it’s a pitiful sight. 

“Don’t push, Morgan,” he warns, looking back down at his hands. His back hurts from his awkward, hunched position on the cold porcelain of the toilet. 

“Seriously, Spencer, I--” Derek looks completely bewildered, caught off guard by the way he clearly expected this conversation going and the road it’s actually taken. 

“I’m gay, alright?” Spencer interjects, loudly. He looks up fiercely into Derek’s eyes as he says it, but the fight quickly drains out of him and he looks down at his hands again, tensing automatically in fear of his reaction. 

Derek doesn’t say anything though, so when Spencer eventually looks up again, he finds a strange expression on his face. Not mild disgust or confusion or awkwardness, but relief and fear and frustration. 

“Spencer, I--” He cuts himself off as he shuffles his feet and looks away, but Spencer doesn’t miss the mournful tone as he realises the true impact of his words, how they must have hurt him. “You’re gay? That’s… why my comment was so hurtful, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to imply any kind of homophobia, I mean… I’m bisexual,” he admits, the same fear Spencer had felt swirling in his stomach written on Derek’s features. 

“You are?” Spencer replies, surprise colouring his tone. He feels a surge of hope rise in his chest and he forces himself to tamper it. Just because Derek likes men absolutely does not mean he likes men like Spencer. In his experience those kinds of people tend to be fairly rare. He stands up from his uncomfortable seat, meeting Derek’s eyes properly for the first time since he entered the toilets.

What he means to do is give him a hug, or maybe have some sort of conversation on a more equal playing field. He does not mean to kiss him. 

But when all of a sudden Derek’s lips are on his and Derek’s hands are cradling his cheek and waist so gently, surely it would be rude not to kiss him back. So he does. Far too passionately for a public bathroom in an FBI building, by all accounts.

They break away eventually, and Derek immediately panics. Spencer can see it rise in his eyes and body language, so before he can say anything he pulls him into the stall properly, shutting the door behind them and kisses him again, more gently this time. It’s the most confident thing he thinks he’s ever done, and he’s damn proud of himself because he does not want to go another day without Derek kissing him as tenderly as he is right now, without his hands roaming up and down his sides, without the careful brush of his fingers against the side of his head as he pushes a strand of hair back behind his ear as they pull away again. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, pretty boy,” Derek whispers, and Spencer can feel the gentle brush of his breath against his lips.

He’s lost for words again, but in a completely different way from just minutes before, and he absolutely cannot believe this is happening. Today of all days. 

“Me too,” Spencer confesses, smiling slightly as he allows himself to convey the vulnerability he’s feeling on his face instead of building up a wall in front of it as he usually would. It doesn’t take long for reality to set in though. “But we are in an FBI building and we could definitely lose our jobs for this.”

“Right,” Derek acknowledges, looking up as he puts a bit more space between them, as much as the tiny stall allows. “Later, though, we could maybe do this… not in a government building?” 

Spencer’s always wondered how it feels to be on the receiving end of Derek’s romantic charm and charisma, and it’s rather overwhelming. Derek’s smiling cheekily as he interlocks their hands and waits for an answer and Spencer’s finding it a little hard to breathe again.

“Like… a date?” Spencer squeaks, face flushing again -- though admittedly in a much more pleasant manner -- as he prays he hasn’t got the wrong idea.

“Yes,” Derek smiles, “like a date.” He pauses and takes a breath, grinning wider for just a second before he suppresses it slightly and looks back at Spencer. “How about… I swing by your place at 7 and we head to that new Italian place you’ve been talking about?”

“Really?” Spencer asks, face open and vulnerable and honest. He hopes to God that he’s not being mocked right now. It’s happened before. He’s not sure Derek really understands the amount of trust he’s placing in him, the burden that might bring. 

“Yes, really,” Derek chuckles, bringing a hand up to rest at the side of his face again as he thumbs gently over his cheekbone. “I’m gonna wine you and dine you, baby, just you wait and see.”

Spencer knows he won’t be able to speak without squeaking embarrassingly again, so he just nods emphatically and beams at Derek. 

“I’ll see you at 7, then, pretty boy,” he winks, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “I’ll be counting down the hours.”

⭐️

Taking care to exit the toilets separately, they return to their desks, filling out the paperwork left over from their most recent case. Spencer is certain that more than one coworker picks up on their shy, knowing looks, shared over the top of coffee mugs and cheap printer paper,  but he can’t find it in himself to care. The very thing he’d craved for almost three years, since he first stepped foot in the bullpen and was introduced to Derek Morgan, was within his clutches and he was going to hold on to it no matter what it cost him.

Things feel different almost immediately: ‘pretty boy’ is infinitely more affectionate, the previously platonic touches are lingering and meaningful, Derek’s completely unnecessary paperwork consults seem more affirming and reassuring than ever. The idea that he could possibly spend the rest of his life with Derek Morgan’s hands on him, his passionate kiss on his lips, his compliments and nicknames warming him from the inside out, feels almost dizzying. He knows he’s smiling stupidly, he also knows that JJ and Elle are smiling knowingly, but he just doesn’t care.

He drives himself home and dresses in his smartest suit as soon as he gets back, even though Derek isn’t due for another 30 minutes. For reasons he refuses to acknowledge, he tidies his apartment while he waits and then takes a seat on his sofa, tapping his foot in anxious anticipation. By the time he hears a knock on his door, his heart’s in his mouth and his stomach is fluttering wildly, but that all fades to irrelevancy when he locks eyes with Derek.

“Dr Reid,” he says calmly, smile providing a soft kind of light to his face and Spencer wishes he never had to look away. He passes him a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and Spencer knows enough to recognise it’s a curated bunch, not a hasty supermarket buy but a thoughtful, purposeful trip to the florist. 

“Wow,” Spencer says, and he absolutely tries to fight down the emotion rising in his throat but he isn’t quite successful. He takes the offered bouquet and examines them in closer detail, tracing an index-finger along the petal of a yellow daffodil. “New beginnings,” he whispers as tears spring to his eyes. He stares at it a little longer before looking up to meet Derek’s softened, deep brown eyes. He’s still in disbelief that someone would go to the lengths of researching the language of flowers for him, knowing it was something that he liked. “Thank you.”

“New beginnings,” Derek repeats, taking another step closer, “love me, desire, wisdom, and affection returned.” He lifts a hand to rest on Spencer’s cheek again and looks deep into his eyes for just a moment, conveying all he needs to with one look, and leans in to kiss him.

⭐️

Aaaaand this is the conclusion to my 12 Fic Challenge! Thank you to everyone who supported my fics through this journey, I can’t believe all the amazing things it’s led to and I’m so happy that this is the fic to end it. I’m so excited for what’s next in store, so stay tuned! <3

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

[babybottlepop96]

Someone to Love (Sai x Shikamaru) 18+ Only

Warning: Smut, minors DNI, cheating, breakups, getting drunk, I think that’s it?

A/n: I just really had this idea in my head and ShikaSai is like a rare pair that I really enjoy. So here you go.

“Sai, what do you mean by ‘You're not interested anymore?’” Ino asked her husband of the last four years, the father to her child, the man she had fallen for when they were teenagers. He simply looked at her, sitting in their shared bed, hair a mess, eyes turning red with all the tears she refused to let fall. He knew this would be hard, he knew this would hurt her so badly, but during the last few years he had grown more as an emotional person. Realizing that he simply didn’t love her as he thought he did. He tried, he really did. The learning experience he gained from his readings and interactions and watching his friends who acted truly in love with their partners or spouse had been nothing but hard for him as well. Seeing how Naruto and Hinata looked at each other, how TenTen and Shino shared soft touches when out on a date, even how Kiba and his partner would play with Akamaru and have a great time. He came to the understanding that he didn’t get those feelings when he was his wife. He realized he never actually did, it was a facade, an illusion he created to feel more human, to fit in with normal society. He wanted to feel that way, he tried everything in his power to feel the love and passion in his relationship with Ino. To put the same energy into this like Ino has done.

“I mean, I don’t love you the same way you love me, Ino.” He sighed as he looked at the floor, wishing he didn’t have to do this. 

“After all these years? After all we have been through together? What about Inojin?” She asked, her heart breaking with every passing second he sat there, feeling further and further away from the man she married.

“Ino, I can’t keep pretending that I’m in love with you. Maybe I was at one point in time, but I can’t be certain. I also can’t let us still be a thing just for the sake of it, that's not fair to you, me or our son. You deserve someone who can make your world brighter, who can give you the same love and energy you give. I’m just not capable of it, I’ve tried. God, I tried. I tried so hard to give you what you rightly deserve from a husband. But, I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Sai spoke, voice cracking slightly due to the emotional state he was also putting himself through. “I’ll still be a part of Inojin’s life. He is still my son, I’ll still be a part of your life as a friend, if you still want me to. But I think, this is what we have to do, if we ever want to be truly happy.” He looked at her this time, her bed head shaking softly and eyes shut trying to suppress any loud sobs from escaping, fear of waking up her sleeping child a few doors down.

“I understand, Sai.” She said, voice barely above a whisper, scratchy from being woken up in the early hours of the morning and the force she had to use to keep herself from fully breaking down in the moment. She understood his point, in fact, she thinks it was the bravest, kindest thing she ever heard, but that doesn’t make the fact that he was leaving her hurt any less. She loved the clueless man with all her heart. She wanted him to stay, but agreed to the unfairness and selfishness that would be if she asked him to stay. No more words were said as Sai stood, grabbing a bag to stuff some clothes and other necessities in. No words were spoken as Sai exited their once shared bedroom to stroll a few doors down to their son’s room. Sneaking in and giving his son a kiss to the forehead. A silent goodbye for now. And not  noise was made as Sai removed himself from the only actual home he had ever known. Leaving behind the shattered heart of his once lover. 

‘I’m doing this for all of us.’ He thought to himself as strolled through the empty streets of Konoha, heading to the inn on the other side of the village. After purchasing a room for a few nights, Sai decided he needed to stop thinking for a bit. Deciding to stop by the bar he passed by earlier, he needs to drown out the events of the last couple hours. Sitting at the bar, he ordered a glass of their strongest liquor.

~~~

“What the actual fuck, Temari?!” Shikamaru spoke loudly outside his home, his wife standing there, eyes wide and red from crying. Shikamaru had a lit cigarette hanging between his lips, hand running through his hair, loosening the neat ponytail he always wore. 

“I’m sorry Shika!” She spoke, voice cracking every other syllable. 

“You're sorry?! How long has this been going on?!” He spoke, trying to keep his own tears at bay.

“A few months.” She spoke honestly, voice quiet as she looked at the grass beneath her bare feet, wrapping her robe around her frame tighter to keep the chilly night air from nipping at the bare skin.

“A few months.” He spoke to himself in disbelief. 

“You're never home anymore! Shikadai keeps asking where his daddy is and I have to keep explaining to him that you're at work! He wants his daddy! I wanted my husband! But your always fucking working!” She cried, body physically shaking with anger and grief. 

“So you thought it would be better to cheat on me instead of just telling me all this?! I have to work to provide for us! I’m the hokage’s right hand man! My job takes up a lot of my time! You knew this before we even got together, Temari!” He took another long drag from his cigarette, pacing in his yard. Temari didn’t say another word as the two stood in the tension filled air, the weight of everything settling in like a four hundred pound weight on their shoulders. “Did nothing in our years together mean nothing?” He whispered.

“Of course it did! Shika, I love you! I love you so much!”

“Then what is the real reason you cheated?” He looked her straight in the eyes, wanting the honest, unfiltered answer.

“I needed someone to satisfy me, touch me, give to me the needs a woman wants from her husband.” She spoke harshly. He knew what she meant, she wanted to have someone who could be there for her, to be there touch her with soft caresses and gentle kisses. Something he barely did anymore due to the amount of work he had to do. He understood what she meant.

“But you didn’t have to go behind my back and betray my trust, Temari.” He turned around and left. He couldn’t be there right now, his heart cracking with every step he took away from his home. Walking past a bar, Shikamaru thought he deserved some drinks, drowning out the numb feeling that took over his body. As Shikamaru drank, a familiar face appeared a few seats down. Face looking just as sorrowful as his own probably looked. “Hey, Sai.”

Sai turned to look at Shikamaru, “Oh, Hello Shikamaru.” He faked a smile at his wife’s… ex-wife’s teammate. “What brings you here?” He asked, making his way to his friend after his drink was placed in his hands. 

“Wife cheated on me, so I came here to drown out my sorrows with some good ol’ fashion painkiller.” Shikamaru chuckled darkly. “You?” He asked, taking a sip from his own glass.

“I broke things off with Ino, couldn’t let either of us stay in the relationship if it was only one sided.”

“She cheated?”

“No, I just came to learn that I don’t reciprocate the same feelings she does.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry man”

“Don’t be, I’m sorry about your situation as well. From what I read, cheating isn’t a good thing.” Sai sipped his drink. Shikamaru chuckled slightly at his friend, still the same Sai he met years ago. But he was older, more mature, better at understanding feelings. He grew into a handsome young man. The two drank more together, little by little, the two began to forget about their home troubles as more and more alcohol filled their systems. By the time the bar closed, both men were hammered, drunk off their asses as they stumbled against each other down the dirt streets of Konoha. “D-do you have a p-place to sleeeeeeeeeep?” A very drunk Sai asked and equally drunk Shikamaru.

“Oooooh fuuuuuuck. N-no!” Both men laughed holding onto each other for support. 

“Come back to my room th-then.” Sai smiled and Shikamaru nodded quickly. Both men finally got to the room Sai had rented, both falling backwards onto the soft bed, sinking against it slowly. “I...I wish I could find someone like you Shika. I.. I mean… You’re a hardworking person. Like… like you're just so pretty too. Like a duck. Ducks are pretty SHikamaru.” Shikamaru couldn’t help but laugh.

“I wish I could find someone like you too. Don’t expect to be constantly followed around like a lost puppy. You...you are also pretty. But like… like a um.. What are those things with feathers? The things with two legs?”

“A peacock?”

“No.. no.. It’s.. it's like a cow… but not a cow.”

“Penguin?”

“YES! THAT!” The two burst into fits of giggles. After they calmed down, they just stared at each other, eyes locking intensely to each other. Neither moved nor said a word. 

Suddenly, lips collided and hands grabbed at anything and everything they could find. Hair, limbs, the bedsheets. It was the most intoxicating thing either have experienced in so long. They felt electricity coursing through their veins that were once filled with grief and sorrow. Every touch sent heat compared to a fire everywhere they went. Clothes were discarded and thrown around the room, neither caring where they went or if they would be able to find them later. Sai was lying on top, forearms resting on either side of Shikamaru’s head. The man underneath had his hands in the other’s hair, slightly tugging to bring him closer. One of Sai’s hands slid down Shikamaru’s body, tracing and outlining every muscle until it came to the organ that needed the most attention.

His hand firmly gripped Shamaru’s cock, stroking it ever so gently. The small gasps and mewls Shikamaru let escape were swallowed by the other’s mouth, Sai’s tongue already winning the battle for dominance. With his other hand, Sai started to tease Shikamaru’s ass. Slender fingers running around the ring of muscle, lightly prodding the opening before slipping one in, already lubed from the small amount of natural lubricant that came from the tip of Shikmaru’s dick. “Oh, fuck!” Shikamaru gasped, mouth slight gaping at the unfamiliar intrusion. But he wasn’t about to complain, if he was being honest with his drunken self, he always felt something for the man on top of him. He just never realized it before, never fully cared to even consider the option. But here he was, letting himself get lost in the feeling of another man.

Sai entered another finger, scissoring the other open. Was this the feeling he wanted to so desperately give Ino? He didn’t know, but he did know that he liked whatever feeling this was. It was.. happy. Carefree. Addicting. He wanted more. He wanted to get drunk, not off more booze, but off the feeling Shikamaru gave him. He needed more.

He took out fingers, smiling slightly as the whimper that left Shikamaru’s swollen lips. He stared at the beauty of the man under him, eyes dark with lust. He aligned himself up with Shikamaru’s entrance. “I’ll be slow. I promise.” He spoke softly as he caressed the heated skin of Shikamaru’s cheek. He only got a nod in response as he slowly inched his way in. He read about using lube to help make things easier, but it seemed like neither cared at the moment, the slight burn actually felt good, maybe it was the drinks they had talking, but again, neither cared. They only relished in the feeling of one another, drinking in the blissed out faces each wore as Sai finally bottomed out. Both were still, letting each other adjust to the other. 

“Move.” Was the only thing Sai needed to hear to start thrusting his hips against Shikamaru’s. Both let out a groan at the feeling, becoming more intoxicated as the thrust kept getting faster and harder. The tip of Sai’s cock hit Shikamaru’s prostate, causing the man to let out a loud moan, causing Sai’s dick to twitch, it was like the world's most beautiful song, a song being played just for him.

“You sound.. So beautiful.. Shikamaru.” Sai grunted as he aimed for the same spot over and over again. 

“I.. I’mma… cum?!” Shikamaru moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He was so close, so terribly close it almost hurt. Sex with Temari was never this good, never this emotional, never this….. Free.

“Cum with me, Shika. Let me see your beautiful essence all over us.” Sai grunted, nearing his release as well. With one hand firmly planted on Shikamaru’s hip, the other went to vigorously pump his dick. Shikamaru came with a loud moan, Sai followed soon after, releasing his seed inside his friend. All movement ceased, the only sounds being the heavy breathing coming from the two men. Said pulled out and Shikamaru felt the cum seep from his ass and onto the blankets beneath him. The two looked at each other, both their eyes slowly closing. Sleep was finally taking over them, from the emotional night of heart beak, drinking and great sex, both closed their eyes, slightly snuggling against each other. Consequences can be damned till the time they woke up. Right now, everything was okay. They were at peace.

[blueluneacy]

Justifications

i was sad so i wrote this. its the cioccolata/reader n/sfw that i planned for Wrong with the Reaper that never ended up happening

warnings: not sfw, non con, knife (scalpel?) play, aphrodisiacs, drugged sex, implied kidnapping, bondage

Also on AO3

“And what is it now that you’re whining about?” Cioccolata asked, rolling his eyes as you still squirmed on the table, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You should be feeling better according to what he injected in you, and by his reaction, it seemed like he too didn’t understand your reaction. Maybe you had an allergy you didn’t know about? Who knew, you weren’t exactly given hospital grade painkillers often. 

All you knew is that your body, rather than calming down, felt like it was getting hotter, your heart rate speeding up and your pupils dilating. You squirmed in your restraints, trying to keep yourself calm enough to not disrupt your fresh stitches. He just wanted to put you to sleep so he could easily move you back to your fresh chains in the corner of the room, now fortified with brand new steel, but you were instead throwing a fit. 

“God, will you calm down? I swear, you need to stop fighting what I put into your system.” Cioccolata pointed out, turning around to finally look at you again, only to pause and raise an eyebrow. As he saw your state, the way you were shaking and your breathing quickened, he actually stepped back over to you, looking you over as he reached up and felt your cheek. 

“Hmm… This isn’t even some of the possible side effects, so why are you…” He looked over to his table grabbing one his syringes, only to…

“Well then. It seems I made a bit of a mistake. What a pain…” Cioccolata chuckled. It didn’t seem like he was bothered at all.

“What…. What the hell did you do to me?” You asked, gritting your teeth in an attempt to try and make yourself seem stronger than you were, but your voice ended up just coming out as whiny and breathy. Cioccolata just chuckled, placing it back down.

“Well, I have this medicine here-” He held up the empty syringe to you. “In case I wanted to have a different type of fun or you became a little underwhelming. What I meant was to use my other vial, which had something to knock you out. What a shame! I can’t just give you the other one for a few hours, there’s a terrible reaction. I suppose you’ll just have to suffer like that.” He chuckled a bit. You gasped, blinking a bit as you tried to take deep breaths. 

“W-Wait, you’re just going to leave me like this? Come on, I… You’re the one that fucked up, and now I just have to suffer more? Fuck you!” You yelled out, only for Cioccolata to pause for a moment, leaning over and letting a gloved hand run from your stomach all the way up to your neck. You gasped, realizing just how sensitive your skin had become, and your eyes widened.

“You really are such a fickle thing. First, you don’t want me to touch you, and then you want me to help you? You need to learn to make up your mind.” He told you, humming a bit as he waved Secco over. You felt your lip quiver a bit and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I hate you so much. I really do.” You told the both of them, wanting nothing more than to lay down on that mattress and cry until this was all over. But of course, now that you had accidentally drawn the two of them to you, they weren’t going to let you get out of this easily.

“Now don’t be like that, dear.” You hated the tone of Cioccolata’s voice, you really did, swallowing as he leaned into your neck, letting his lips barely graze over it. “If you so desperately want me to help you, I will.” You bit your lip, trying incessantly to ignore it, to try and get yourself together against whatever drug was coursing through your veins. But, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp as Cioccolata grabbed your hip, your eyes shooting open at his face as you felt him adjusting the table you were strapped down to. You swallowed and looked at him as he tilted the thing so that you were almost upright, making it much easier for him to do as he pleased. 

“Hmmm… Now, what is it that you wanted again?” He purred into your ear, reaching down to let a hand to brush against you through your underwear. You immediately bucked up without even realizing it. You gasped, wishing your hands were free so you could cover your face, to hide from what he was doing to you. It wasn’t your fault, after all, it was the fault of the stupid drug that he had injected you with, right? Right, it couldn’t be your fault.

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter what I say, you’ll do whatever you want to anyway.” You mumbled in reply, sounding a lot less confident than you usually would in a situation like this. What were you even supposed to do? There was no way you could wriggle out of your restraints, no way to do anything. 

“Hmm, and yet you still have that mouth on you. You know, maybe I should just sew those lips of yours shut. But then,” He let out a purr as he let his teeth bite into your neck, leaving you to let out a moan. You perhaps expected a scream, or maybe a cry, but that was completely out of left field. But didn’t want that to feel good, and yet it did. There was no way around how you felt, nothing but despair in it all. “How would I be able to hear something like that?”

“Shut up. God, just shut up.” You told him, panting a bit as you felt Cioccolata’s god awful hands start to run over you, trying to keep a hold of yourself the best you could. But it was so hard, with whatever was making you so needy to the point where you were almost admitting to yourself that it felt good. Key word, almost.

“And there it is again. Do you ever just try to enjoy yourself?” He hissed. You just scoffed in return, your eyes shooting up as you felt cold metal against your skin, looking down to see a scalpel just barely grazing your stomach. You swallowed and he moved it down slowly, creating a small red line. You grit your teeth, feeling the delayed sting from such a sharp instrument being used on you, until he finally got to the hem of your underwear, pausing for a moment, before easily cutting it away. You actually sighed in relief when you realized he hadn’t cut you in that motion. Heaven knows what would happen if you were cut down there.

“Ah, well, you seem to be excited, in the very least. What? Are you a masochist now too?” He asked you teasingly, looking over at Secco. You shuddered as you realized the camera was still on, the sounds of Secco panting soft in your ear but probably terribly loud in the camera.

“You forced a drug in me, and couldn’t even bother to make sure it was the right one. This is all your fault.” You told him, but Cioccolata just chuckled, using the time to start working bruises onto your neck, leaving terrible lipstick stains on you that you were sure would be a while until you could wash off. You felt your eyes widen as he let a finger run along your entrance. You gasped as squirmed for a moment, but it was a futile effort, leaving you just to whine as he pushed a finger inside of you. God, why did that feel good? You let your eyes shut as you hung your head, trying to ignore it, but it was no use. Cioccolata, for better or worse, was intuitive, and while he was slow at first, once he had realized what made your tick, he was all over it. 

“I can hear your cute little moans, dear. Come on, you don’t have to hide from me. You already know I’m going to be able to hear and see everything anyway.” He told you, watching closely as he added another finger inside of you. You gasped in return, Cioccolata just laughing at you. You were so silly, attempting to run away into your little world, to find out your own version of the truth instead of seeing what was right in front of you. Cioccolata sighed a bit, pulling his fingers from you as he began to fiddle with his belt. You blinked, pausing before realizing what he was doing, swallowing as you stared right at his cock. Well, he was tall, but that just wasn’t fair! There are plenty of nice men out there, and here Cioccolata was, hung like a fucking horse. 

“I… I am going to have to respectfully decline that.” You said. Secco and Cioccolata looked at each other, before the two of them laughing at you, Cioccolata moving to grab your hips and begin to line up with your entrance.

“You should already know you don’t have a choice in this.” He told you. You swallowed and laughed nervously, desperately looking around for something, anything, but nothing was there to grab onto, a rope to lift you out of here.

“Well, worth a shot, right? Don’t know until you try.” You tried not to sound as nervous as you were. It did not work. 

And god, when Cioccolata pushed in, all you could do was scream. Your screams were probably music to his ears, but you couldn’t help it. It stung so badly, you could nearly see blotting at the edge of your vision. And Cioccolata only held for a moment, a single moment for you to take a breath, before his nails dug into your hips, and he moved with wild abandon. You really did just feel like a piece of meat, right there and ready for this monster to do whatever he wanted to. But god, you hated how good it felt too, the way Cioccolata seemed to hit parts of you that you didn’t even know were there, making you let you a practically endless stream of moans and gasps. 

“God, what a cute little pet I seem to have gotten. You like this, don’t you? You love what I do to you, you little whore.” You shuddered at the way he growled, the way it only made your body clench down onto him even tighter. You were practically losing your mind in the feeling, but you did your best to shake your head. 

“You still have the capacity to lie? I’m impressed, to say the least. I’ll just have to fuck such stupid thoughts out of your head. Wouldn’t it be nice, to just be mindless?” He asked you, leaning in to mouth at your shoulder, unable to control his own impulses. The way he curled over you reminded you of some sort of lumbering monster, all teeth and claws, biting into you and drawing blood. You let out a whine, and you wished your hands were free so you could grab onto something, to try and get a grip on anything that was happening. A small portion of you even wanted to grab onto Cioccolata, to grip the back of his coat until it tore apart, until you felt something make sense with you. 

“C-Cioccolata, please, God, it’s too much!” You found some capacity to speak, but it really was nothing but babbling, wasn’t it? Cioccolata practically purred in delight at the way you were calling out his name, absolutely losing control of your tongue. “I can’t, please, slow down!”

“Aw, but doesn’t it feel so good? I can feel you squeezing down around me. Your body certainly knows what it wants.” He chuckled, before forcing his lips against yours. You gasped, but it only allowed Cioccolata to force his tongue into your mouth, forcing you into submission against him. You didn’t dare bite, for fear of what he might do to you in a state like this. When he finally pulled away, you were gasping, fruitlessly attempting to get a grip on yourself as you moaned.

“P-Please, Cioccolata, can’t take it! God, please!” You cried out.

“I wonder if you really think any God can hear you here.” He hummed, before reaching one of his hands up and tangling a hand through your hair, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Are you close? Does my pretty little bitch want to cum?” His voice was so low you thought you might be fading away. And against your better judgement, you just nodded pathetically. You couldn’t help it. Your body was just so, so sensitive, to the point where the slightest movement made it feel like you were going to burst. Cioccolata just smirked, pushing into you faster, god you didn’t even think that he could go faster, barking out his order.

“Then cum. Clamp down on me and make you cum right inside of you.” He told you. You gasped, trying to shake your head, to try and refuse him, but Cioccolata just gripped your hair tighter, starting to pull. “Don’t make me tell you again, pet.” His voice was so dangerous, to the point where all you could do was whimper and do your best to nod.

And of course, after a few more strokes, you let out a loud cry, your eyes rolling back as you had probably one of the most intense orgasms of your life. Maybe it was the drug, or the fear, or a mixture, but you couldn’t help but consulve as you clamped down on Cioccolata, feeling something that just felt boiling hot fill up inside of you. Something you would have to deal with later.

You gasped, the two of you riding out the feeling with each other, before you just hung your head the moment he let go. It wasn’t even the shame of all, but rather the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion you felt. You let your eyes flutter shut, shuddering as you felt some of Cioccolata’s spent drip out from inside of you and onto your thigh. Cioccolata tutted, picking your head up by the chin, but you just leaned in it. 

“You really have no stamina, do you?” He sighed, leaving you there for a moment to go to the sink, presumably to clean himself up, before coming back to you and starting to pull you down. If any time was the time to fight, it was now. No one would expect it, but well, there was a reason why. The minute your feet touched the ground, you were wobbling like a newborn deer, holding onto Cioccolata and leaning your head against him. He just sighed, scooping you up fully in his arms, leaving you to sigh in a strange relief. 

“But, at least you’re cute afterwards.” He teased a bit. You didn’t have the energy to argue, instead letting your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion overcoming you as you fell asleep in his arms. 

You were just too tired to try and justify this with yourself.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

It Was My Job to Protect You and I Failed- Prompt Fill

@celosiaa​

CWs: panic attacks, mental health issues, suicidal thoughts kind of? (Jon wishing that if someone is going to kill him that they would just get it over with), paranoia, insomnia, season 2 Jon and all his issues.

Jon and Martin are having trouble coping after the Prentiss attack.

I am still accepting bingo prompts! Although this sheet is getting full. Thinking about doing another, but no promises yet, still have a few more to go here! Just let me know which prompt and which character and if you want a drawing or a fic!  Bingo card by the wonderful @celosiaa​

It's been too long since he slept.  He knows this.  His eyes are gritty and they hurt when he blinks.  Vision starting to sway out of focus as Jon stares down at the statement on his desk.  He doesn’t have the energy to lift the paper and hold it at a better angle for his poor eyes, so it strains them more.  

It’s fine.  No one has been getting much sleep.  He isn’t special.  He isn’t different.  Tim is just as tired, and has been avoiding him since he was caught spying.  

Jon keeps trying to convince himself that it was justified suspicion.  He doesn’t want to be suspicious.  God he wants to carve this paranoid out of him.  This clawing, scratching, all-consuming fear that he isn’t safe, that someone he has known for years could have… tricked him.  Gotten his guard down.  How long was Gertrude’s murderer planning it?  

Why?

Did she know her killer?

It could have been anyone.  

It could have been anyone.  

His chest aches with the tension that has been clutching at him since… Gods he still hasn’t processed.  Gertrude shot.  In this office.  

It could have been anyone.  

He wants to trust Tim.  And Martin.  And Sasha.  

He misses them.  God he misses them.  

He misses the calm certainty that his friends won’t slit his throat the moment he lets his guard down.  Why the hell would he choose to be this way?  Tim seems to think that he chose to be this suspicious.  He didn’t.  

He didn’t.  

He would swear he didn’t.  

He wants to believe his friends.  He wants to believe that he will be okay and safe and that nothing else terrible can happen to him ever again.  He has had a lifetime of terrible things already.  But everyone that loved him is dead or left or could murder him.  If he… just… let himself sleep.  He wants to sleep he wants a cup of tea.  But he can’t trust the tea or the kindness or sleep.  

Every time he closes his eyes he feels the squirming on his skin, the burrowing into holes that are hardly healed over.  He hears footsteps and singing and the creaking of floorboards, the sharp sounds of a knife the click of a gun being cocked.  

Every time he lays down, he jolts himself awake as soon as his heartrate starts to slow.  The few times he passed out of exhaustion or pain he wakes up seconds later sweating bullets swallowing a scream as he is sure… positive that someone is waiting for him.  Waiting to catch him unawares.  

So waits outside in the cold, injuries pulling with the dropping temperatures, joints stiff, shivering with cold and fear and sleep deprivation, watching the people he should trust, betraying their trust in him like the miserable excuse for a wretched man he is.  

He is drifting closer to his desk when there is a tentative voice at his door.  No knocking.  There hasn’t been knocking in months.  Still his head snaps up.  Hurting the neck that has already put up with enough shit keeping him upright without rest in months… since… since Her.  

“Jon?  I made you some tea?”  Everything Martin says sounds unsure now.  A question.  From fear?  From fear of Jon?  Fear for Jon?  A trick to get Jon to relax?  

Jon grunts.  Loud enough to be heard through his door.  Nice and noncommittal.  If Martin is planning to kill him it would be stupid to do during work hours if no one else is in on it.  If the others are in on it, then it doesn’t matter, he is practically dead already.  He does want the tea, but that would be an easy way to kill him, wouldn’t it?  

“Jon, I’m coming in.”  

Jon can see him shaking even through smearing vision.  “Good lord!  Martin are you alright?”  He surprises himself with concern, and the lack of fear that this is a trick.  

“Fine.  I’m fine.  Here, take your tea, I’ll.. I’m going to go back to my desk and drink mine, yeah?  I’m alright.”  

His hands are shaking enough that he is in danger of the tea splashing.  

Jon finds himself on his feet.  Vision blacking out for a moment.  Damn his exhaustion.  

Martin’s hands are warm, and that thought threatens to black out his vision again, simply out of… Jon doesn’t know.  Shock?  

Is it gay to almost pass out when you brush the hand of your shaking coworker when you are sleep deprived and paranoid?  

Jon banishes the thought with a slight shake of his head, which nearly causes him to black out again.  He carefully takes the mug from Martin’s hands.  He smells bergamot.  He doesn’t want to let go of Martin.  The heat of hand touching hand sends a shudder through him.  When was the last time he touched another person?  Was it… in the tunnels being more or less carried?  Was it that single night of camaraderie through trauma before the gnawing terror set in.  Terror of his …friends?  Not of the squirming ordeal that they just survived.  

His first wrong move had been there.  Stopping to interrogate instead of resting.  He shouldn’t have pushed.  Surly even someone with the best intentions towards him must have wished death on him for that.  

He nudges Martin towards a chair.  Mechanically he drapes his battered coat around Martin.  

It’s comically small on him, and worn to the point it probably isn’t doing anything against the damp chill of the basement.  Colder still with the knowledge that the walls are thin and anything could lurk behind.  

Martin looks at him blankly.  Jon thinks he might have run out of mental script.  Jon… knows that feeling.  This is hardly the sort of conversation you plan for or expect.  Not something you can rehearse in the shower… or could before you became too afraid to speak in the shower for fear that the extra level of noise would lead to someone leaping out at you with a butcher’s knife and you wouldn’t even know it was coming… and honestly would that be so bad?  At least it would be fast and he would at least know who it was and he could die trusting whoever wasn’t the person knifing him to death in the shower.  

Focus, Jonathan.  

“Are…. Are you alright?”  Jon, fumbles for his own seat before his legs can give out.  Pain and exhaustion.  Probably not the best for if he needs to run from something…. But not much he can actually do about it if he can’t sleep ...not to mention his ruined leg.  

Martin, to Jon’s horror, sniffles.  A choked half sob half laugh.  “Me?  Jon, you almost passed out three times just now.”

“You’re shaking.”  Jon protests weakly.  

“Yeah, and so are you.”  

Jon looks at him.  Studies him.  Looks for some reason to be afraid.  But he doesn’t have the energy.  He slumps.  Skin pulling at his many… many scabs.  “When’s the last time you slept?”  

Another half sob.  “Probably the last time you did.”  

Jon can’t remember the last time he slept.  Probably not even before Prentiss, aside from one night with painkillers before he realized they just left him open to an attack.  But he can’t rightly call that nauseous hazy not-sleep Sleep.  Does Martin know just how long ago that was?  Or is he assuming that Jon slept well before that?  Or has Martin really just not slept in that long?  Jon wishes he could remember… but he hardly payed Martin mind before then… except for criticizing him and you don’t tend to look that closely at people you are trying to dislike.  

“Do…. You want to talk about it?”  Jon asks cautiously.  Does he care?  Is this a tactic to catch Martin in a lie, or his he concerned?  Jon can’t even tell.  

Christ Martin looks soft.  Warmer and safer than his hard and empty bed.  

Where did that thought come from???

“What?  Just another way to interrogate me?  Christ Jon I just want to have a breakdown in peace, and then go back to pretending this isn’t happening, alright?”  Edged with tear, and the unfamiliar bitter bite of anger that he expects from Tim.  

It hurts.  And Jon bites back a bitter remark, or a sob, or a scream.  He doesn’t really know.  “I… I’m worried about you?”

“Are you, or are you just worried about what I could do to you?”

It doesn’t sound like a threat?  He doesn’t think.  Just… sounds tired.  As tired as Jon feels.  

“Christ… Martin… I.  Do you think I want to be like this?  I can’t FUCKING SLEEP.  I haven’t slept I keep… thinking I hear someone in my flat.  I keep thinking that I’m going to turn around and she will be there or that I’ll be nose to nose with a gun or… or a knife or I don’t know a flamethrower.  I can’t close my eyes.  I can’t eat anything that isn’t packaged.  I … how do I know it hasn’t been tampered with?  That I… shit.  I just…. I am so tired and I just want it… to just do it already.  Just get it over with so I can stop worrying and wondering and fuck I’d be dead but it’s better than waiting and worrying and waking up without even sleeping.  “I should… I should have protected you… It was my fault you even saw Prentiss, I shouldn’t have pushed and I can’t stop pushing and I don’t want to be like this.  I should have protected you.  I can’t stop picking and prodding and I can’t even trust that the only people who don’t hate me aren’t just pretending.  I failed you all and Christ it should have been me trapped by Her and it should have been Sasha who got this job but maybe it should be me so it doesn’t get her killed too….”  He can’t raise his voice.  It’s just a panicked whisper.  Can’t even admit to himself these things.  Can’t believe he’s said it to Martin, but it’s out of his mouth in a tangled jumble before he can even think.  He’s shaking harder now.  He can’t look at Martin.  Doesn’t want to know what he is going to say.  

But Martin doesn’t get the chance to say anything because Tim barges in.  Loudly.  Unannounced.  “JON I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ARE TERRORSING MARTIN AGAIN I SWEAR!”

Tim is still talking but all he can hear is his heartbeat in his throat and a high pitched tone in his ears.  The wheeze of his shitty lungs trying to pull in air but just tightening instead.  Asthma, panic?  It doesn’t matter, his vision is going dark again, and he catches a glimpse of Martin similarly shocked and wheezing (although since Martin doesn’t have asthma it’s probably just a panic attack).  

Tim’s holding his inhaler.  Tim is telling him to use it.  To take a breath and hold.  And once he has, Tim is talking them both down.  With gentle movements and calming words.  And Jon doesn’t know what to think.  Doesn’t know if he can trust this gentleness after weeks of tension.  Months of tension.   And that nearly sends him spiraling again before Tim has a hand on his chest and his hand on Tim’s chest and they are breathing together.  

There is deafening silence once everyone stops wheezing.  “Okay what the hell was that about?” Tim demands after a long moment.  

“Heh, you know... Two coworkers having simultaneous breakdowns...” Martin adds weakly.  

“What?  Five feet apart because you’re not not gay?”  Tim scowls at Jon like he doesn’t believe what Martin said.  Like Martin is covering for Jon or something.   

“Tim,” Martin admonishes.  

Jon isn’t sure he can get words out.   He’s still breathless and even an aborted panic attack took any energy he had in his empty reserves.     

Jon finds his vision smearing with tears and exhaustion.  He doesn’t have it in him to swipe at them.  “If either of you are planning to kill me, please do it now.  I have a pair of scissors.  Just... get it over with.  And if not, I’d rather like to lay down.”  His voice sounds far away.  

Tim rounds in him properly.  

Jon doesn’t want to see it.  If he’s going to die now he doesn’t want to see it.  

“Please.   I’m.  I’m so tired.”  Eyes closed.  Voice wobbling.  He’s embarrassed, but he’s too exhausted to care.  

“Shit Jon.  I don’t want to hurt you.  But you did fuck me over.”  

Jon’s in a ball on his seat, he’s properly sobbing now.  Silently.   Arms over his head waiting for an attack.  

The longer he waits for one.  The more he shakes.   He can’t do this any longer.  

His scrawny, underfed arms are shaking with exertion.  His breathing is... likely on a fast track to another panic attack.  

Someone gently grasps his quaking wrists.  Holding them steady.  He opens one bloodshot eye a crack.  

“Let’s.  Let’s get out of here, alright?  We... we should probably talk about.  A lot of things.  Take turns keeping watch, I think we all could use some sleep.”  

It’s Tim. Tim has his wrists.   So gently.   And Tim guides him up and towards Martin.   Who is also shaking and red-eyed.  

Jon stumbles into him with a breathless sound and a frankly embarrassing whine.  His legs won’t hold him up anymore, and he is ends up in Martin’s lap.  And the two of them quietly shake together until Tim rounds up them and their stuff and herds them out of the Institute.  

Jon doesn’t remember getting to his flat, but Tim and Martin are there, and he would panic about that, but he thinks he let them in.  He thinks he remembers a conversation.  Where Martin is afraid to go home, and Tim doesn’t want Jon at his but wants to keep an eye on them both, and Jon can’t argue that he needs something, and he… he doesn’t know.  Nothing has changed.  But.  Maybe he can trust… just for tonight.  And maybe if he can do that.  Maybe they can all talk in the morning.  And maybe he can trust for a little longer.  And maybe if he’s lucky, (and if Tim satisfies his vindictive nature by snooping around his flat in retaliation) maybe Tim and Martin can trust him again too.